Xavier came up beside me. “I forgot you know each other.” There was a strange note in his voice, but when I glanced at him, he turned away.
“Here.” He handed me an unopened bottle from a nearby table. “I have a feeling you’re going to need this.”
I couldn’t do it anymore.
After I rejected Xavier’s beer, made him a hastily drawn-up contract for our latest deal, locked myself in my room, read about the sixth principle of crisis communications, and confirmed with the resort and every other resort within a five-mile radius that there were no available rooms for the night, I gave up trying to pretend Xavier and Friends didn’t exist.
I wanted to stay in my room, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Xavier said during our massage.
So you like to be needed.
Who didn’t like to be needed? Being needed meant we were good at and good for something. People didn’t leave those they needed. It wasn’t the same as being loved, but it was better than nothing.
There was a lot to unpack there, but since I had no desire to do that, I finally wandered outside and joined the party, if only so I didn’t have to be alone with my thoughts.
The festivities had migrated from our living room to the private beach after sunset, and the bonfire made it easy for me to locate the heart of the party. Xavier’s eyebrows shot up when he saw me, but he didn’t stop me from downing my first, second, or third glass of sangria.
If I were to survive the night around him and his friends, I needed to be (very) drunk.
However, despite my presence, I held off on actually participating in the revelry until Luca spotted me and attempted to drag me from my seat by the bonfire.
“You have to dance,” he insisted. “It’s one of the island’s rules.”
I didn’t budge. “Rules are meant to be broken.”
“I didn’t expect a cliché from you, of all people.” His cheeks were flushed from alcohol, and a sparkle brightened his eyes.
Realization dawned. He was flirting with me.
With his dark hair and olive skin, Luca was certainly good-looking enough, but I searched for any flicker of attraction and found none. Even if I were attracted to him, I had no interest in being a rebound hookup.
“I like to surprise people every once in a while.” I glanced across the bonfire and caught Xavier’s eye.
He was sandwiched between the brunette from earlier and her twin. He appeared uninterested in what they were saying, but when he saw me looking, his gaze flicked to Luca before he turned to face one of the twins.
He’d left me alone since we arrived at the beach, which I was obviously grateful for. It wasn’t like I needed his company.
“Still, you can’t sit on the sidelines for this song.” Luca’s voice brought my attention back to him. “It’s practically illegal.”
The twins burst into laughter at something Xavier said. His dimples flashed, and one of them placed her hand on his arm.
I suppressed an eye roll. I doubted anything he said was that funny.
I tried to tune out the party around me and focus on the sound of the waves, but Luca continued pestering me until my headache reached new heights and I’d do anything, even freaking dance, to get him to stop.
I should’ve stayed in my room.
“Stop talking.” I held up a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. “If I dance for one song, will you go away?”
Maybe that was a bit rude, but I was grumpy, annoyed, and not nearly drunk enough. I wasn’t in the mood to coddle anyone’s feelings.
Luca appeared unfazed by my sharp response. “Sure.” “Fine.” I stood, my irritation escalating when the twins laughed again at something else Xavier said. You’d think he was a one-man Saturday Night Live show by the way they were carrying on. “But I need another drink first.”
Luca and I swung by the beach bar for the resort’s signature cocktail, which was thankfully stronger than the sangria. However, my renewed buzz wasn’t enough to erase my self-consciousness when we hit the makeshift dance floor.
I’d never been a great dancer. I took the requisite ballet lessons as a kid and stopped when Madame Olga dismissed me as one of her “most difficult” pupils. I tried ballroom dancing when I was older and didn’t fare much better.
When I went out with my friends, I could lose myself in our group and not worry about how stupid I looked, but I didn’t have Vivian, Isabella, or Alessandra to shield me here. It was just me, the music, and a dozen pair of eyes that were inexplicably trained on me.
“Whoa.” Luca half laughed, half winced when I accidentally stepped on his foot. He steadied me with a hand on my hip.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten that drink earlier.”
My cheeks heated. The song hadn’t finished, and I already regretted my decision.
“It’s okay.” Despite his drunkenness, Luca picked up on my embarrassment. “Here.” He placed his other hand on my hip. “Let’s try—”
“Don’t bother.”
My spine stiffened at the familiar voice behind me.
“You’re so drunk, you’ll be lucky if you don’t take both of you down.” An edge ran beneath Xavier’s otherwise affable tone. “Why don’t you sober up and come back?”
Luca glanced at his friend, then at me. He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Good idea.”
I crossed my arms and didn’t move while Xavier came around to face me. “Here I thought you were perfect at everything.” The edge was gone, replaced by a teasing lilt. “I need to give you dance lessons. Can’t have you making me look bad in front of my friends.” He’d changed out of his earlier outfit into a white linen shirt and casual pants. Here, in the glow of the firelight, with his hair tousled by the wind and his muscles loose from drink and relaxation, he was disturbingly, devastatingly attractive.
