Page 14 of One Week in Paradise
Things are different between Cash and me now – which is fair, I suppose. The dynamics of our relationship with one another have been flipped over the last few days, and I’m not sure either of us knows how to proceed.
He keeps up the loving boyfriend act when we’re in front of the others, but as soon as we’re alone, it’s like he can’t get away from me quick enough.
In a weird way, we’re kind of right back to where we started.
Which wouldn’t be a problem if my feelings for him could go back to right where they started.
I’m sunbathing on the terrace of our suite after our hike and our day at the waterfall. Cash is nowhere to be seen. He came back to the suite with me but only stayed long enough to change his clothes. That was about an hour ago, and he’s still not returned.
My phone vibrates on the small table next to me, and I jump. I hadn’t realised it had reconnected to the WiFi.
597 notifications
I sit upright, my brows shooting up. Anxiety hits me like a wave as I tap on the app. It’s been months since I’ve had a response like this on Instagram, and almost every single notification is for the post I’d shared earlier.
Most of the comments are positive.
@helena_yung21 where is that dress from!! it’s gorgeous!!
@ashley.doe ___ omg Jamaica??? so jealous
@queengracieeee so happy to see you back on my feed again
@curlsgirlscurls hair looks stunning girl! drop the routine
My heart swells as I scroll through them. For a moment, I wonder why I ever was so nervous about posting again. My audience is lovely and supportive and—
@gail23456862 lol, she’s at a couples resort but where’s her man????
@burner_420 has she stolen another one?
I quickly delete their comments and block both accounts, hoping that not too many people have seen them. They’re just trolls , I remind myself as I scan through the rest of the comments to see if anything else jumps out at me. Just stupid, sad little trolls .
I try to focus on all the positive feedback I’m receiving. My DMs are filled with young women asking me about what products I’m using in my hair or where I got my dress from. There’s even a brand or two in there asking for my details to send me products to try.
As I respond to the comments and questions filling up my DMs, my anxiety begins to fade away. Not all of it, but I immediately begin to feel lighter.
I’m back in my element.
This is what I do, and I’m good at it.
Influencers can get a bad rep sometimes, but I truly love what I do. Sometimes it feels like I’ve got a little community of sisters and cousins in my pocket, and I love sharing the things that bring me joy and make my life that little bit easier with them.
Once I’ve finished responding to everything, I put my phone down and lean back into my lounger. The sun is beating down on me, and in the distance, I can hear the waves crashing against the shore at the nearby beach.
I close my eyes and smile.
For the first time in months, I feel at peace.
That feeling of peace doesn’t last long.
‘Bailey? Are you sure you want to do this?’
I grit my teeth and then turn to face Cash. He’s standing in front of me, looking stupidly attractive in a patterned silk button-down with a very low neckline. He holds his arms out and gives me a weak smile.
‘It’s not too late to turn back.’
But it is.
I sigh and take a step forwards, letting him loop one arm around my waist. His hand rests on my lower back, and I suddenly regret my decision to wear an open-back dress this evening. He holds out his other arm and wiggles his fingers at me.
Up until ten minutes ago, I’d forgotten that I’d signed us up for a couples dance class this evening. It’s not until Penelope comes knocking on our suite door shortly after dinner to come and collect us that I remember what I’ve done.
‘Come on,’ Cash says, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ‘I won’t bite.’
But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I think I want him to.
And I think that’s what’s bothering me the most.
I don’t want to be attracted to Cash. I don’t want to look into his eyes and have my breathing stutter or my heartbeat quicken when I feel his hand rub up against my bare skin.
I want things to go back to normal. Back when Cash hated and ignored me, and I was immune to his ridiculous good looks.
But after everything that’s happened between us so far on this trip, I don’t think that’s possible. Cash knows that I’m attracted to him, and he’s lording it over me.
I scowl as he reaches for my hand and entwines our fingers together. I hate that I’ve become just like every other girl in his life, throwing myself at him and feeding into his ego.
‘Excellent form, you two!’ our dance instructor, Claudia, tells us as she hurries around the veranda to help some of the other couples there. I spot Meera and Sara giggling together in a corner, and I throw them a wave.
Cash grins. ‘I’m not used to you being this tall.’
That gets a snort out of me. I’m wearing a pair of heels, but I’m still several inches shorter than him. If I really wanted to, I could probably tuck my head under his chin.
