It takes exactly thirty minutes after we left Oahu and the glittering shoreline of Honolulu for my heart to start acting up again. The little skip in my chest began as soon as Rafael sauntered out of his cabin in nothing but a bathing suit and that same pair of Ray-Bans.
I was supposed to remain strong, but one look at him applying sunscreen like a social media thirst trap sent my thoughts straight into the gutter, and I haven’t been able to find my way out since.
I fight to keep my tongue in my mouth as I check him out. His body is something most people wish to achieve when they hire a personal trainer and are blessed with the right genetics, so I can’t help marveling at it.
The first thing I notice are his abs, followed by his bright lobster-print swim trunks that match the ones Nico selected to wear this morning. It’s a silly pattern that Dahlia purchased for the two of them, and one I imagine Rafael only wears because it makes his son happy.
The swim trunks stop halfway down Rafael’s thick thighs, showing off a set of Herculean-sized calves he has earned from his daily workouts.
At some point between him finishing his sunscreen application and walking over to me with a smile, I’ve lost my ability to speak.
“Eleanor?”
“Hm?” Those damn butterflies in my stomach start acting up again, their invisible wings fluttering uncontrollably as I rip my gaze away from Rafael’s toned, glistening chest.
“You good?” He wields his smile like a weapon aimed straight for my heart.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” My stomach flips, and it has nothing to do with the boat rocking to the side as we break through another wave.
“Because you didn’t even make a fuss when I called you Eleanor.”
“Mm-hmm.” I’m too distracted by the defined muscles of his hips to pay attention to the words coming out of his mouth.
“Nico should be out in a couple of minutes. He’s on the phone with my aunt, who says hi, by the way.”
“Great.” I try to keep my gaze above his shoulders, but it dips toward his abs.
He leans against the rail beside me and looks out at the rippling waves. “It’s a nice day.”
“Yup.”
“Your speechlessness is doing wonders for my ego, by the way.”
I turn with heated cheeks and stare out at the horizon. “I was…assessing.”
His knowing smirk could make me drop dead right here, right now.
At least my last view would be nice.
“Is that what we call checking someone out nowadays?” he asks.
Part of me wants to flirt back, but after last night, I need to keep my distance for my heart’s sake.
“I should see if Nico needs any help,” I say instead.
He turns to look out at the sea with a frown. “Yeah. Good idea.”
I take advantage of my moment of clarity and head back inside the yacht before I say or do something else I’ll regret, although I struggle to forget the look on Rafael’s face before I left.
He was the one who made his stance about us clear, so why should I feel bad about him appearing rejected?
Because you like him, whether he feels the same way about you or not.
According to Rafael, whatever Nico wants on the yacht, Nico gets, so long as it doesn’t require me doing anything that could make me sick. Rafael thinking of my well-being was sweet and a gesture I greatly appreciated after Nico wanted to go wakeboarding and tubing.
Just the idea of being on the smaller boat made my stomach turn, so I hung out on the back deck, watching the two of them from the yacht instead. Nico is decent at wakeboarding since Rafael and Julian have been taking him out on the lake for years, but his father is something else entirely.
I should expect nothing less from someone so athletic, but watching him was an experience I didn’t know I needed to witness firsthand. Strained muscles. Bright smiles. Washboard abs clenching and muscles straining with every jump, turn, and spin.
At one point, I’m wondering if Rafael was trying to show off with all his flips and tricks, but I keep my suspicions to myself when he comes back aboard with a smile. Nico becomes excited by whatever he sees on the horizon and disappears into his cabin for the binoculars he packed.
Rafael finds me on the deck—accidentally, it seems, based on the way he freezes midstride before walking over to my spot.
“What have you been up to?” Rafael asks.
I pretend to be consumed by whatever doodles I drew beside a few half-finished song lyrics. “Not much.”
He folds his arms against his chest. “Working on the song?”
“Trying to.” I shut my notebook and look up at him. Water drips down his face and hair before trickling across his tanned torso, but I don’t let my eyes linger there for long.
No matter how much they want to.
“How’s it going?” He looks at the cover of my notebook, completely unaware of the lyrics hidden between the pages inspired by him.
I tuck it under my leg just in case. “Why does it matter?”
His eyes narrow. “I’m being polite.”
“No need to try so hard on my behalf.”
His lips press together. “Are you still upset with me about last night?”
Yes, but I’d rather die than listen to him bring up that subject again. “Nope. Just struggling with Cole’s song.”
Shit. I did not mean to admit that.
A frown line appears between his brows. “So you two are working together now?”
My heart beats harder in my chest. “Yes, but it won’t get in the way of my current job, so don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” A dark look passes over him.
I know provoking him is a terrible idea, but after the way he pushed me away last night, I want to get under his skin like he does mine. To leave a permanent mark like the one he left on me.
Using his jealousy against Cole is petty, immature, and a strategy I’ve never employed before, but screw it.
I throw my hair over my shoulder and flash a smile. “Yeah. Cole’s been so great and supportive with the whole lawyer thing. He even went out of his way to set up a meeting for me.”
Rafael’s left eye twitches. “I wasn’t aware you needed to speak to a lawyer.”
“I know.”
“I could have helped.”
“Yeah, but Cole offered. Can you imagine someone being that nice without wanting something in return?”
“Oh, I’m sure he wants something,” he mutters under his breath.
“What was that?” I bat my lashes.
“He wants you.”
“Huh. That could be fun, plus, who knows? Maybe he’s the one.”
“You deserve better than a guy like him.” His sour expression makes me want to smile.
Rafael Lopez is jealous of another man because of me. My heart does a little squeeze at the idea because being the cause of his jealousy for once makes me downright giddy.
Based on the tension in his face and shoulders, Rafael most likely hates himself for it, which only makes the realization that much sweeter. He may not want to feel this way, but he can’t help it.
Rafael is good at hiding his true feelings behind a mask, and I desperately want to tear it off, even if it gets me in trouble.
“Keep talking like that, and I may start to think you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“No?” Liar, I tell myself as I stand and rake my nails over his chest.
His hands curl into two tight balls. “No.”
A small laugh breaks free, and before I have a chance to stop myself, I ask, “Is it that hard to admit you care about someone besides Nico and your family?”
“Yes,” he says with a hiss.
“Why?”
He doesn’t pause to think. To breathe. To even second-guess his killer blow before he delivers it. “They haven’t given me a reason not to trust them.”
I stumble back a step. “I thought…” I’m so hurt by his statement, I can’t even finish the sentence without giving myself away.
“What? That you would magically have my trust again only two weeks after you broke it?” His harsh words make me feel foolish because I did think that.
I was living in a fantasy, thinking we could rebuild whatever trust we both broke. If I’m being honest, I should have taken him thinking I would lie about winning a stupid sandcastle championship as a warning sign, but I ignored it, just like the others I turned a blind eye to.
Rafael was absolutely right when he said we were wrong for each other, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I wanted to make him jealous about Cole to prove some stupid point that didn’t need proving in the first place—and look where it got me.
A whole bunch of heartache. Again.
Tears of frustration spring to my eyes, and I blink them away. Crying in front of someone is bad enough, but doing so in front of the person that brought the tears out in the first place?
Embarrassing.
Rafael reaches out, a silent apology written across his face, but I take another step back.
“You’re right. I did think you could trust me, but it clearly was a big mistake.” I grab my notebook, turn toward the stairs, and walk away with my head held high, pretending Rafael didn’t rip my heart out for the second time in twenty-four hours.
Hopefully, I learned my lesson for the final time.
Rafael Lopez keeps his inner circle tight, and it’s time I realized I will always be on the outside looking in.
