Page 44 of The Honeymoon Hack

But the flutter in my stomach told me I was lying.

Under the shower spray, with hot water rinsing away the salt and sand, memories flooded back. Memories of the aftermath of our night together ten years ago. The weeks of silence. The distance we’d maintained. All from one stupid mistake.

We’d eventually patched things up, but only after explicitly agreeing to pretend it never happened and to never speak of it again.

Because Will was the one constant in my life, the anchor when everything else headed for a whirlpool.

He’d been there when we moved to Halifax after my father’s arrest, when other kids whispered about the traitor’s daughter behind my back, when my mother retreated into work and secrets. He’d been there after every prison visit, waiting for me without any questions, just quietly understanding. He’d been my safety blanket when my world was chaos.

The only time he hadn’t been there was when Shawn broke up with me. With Will in London, I’d had no one to help methrough those lonely days, no familiar shoulder to cry on, no voice of reason to tell me I was better off without that jerk.

Those weeks without Will had been a preview of what life would be like if he weren’t part of it, and the emptiness had almost broken me.

I couldn’t risk losing him for good.

By the time I emerged from the bathroom, I’d regained some measure of composure. Will sat at his desk, already dressed in a navy blue Mnemis polo shirt.

“I’ll finish with your phone,” I said, sliding into my chair. “The modified Mnemis app only takes a sec. Just remember to disconnect from the Wi-Fi if you need to access the Reynolds partition.”

He looked up, eyes meeting mine for a moment before I glanced away. “Thanks. Ready for your first shift?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I placed his phone on his desk, not trusting myself to hand it to him. If I touched him again… “I’ll mostly be watching training videos today.”

“Ronnie mentioned last night we’d probably take a dinner break around six. I’ll text you when we’re heading to The Grotto?”

“See you then.” I nodded and hurried out the door. I should have walked with him to the security desk. That’s what our cover called for. But not today. Maybe tomorrow.

The Bridge was humming with activity when I arrived. Claire waved me over to a workstation in the middle of the room, where she provided a brief overview of the training system before setting me up with a series of training modules.

“You can work through these today,” she said, bringing up a playlist of videos on the ultrawide monitor. “They’ll teach you the basics of our support protocols and help you understand the kinds of issues clients typically report.”

I settled in, grateful for the focus that work provided. The videos were dry but informative, covering a range of topics from basic troubleshooting to advanced security protocols. I took detailed notes, partly to pretend I was an enthusiastic new employee, but mostly to keep my mind occupied with something other than Will’s lips.

And his hands.

And the intensity in his gaze.

Shake it off.

During a break between modules, I ran a few basic searches in the ticketing system. Finding Fenix wouldn’t be that easy, would it?

“Of course not,” I said to myself. The system kept redirecting me to beginner content, blocking access to more advanced material. Even with my years of experience mining data, I couldn’t bypass the tiered access system without risking our cover. I’d need to be patient.

Around six p.m., my phone buzzed with a text from Will through the Mnemis app:We’re heading for food now. Meet us at The Grotto?

A rush of heat started in my chest and spread outward. Suddenly I was back on that beach lounger, his weight pressing me down, his tongue sliding against mine, his hands?—

I swallowed hard, forcing the image away.

The training video on my machine had stopped. I’d missed five minutes. With a frustrated sigh, I rewound and tried to focus.

I texted Will back:Don’t wait for me. I’m in the zone. Probably won’t take a break today.

Good excuse. He’d buy that.

But as I resumed the video, I struggled to concentrate. The technical details that normally captured my full attentionseemed to slide away, replaced by the memory of Will’s touch, his stubble, the soft sound he made when I pulled him closer.

What is wrong with you?