‘Now, feel the rhythm ,’ Claudia yells. She shuffles to the front of the veranda and begins stepping from side to side to the beat of the slow reggae song blasting from the speakers. ‘Like this. Left. Right. Left. Right. Move your hips. Move together as one.’
Cash pulls me in so I’m flush against his chest, and he begins to mimic Claudia’s movements. I’m happy to let him lead. I’m an awful dancer. And anyway, I’m secretly enjoying the feel of his muscles tensing and flexing underneath me as he shimmies from side to side.
Unlike me, he’s a surprisingly good dancer. His hips move with a fluidity I never would have expected from him, and my thoughts immediately turn sensual.
A few strands of his hair fall loose from the messy bun he’s pulled it into this evening. I lean into the urge I’ve been having since that meeting at the café. I reach up and ghost my fingers through his hair.
He inhales sharply but doesn’t jerk away.
‘It’s so soft,’ I marvel as I twist a strand around my finger. ‘And so healthy. I’m impressed.’
Cash grins at me. ‘Well, it should be. I’m just doing what you told me to.’
‘Me?’ I frown, trying to scour my memories for any hair recommendations I’ve ever given him. I come up blank.
‘Not directly,’ he admits. ‘You posted something on Instagram a while back about this product you said would be good for people with my hair type.’ He shrugs casually. ‘I gave it a go, and it worked.’
A feeling of warmth cascades through my body, and for a moment, I’m speechless.
‘You followed one of my recommendations?’ I manage to choke out.
‘Of course,’ Cash says with another shrug like I’m the weird one for being surprised. ‘You know what you’re talking about, obviously. Why wouldn’t I give it a try?’
Because, aside from Amber, nobody else in my life listens to me like that. Dad thinks my choice of career is a joke. Mum follows me on Instagram, but only out of sympathy and she’s never bought any of the products I’ve recommended.
And Dane? Dane doesn’t really ask any questions outside of messaging me to ask if I have any discount codes on brands he likes.
‘Thank you,’ I mumble. I’m struck by just how much I mean it. ‘You know, I didn’t even realise that you follow me until a few days ago.’
‘I’ve been following you for a while.’
‘You should’ve said something.’
‘Maybe I just like cheering you on from a distance.’
I shake my head and snort. ‘I don’t understand you, Cash.’
Claudia shouts out some more instructions, and he dips me slightly, his eyes on the long stretch of skin on my neck as he moves.
‘What’s not to understand?’
‘One minute you hate me, the next—’
His eyes turn serious. ‘Stop saying that. Why do you think I hate you?’
‘Because you do,’ I insist. ‘I’m not stupid. I can tell.’
He laughs, but there’s no humour in it. ‘I don’t hate you, Bailey. I can promise you that.’
‘I don’t hate you either.’
‘That’s good to know.’
The song blasting through the speakers changes suddenly to something more up-tempo, and Cash spins me around.
‘I didn’t peg you as a dancer,’ I say. ‘Is this what you and Dane get up to in the club?’
‘Dane has two left feet,’ Cash chuckles. ‘He’s a hazard on the dance floor. It must run in the family.’ He gives me a pointed look, and I deliberately glance away.
‘My mum taught me how to dance,’ he continues. ‘She feels very strongly that every man should be able to hold his own on the dance floor.’
The rhythm speeds up as the song hits the bridge, and Cash easily matches our stride with the tempo.
‘That’s how she and my dad met back in the day,’ he explains. ‘At a friend’s wedding. They bumped into each other on the dance floor, and that was that.’
‘That’s really sweet.’
‘Yeah.’ Cash gives me a soft smile. ‘They had a great relationship; from what I remember of it, anyway.’
‘How old—’
‘He died when I was nine,’ Cash says, knowing what my question was going to be. ‘So it’s just been me and Mum ever since.’
‘She did a great job with you,’ I say softly, and I mean it too. I’m rapidly beginning to realise that the Cash I made up in my head – the egotistical asshole with no personality – is not the same person holding me right now.
There are layers to him, and I want to peel them all back and see what’s at his core.
‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ I say, deciding it’s time for me to do my part to mend this rift between us. ‘I overstepped. I get it, and you’re right. You’re Dane’s best friend. I wouldn’t want to ruin that over a stupid holiday fling.’
Cash swallows. ‘Yeah. Exactly.’
‘And promise me you won’t tell Dane about any of this?’ I grimace. ‘He’ll never let me live it down.’
We meet each other’s gaze, and I have to focus, so I don’t drown in his eyes.
‘I promise,’ he says. ‘It’ll be our secret.’