Page 17

Chapter Sixteen

T he next morning, William and I were on our way to the nearest town to find a clothing store. As we recapped yesterday’s events, we zoomed by a vast expanse of green hills and rows of vineyards. He had an amazing day—and night—with Brandon, and I told him about my evening with Andrew.

“I can’t wrap my head around why Brandon told you he was scouting for an archaeologist and his wife,” I said.

“Because I’m charming and can make people spill their secrets.” William snuck a glance at me and then returned his focus to the road. His right hand rested on the steering wheel and his left propped on a door. Brandon must have done a number on him. William was beyond relaxed and cheerier than at any time I have seen him after a successful date.

“What else did he say?”

William shrugged one shoulder. “We talked about this and that, then about my practice, then about his job at the Ashmolean Museum.” He grinned at me. “You’d really like him.”

“What does he do again?”

“He’s a curator. Anyway, I told Brandon I was on a spiritual vacation. Alone. Searching for new inspiration for my work, and when I asked him if he was on vacation too, he just blurted it out. Then, he quickly said ‘ha-ha just kidding.’ I feel like something was bothering him. You know how you can tell that people do their job, but they don’t enjoy their job?”

It was my turn to shrug. I loved my job; quitting it was a hard decision.

“Or maybe he knew who you were but was bad at lying so he was nervous,” I said.

“Nah, I think it was something else,” William said. “But those are boring things that we already talked about. Explain to me again why you don’t want to sleep with Dr. Mucho Grande?”

I chuckled at the new nickname, then sighed. “Because I like him.”

And that was a huge problem. This idea of an affair with Andrew teetered dangerously on the edge of a massive heartbreak. My heartbreak. And I wasn’t a masochist. I wasn’t about to subject myself to more misery. Last night I decided I was playing with fire, and it was best to wait out the next couple of days and not cross any lines with Andrew. And what also bugged me was that he didn’t kiss me or invite himself to my room. Was he playing a game of hard-to-get, or was he not interested and I’d totally misread the energy between us? My hand fidgeted with the bracelet, running it around my wrist, my fingers pressing on the stones.

“Even more confused now. It’s good to like someone you want to sleep with. It makes sex so much better.”

“I like to keep sex separate from emotions. I don’t have sex with anybody for whom I could develop feelings. It’s… like…” I struggled to explain my own stupidity. “Once you cross that line, it sort of seals the deal.”

“What deal?” William squinted at me, the car drifting to the left. The truck that was going around us honked, and William swerved to the right.

“Watch the road, please.” I pointed ahead as we approached an intersection. “If it’s more than lust, the sex is no longer just physical; it’s something special. And I don’t do special. Special hurts.”

We stopped at the traffic light and idled in silence for some time—a rare moment for us. William never usually stayed quiet about anything, especially on the subject of sex or relationships. I tapped my index finger on the top three stones on the bracelet—left, middle, right, left, middle, right, left.

“If you keep playing with the bracelet”—William jerked his head my way—“you’ll unlock it by accident, and poof! Off we go back home.”

My finger froze. I wasn’t ready to part with Andrew, sex or no sex. I enjoyed his company. Too much.

“Look, the universe is telling you to date this perfect male specimen,” he said, pressing the gas and jolting the car forward.

I yanked hair out of my mouth and readjusted my sunglasses. “How exactly is the universe telling me this?”

“By cuffing you to him with the bracelet. So please have fun right now and then don’t stop once we get back home. Find a way to continue seeing him.”

I wanted to remind William that the prospect of long-distance ended his relationship with Rai. But he was finally back to his happy self; there wasn’t a need to ruin his mood.

I laughed dryly. “It wouldn’t work out. We come from different backgrounds. Andrew is Harrods, and I’m Goodwill.” I wished we weren’t. I wished I was part of his upbringing and not mine.

“It won’t work out because you don’t even want to try,” he said tensely.

Whoa. What’s with the attitude?

He sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. But you’re so hung up on what that idiot Greg told you over a decade ago that it makes you stupid. Greg’s a loser. And even after all these years you’re still letting him have control over you. You exceeded him in everything, and he had to find a way to hurt you.” William turned the steering wheel and soon parked on a street with a small grocery store, a few restaurants, and several shops painted with colorful murals. There was hardly a soul in sight. “I recently internet stalked him. Guess where he works?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “He has a business management degree. So, he must be a CEO of some sort?”

William made an awful game buzzer sound. “Wrong. He’s a manager at a car dealership.”

I gawked at him. “He owns a dealership?”

“For a clever woman, sometimes you surprise me.” He shut the engine off and turned in his seat. “He’s a fraternity loser who sells cars. The only reason that dipshit graduated from UGA was that his daddy stuffed money into the university. He cheated his way through college. He said what he said because you were smarter than him, and he didn’t know how else to put you down.”

There was nothing wrong with Greg’s job, and I shouldn’t be gleeful. I didn’t make it in my life either. Let’s not forget my metric-ton of debt. I had no right to be gratified by someone’s failure to reach their life goals.

“Don’t you feel better now?” William asked.

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes.

William took my hand and brought it to his chest. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I want you to be stupidly in love. You radiate when you’re in love. I don’t think there’s an esthetician who could make skin glow like yours right now. Don’t you want that soul-connecting feeling that will grow stronger each day?”

He sounded like a commercial. Yes, the feelings Andrew stirred inside me were amazing, but the pain of our inevitable ending would be much worse.

“I’m not in love. Stop saying it.” I gave William a stern stare. My cheeks turned hot. “I just like Andrew.”

“Oh, my god. You’re so digging Dr. Jones,” he said, with a huge grin. “Look at yourself. You’re blushing.” He cackled.

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him. “Reality check. He has a life in Cambridge, and I have mine in Atlanta.” I didn’t mean to say it in a harsh tone, but it came out that way. I was getting defensive. About what? Not sure, but tears prickled my eyes. “This was doomed from the start. So don’t rent a tux just yet.”

William stopped laughing, took his sunglasses off, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yes. You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “He has a fabulous, rich life in Cambridge, and you live in Atlanta with me.”

I snorted sardonically. “I appreciate you pointing out that he has a fabulous life, and I just exist .”

“Whatever.” It was William’s turn to roll his eyes. “Fine. Do whatever you want. I’m a selfish person anyway, and I need you to be near me, therefore I wouldn’t let you go to live in some other country where people talk with a gorgeous accent and mingle with royalty.”

“I’m glad you made it clear it’s all about you.” I smiled, unbuckling and throwing my seatbelt off.

“It’s always about me.” He winked.

I knew he was joking. When it came to me, William never made it about him. He was my rock and my best friend. I pulled on the door handle, ready to exit the car, but William placed his hand on my arm.

“Adriana, seriously, for once, don’t think about what the future holds for you. Have fun. Have a fling with Dr. Ripped Spartan.”

“You haven’t seen him naked. How do you know he’s ripped?” I teased.

William tapped his temple. “Laser vision.”

I haven’t seen Andrew naked either, but I’ve been pressed against him enough times to know that whatever was going on under his clothes was drool-worthy. Just thinking about Andrew’s lips brushing my cheek made my body shiver and my nipples harden. Exactly . If a simple touch brought an explosive reaction, what would happen if he kissed me?

* * *

The store had a mix of traditional and everyday clothes in addition to cheap T-shirts meant for tourists.

“Get this one.” William pressed a ruffled white blouse to my chest. “It’s sexy.”

“We aren’t going to a Cumbia dance. I need something practical for hiking.” I moved to the rack of shorts. The brown Fedora I’d nabbed the moment we stepped into this establishment slid lower over my eyes. I’d already selected a few shirts so all that was left to find was a couple of pairs of shorts, socks, and hiking boots.

“How about this one then?” He lifted a neon green crop top with long sleeves.

