CHAPTER 7

Xavier

I didn’t sleep well for the second night in a row.

Instead of the bridge dream, I was haunted by images of Sloane’s face before she left last night.

What the hell had I said wrong? She usually took my comments in stride, and she never left a conversation when I had the upper hand.

She couldn’t be that upset about a stupid bad-dancer joke, right?

My foul mood worsened when I woke to an empty villa. Her luggage was still in her room, but she was a ghost from morning to early evening.

I tried to put Sloane out of my mind and focus on Luca. He’d been pretty bummed since he and Leaf broke up, though my sympathy for him had dwindled when I saw him flirting with my fucking publicist at the beach.

She wasn’t even his type.

I brooded over my drink while my friends engaged in their usual shenanigans at the resort’s private beach club.

I should be having the time of my life, but ennui had grabbed hold of me and refused to let go. I’d seen it all and done it all. After the initial rush of a good time, these parties were all the same.

I could’ve given the club owner some tips on how to improve. The sound system wasn’t picking up the music’s underlying bass, and the girl-to-guy ratio was off. The decor, the entertainment, the food…they were good, not great, but how people ran their business wasn’t my business, so I kept my mouth shut.

Don’t you get bored of doing nothing? Sloane’s question echoed in my head.

I pushed it aside, downed my drink and faced Luca, who lounged next to me by the pool, nursing a hangover and a beer. The sun had set, but the beach club was just getting into the swing of things. “Dante know you’re hanging out with us again?”

Luca’s brother and CEO of the Russo Group, the multibillion-dollar luxury goods conglomerate, wasn’t a fan of anyone in our circle.

Honestly, I didn’t blame him. If I’d had a younger brother, I wouldn’t want him hanging out with me either.

“He’s not my warden.” Nevertheless, Luca glanced around like the intimidating older Russo was going to pop out from behind a potted plant. “I get vacation days like everyone else, and I can spend them however I like.”

“Hmm.”

“Speaking of which, where’s Sloane?”

An unpleasant burn ignited in my chest. “Probably reading a boring nonfiction book somewhere. Why?”

Luca shrugged. “She’s hot. She’s single. I could use a distraction from the Leaf situation.”

The burn exploded into a wildfire and set my teeth on my edge. “She’s not the rebound type.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” I slammed my empty drink on the side table. “Go for the Daugherty twins. They’re looking for a good time.”

“Can’t. Their family is in textiles, which reminds me of goats, which reminds of Leaf.”

For fuck’s sake. “What about Evelyn? She just broke up with her boyfriend. You can rebound together.”

“Nah. I hooked up with her years ago.” Luca stared up at the sky with a drunk, dreamy expression. “I think Sloane works best. She’s so…shit!” He bolted upright when I knocked over a champagne ice bucket and its contents spilled across his chest. “What the fuck, man?”

“Sorry. Must’ve had more to drink than I thought.” I stood. I didn’t know why the idea of him and Sloane bothered me so much, but I knew I needed to get out of here before I did something more unforgivable than dousing my friend in ice. “I’m calling it a night.”

“Wait! What about…”

The crowd drowned out the rest of Luca’s words as I stormed out of the beach club and toward the villa.

I’d convinced Sloane to come to Spain, hoping it would break her from her comfort zone, but I was turning out to be the one in over my head.

SLOANE

By the time I woke up, I’d already brushed off my moment of weakness from last night, but I wasn’t in the mood to face Xavier or his friends—who were thankfully staying at their own villa instead of ours—so I actively avoided them all day.

I woke up at the crack of dawn for a hike, holed myself up in a conference room for lunch, and waited until Xavier left for the beach club before I snuck back to the villa.

It was early evening, so I had a few hours to myself before he returned. I was tempted to work, but I’d promised him I wouldn’t, and a pesky sense of honor prevented me from going back on my word.

Instead, I curled up beneath a blanket in the living room and watched the Spanish rom-com onscreen with increasing disgust.

“Te amo,” the actor whispered in Spanish. English subtitles translated what he said. “Nunca te dejaré.” I’ll never leave you.

“Ugh.” I scribbled furiously in my review notebook. “Film an after-the-movie special and see if that’s really true.”

Romantic comedy was the most unrealistic genre in Hollywood. Falling off a seventh-floor balcony and getting up a minute later to chase after the bad guy was more believable than workplace rivals who suddenly “discover” they have feelings for each other and live happily ever after.

The concept of happily ever after was the biggest scam since the advent of the overpriced college textbook industry.

“It’s not The Bachelor, Luna. The after-the-movie special would just be the actors leaving set.”

My head snapped up.

Xavier leaned against the entryway, wearing a pair of linen pants, an amused expression, and nothing else.

“It’s rude to sneak up on someone,” I said, my pulse pounding from his unexpected interruption. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you? “And for God’s sake, put on a shirt. You’re not Matthew McConaughey.”

His laugh did nothing to ease my annoyance.

Two minutes later, he dropped onto the seat next to mine, fully clothed. “Happy? Now you won’t be distracted by my incredible physique.”

“No, I’ll just suffocate beneath the weight of your inflated ego.”

“There are worse ways to go.”