Page 46 of Here for a Good Time

“You’re right.” I school my features into the most no-nonsense expression I can manage. “I need to start gathering material for a romance novel, so you’re going to have to be serious about this.”

“Okay, then tell me. How do you like to be kissed?”

My mouth opens but no sound comes out. A burning knot that had been too tangled for too long inside of me begins to unsnarl, a knot that had been braiding hope and desire and fear. “How about I show you instead?” I say.

I plant my lips on top of his responding smirk, and even though bursts of Holy shit, you’re kissing Zwe spark through my brain, they quickly settle, turning into Holy shit, why haven’t you been kissing Zwe this whole time?

Because I now know how I like to be kissed: like I am and always will be more than enough, like he would die of hunger if he’d had to go one more second without kissing me, like if it were up to him, kissing me would be all he ever did.

Because that’s exactly how he’s kissing me, tongues and lips searching for more, more, more, making up for lost time even though we know we’ve got the rest of our lives.

My spine arches up, his curves down, the heat between our bodies captured in a closed-loop circuit.

In the back of my mind, I’m faintly cognizant that the context of all of this—the ashes around us and traces of smoke still lingering in the air, the roaring wind, in the far distance, the ocean waves bellowing as they crash again and again into the shore—while dramatic, isn’t exactly the most romantic of settings.

Not to mention, Leila and her cousins are still here.

But also, I don’t care. We’ve waited so long for this that, frankly, I’d keep doing this even if we were front and center onstage in a packed circus tent.

It’s that relief of coming home after a long, long journey, every muscle in my body relaxing, settling back into the only place in this world I’ve ever truly belonged.

“I love you,” I say at last when we come up for air.

“I love you so fucking much.” His voice is wet and still a bit shaky. “So, so much you have no idea.”

And for several delicious moments, it’s just us, the way I always want it to be.

Him bracing my upper body, one of my hands tangled in his hair, the other cupping his face.

Both of us grinning like we’re kids who’ve just agreed to keep the best secret of our lives to ourselves—which, I suppose in some ways, this is.

Or at least, that’s how love feels, right?

You’re giddy with glee because you’re convinced you’re the first people in the history of humankind to feel this way, to the point where you might positively burst.

A loud, loaded clearing of the throat pops our cocoon of obliviousness.

“Don’t get me wrong, we are very happy for you—” Leila makes a circular motion with both hands, and all of her cousins nod enthusiastically.

“You two are so cute!” Faith says.

“But, well, we’ve been talking and…” Leila looks at the women, who sheepishly drop their gazes to the ground.

“I’ve asked them to leave. Obviously you’re allowed to do whatever you decide to do, but I wasn’t lying when I told you earlier that all of this was my idea.

Please, please let my cousins leave.” Her eyes are shining, and it’s not just water that’s running down her face.

I turn to Zwe, whose shoulders move with an imperceptible shrug. “What do you think?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “On the one hand, we nearly died.” A dry laugh escapes out of me as the absurdity of that sentence hits. “But they did come back. They were willing to risk their lives to save us. Even if they were the ones who tied us up in the first place.”

“Yeah, we’re really sorry about that,” Nita says, grimacing.

“But like I said, we were terrified you’d escape and tell the police about us and describe my face, and—” She stops herself, takes a deep breath, shakes her head.

“But that’s no excuse. We’re sorry. You have to believe us, hurting people was never part of the original plan. We’re so sorry.”

The thing is, I’m less concerned about them hurting me.

When I look down at Zwe’s bloody knuckles, a new fit of anger flares through me.

I want to say that them coming back to save us negates their initial actions, but then I’m transported back to that horrible moment where we couldn’t undo Zwe’s rope and I was silently begging the universe to let me switch places with him.

It feels like I’m trying to shove forgiveness through a too-narrow doorway—even if I wanted to, it just doesn’t fit.

They hurt the person I loved more than anything in the world.

“What about you?” I ask Zwe. “What do you think?”

He looks at me, at them, then back at me. “I don’t think I could forgive anyone who tried to hurt you,” he tells me.

“Me neither.” It’s anger that’s only proportionate to the amount of love that I feel for Zwe. The kind of anger that, if I let it take root, would make me want to hurt them . Make me want to… get revenge. “They did it for love,” I say quietly.

“What?” Zwe asks, confused, but I’m looking directly at Leila.

She nods slowly. “They hurt my family,” she says, just as softly, like we’re taking first steps onto ice that we have no clue is or isn’t strong enough to hold the weight of our collective anger and regret.

Because I’m sorry, too. She might’ve taken it one step too far, but she made some good points earlier about how we weren’t—or specifically, I wasn’t—much different from any of the other rich, entitled guests who came here.

