Her shoulders scrunched up, a movement of friction against my arm. I’d never noticed how preferable our height difference was. She was on the taller side, but several inches shorter than me so that whatever little motions she made were brushes against unsuspecting places. Nothing dirty, or even remotely arousing—this was Bane after all—but surprisingly not irritating.
Her delicate shrug and innocent but overtly pleased expression said it all, and the boys seemed to catch her nonverbal exclamation.
“They look extremely nice,” Sam commented, then whispered, “But, uh, don’t tell my bride. She’s going to wonder why I didn’t splurge that hard.”
I managed a chuckle. Sure. I could only assume these villas were expensive. Sam was well off as an engineer for Boeing back in Seattle, so for him not to splurge on the best room at this weirdly arranged multi-location-in-one-hotel was saying something. I had to remember to check out the pricing later. If I couldn’t get a room, even for one night, and I had to crash on Bane’s couch (presumably an expensive villa had a couch), then I should at least know what monetary amount to give her for my part.
Aamar’s phone pinged and he told Sam, “The wedding planner is ready. Wants to meet at the beach gazebo.”
“We better get going,” Sam said, taking an awkward step toward Bane as if he weren’t sure if he should shake her hand or hug her or…
She offered a fist. A fist bump. Of course she would. “I’m not much of a handshake or hugs type of person, so please don’t take offense,” she explained with that kilowatt smile that had disarmed my friends yet again.
When the guys had disappeared into an elevator, she slipped her arm out of mine and I said, “You don’t have to cross your comfort zone by playing along.”
“What?” She looked up at me with those soft eyes.
“The touching.”
She waved me off and scrolled through her phone. “I know you, it’s fine. Unless you prefer that I don’t?”
I glanced at her. I had no qualms about her touching me.
Bane’s lips slowly tugged up into a baiting smile. “In case the mere touch of my hand on your arm should make you combust?”
I groaned. “All right. Let’s move on.”
“Okay. What time and day do we meet for the wedding? Better add that to my incredibly packed schedule.”
“Saturday early evening. They have this thing about sunset pictures.”
“Cool. Guess I better acquire a dress? Is it formal?”
“Casual. But not like…” I swept a hand down the length of her body.
She deadpanned. “Joggers are in. Haven’t you seen women wearing these with high heels? It’s all the fashion rage.”
“A casual dress or slacks and a blouse would be preferable. You’re going to be in their wedding pictures.”
She cringed. “I’ll try my best to evade the cameras.”
I wasn’t going to argue on that one, especially when our fake breakup would happen shortly after we returned home. There was no need for someone to bring up Bane every time they saw her in wedding pictures.
What ever happened to Bhanu?
Why’d you guys break up?
How long were you two even together that you brought her to our wedding? She’s in half the photos.
And so on. Seeing these choice pictures framed on Sam’s wall every time I went over? Everyone loving her and constantly hammering me for answers on how I could let another good one walk away?
“For everything else, I’d say comfortable.”
She blinked at me. “What everything else?”
“We’re four days ahead of the wedding. The whole point is to turn this into a hangout. We have excursions planned.”
“Like what? And am I supposed to actually attend all of them?” Her jaw dropped as if spending time together was the worst thing in the world, and it probably was. It was bad enough to have my ex in my space, but now Bane would be taking up a good portion, too. There was no place to turn without seeing misery.
I stuck my hands into my pockets and shrugged. “I’m not going to force you into anything, but my friends will wonder. I could always tell them you’re splitting time between us and your sister. That’s believable.”
Her shoulders slumped. “My sister is working while I’m here, and she’ll get on me if I don’t actually leave the villa. Okay. What excursions and when?”
Bane dutifully entered dates and times for our outings: dinners, drinks, hiking, an afternoon on a boat, et cetera. At least there wasn’t a rehearsal dinner. That was saved for the immediate family flying in.
She huffed, muttering, “Tourist things.”
“Well, yes, we are tourists.”
“Not even one cultural or local thing. Something that only this land can offer?” She tsked, as if it were a damn shame. It probably was, but the couple had set the events and we simply complied.
“I’m sure we can find time to wander off and be cultural,” I added, not thinking she’d take my suggestion seriously.
“I have shorts and shirts aplenty for these excursions.”
“And something to swim in?”
Her eyes flickered and heat rose to my face as I quickly added, “If you want to swim. I don’t plan on swimming in the ocean. It’s too…unsettling.”