I threw two pairs of shorts over my arm and glanced at him. “Only if I want a satellite to spot me easily from space.”

William tailed me to the shoe rack, and before I could even consider any of the boots, like a true shoe savant, he quickly picked a pair—in my size—and handed them to me.

“Ohhh-kay. I’m going to try these on.” I strolled into a small changing room but before pulling a curtain closed, I said, “Could you please call the Costa Rica resort and ask them to remove our stuff from the room and store it in a secured holding area?”

William lifted his arm in a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

I slid my dress off and stepped into the brown shorts. They fitted me like a glove and were the right length, long enough not to be too sexy but also not to make me look like a middle-aged, tired, suburban mom. I checked my butt in the mirror. Not bad.

What was the definition of a fling, anyway? I had a boyfriend in college for three years until he destroyed my belief in true love and, with it, my self-esteem. A few years later, I met a guy from Seattle, who flew to Atlanta for work several times a year. For four years, Steve was my get-it-out-of-my-system guy. We didn’t just have sex; we went to dinners, movies, and parks. I never invited him to my place, and I never spent an entire night in his hotel room. I was afraid that if I woke up next to him in the morning, it might change our friendship with benefits or whatever it was. What we had was a rule-based relationship between two consenting adults who liked each other but not enough to inspire an entire butterfly conservatory inside their bodies. And that was why it worked for me.

A fling with Andrew was something I could handle. I’d developed enough strength to allow my heart to feel something again while being able to pull on the emergency shut-off at any moment. I convinced myself that when Andrew’s and my lives went separate ways, I wouldn’t care.

I tugged a shirt over my head and tried on the next pair of shorts. They were identical to the first but with fewer pockets. Shopping completed.

“I’m done.” I pushed the curtain out of the way and stepped out fully dressed in my new outfit: a pale brown button-up shirt with short sleeves, marsh green ponte pocket shorts, and hiking boots—a practical outfit for a stroll in a jungle.

“You didn’t even let me see how the other things looked on you.” William frowned.

“No time.” I passed by him and headed toward the front of the store. William collected all the things he’d picked for himself. “These are comfortable, and that’s all that matters.”

“What if other shorts made your butt sexier?” William nodded, a gleam of malevolence in his eyes. “You know I’d tell you.”

“I have no doubt you would.”

At the register, we handed our items and the tags for everything I was already wearing to a doe-eyed beautiful woman.

“This too, please.” I pointed at the hat.

William bent to my ear and whispered, “You just need a leg gun holster and a pistol, and you’d be Lara Croft.”

* * *

Sitting near our piled bags, Andrew waited for us in the lobby, his eyes narrowed in concentration on the phone in his hand. I hid the hat behind my back and sauntered toward him, a huge grin plastered on my face. He tore his gaze from the screen, then did a double take. He gave me a once over, dragging his gaze over my legs, and then his jaw tightened, and the wrinkle between his brows drew deeper. Disapproval or revolt at how I looked? I hesitated, uncertain of his reaction. But then the tension in his face lessened and a reluctant smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

He stood, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re wearing shorts for a trek in the jungle.”

“First my butt and now you don’t like my legs?” I teased him.

“Christ, your legs are more than fine.” He pocketed his iPhone. “What’s going to bite them is not.”

My insides melted and pooled between my thighs at the idea of Andrew’s teeth sinking into my skin.

“It’s too hot to wear pants, and we bought bug spray,” I said. Andrew closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shook his head again. I stepped to him. “I got you a gift.”

His lips curled, and light danced in his eyes. “Should I worry?”

I plopped the hat on his head. It landed crooked, giving him a rakish air.

“Voila,” I said, beaming at him like an idiot.

Andrew pushed the hat up off his eyebrows with his index finger. For a split second, our gazes collided, and there was longing in his bright eyes. Everything inside me fluttered.

“Now you’re the real Indiana Jones.”

“Only much sexier, right?” Andrew said with a quizzical smile.

He had no idea.

I nodded.

I was so fucked.