I saw those expansion plans earlier and my first thought was, Hey, maybe there’ll be even more for us to do next year and we can make this an annual trip.

When she’d lied that her family had chosen to relocate up to the mountains, I had simply accepted it, even though Zwe and I both have parents who couldn’t feasibly live in an apartment building without an elevator or in a house with steep stairs.

The shame is enough to make me want to throw up.

“We could let everyone else go and turn you in,” I tell her. To her credit, she never breaks eye contact, returning my gaze with the solemnity of someone who keeps their word. I know for a fact that she’s not going to try to escape, and it would be justice served.

I turn to her cousins, all of whom are teary-eyed, and whom I can tell are holding themselves back from grabbing Leila and making a run for it. “But what would be the point?” I say. “You told us that you were the sole breadwinner for your parents—were you lying about that?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“And knowing your cousins, I’m guessing the second we take you away, they’re going to start hatching a plan to break you out of jail.” I can’t hold back a smirk as I shoot a questioning look at them.

They’re all giving me the same conspiratorial smile. “If it helps,” Garima says, “we will neither confirm nor deny it in your presence so that you can make the case for plausible deniability later down the line.”

That makes me laugh. “The thing is—” I turn back to Leila.

“I have spent the last forty-eight hours doing everything in my power to keep the person that I love most in the world safe.” At this, Zwe gives my arm a squeeze.

“I don’t know what I’d do if someone kicked my parents out of their home, but I don’t think it would be anything ‘nice’ or even ‘sensible.’ You guys saved me, and you saved Zwe, and you made sure that nobody was hurt.

And at the end of the day, all that was harmed was—” I shrug as I survey the wet, charred mess around us.

“A bunch of buildings. Well, that, and a bunch of rich people’s wallets.

” Everyone chuckles at that, including Zwe.

“I would understand if you wanted me to pay for what I did to you guys,” Leila says.

I nod. “I know. But I think risking being burned alive to come back and save us wiped the slate clean. We’re good.” Remembering, I swivel around to Zwe. “Unless you object?”

“I just wanted you safe,” he says.

“And I just wanted you safe.”

“Sooo… what now?” Andrea asks.

I grunt as I try to sit up. Zwe helps me to my feet before getting up himself. There’s a moment where he has to steady himself by grabbing the chair, but ultimately we’re both standing, even if we’re slightly wobbly and holding on to each other for balance.

“Now we do what Leila said,” I say. “The four of you still escape the way you were planning to. Or if the storm has gotten too bad to go out to sea, then you go join your family and hide out there for a bit. Do you think you’ll be able to do that? In the rain?”

They assess the weather situation. “It’ll be difficult, but manageable,” Nita says as she peers over toward the start of the hiking trails. “And there’s four of us, so together, we’ll be okay.”

“Perfect,” I nod. “You should get going soon, though, in case anyone who was on the beach sees that the fire is out and comes up here to check what’s happening.

The three of us will stay here until the rain lets up.

Afterward, we’ll—” I pause, unsure where we actually go from here.

“Join the others?” I look at Leila. “Where are they? What did you guys do with Antonio after you recaptured him?”

“We brought him back to join the rest of the staff,” Leila says.

She nods down in the direction of the sand.

“They’re all on the beach. We left them there with their hands tied.

I’m sure they’ve freed each other by now, but there’s no way they’d have come running up here with the fire.

They’re all waiting for help to come, which should arrive by sunrise, if not earlier.

All the hotel alarms have been tripped by this point. ”

“Okay, then, let’s go down and join them.”

“What will we say?” Leila asks. She fidgets, and I realize she’s still a tiny bit concerned that we might expose her.

“That they had left us unconscious and locked in a room before setting the fire. Thankfully we woke up and managed to escape right as the sprinklers went off. Oh—” I snap my fingers. “We can tell Antonio we escaped thanks to his handcuff trick. He’ll get a kick out of that.”

Zwe returns my grin. “He won’t stop talking about that for at least a year, probably more.”

“So we have a plan?” I ask, and everyone nods.

The women take turns hugging Leila. “I’ll see you all soon,” she reassures each of them.

As they’re leaving, Nita stops and turns to me.

“Thank you,” she says to me and Zwe with a grateful smile. “For protecting Leila. For protecting all of us. You might be rich, but you’re not an asshole.”

“We owe you one. Anytime you need to burn down a resort, the Chen girls will be on call,” Faith says, throwing in a small salute.

“Now there’s a card I never thought I’d have in my back pocket,” I laugh. “But I’ll take it. Now go. Be safe.”