Cruel Kiss

I considered calling for room service. We could stay in bed all morning and forget about the rest of the world. None of our friends would care if we ditched until lunch, right?

I’d just been contemplating an omelet when I heard the bed creak from the other room. Whitley had her clothes back on and was looking around the room, wide-eyed.

“Morning,” I said, leaning against the bathroom door.

Her head whipped to the side, and she relaxed when she saw I was still there. “Hey.”

“You want anything for breakfast? I was thinking of ordering in.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Um … actually, I was going to go back to my room.”

I saw it then. Fear. She had the look of a trapped bird, trying to escape the coop. I’d never seen Whitley look at me like that before, but I’d certainly seen her look like that when she was interested in someone else.

“You don’t have to go.”

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, which was wild from the salty Caribbean air. “Gavin, I … this …”

She couldn’t seem to string her words together. But I knew what she was going to say. It shouldn’t have happened. It was too soon. This was just a fling, a one-time thing. It didn’t sting any less.

Of course, it was exactly what I should have expected. It was how both Whitley and I always operated. Plus, she had just gotten out of a serious relationship. With one of my best friends.

Fuck, I was an idiot.

“You don’t have to explain,” I said quickly. The last thing I wanted was for her to be uncomfortable after the incredible night we’d had. “I know that you and Robert just broke up.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, and then she nodded. “Robert … right.”

“And you wanted a vacation fling.”

“I did.” She chewed on her bottom lip. The lips I’d fantasized about and discovered they were way better than even my imagination. “I really didn’t mean to put you in this position, Gavin.”

“What position?”

She looked down and then away. “You know, Robert’s your friend.”

“He is, but …”

“And he doesn’t have to know.”

I closed my mouth on that. He doesn’t have to know.

Oh shit, I’d definitely misinterpreted all of this. She wanted it to be a secret. She didn’t want anyone to know.

“I don’t want to come between friends. Lark told us what happened with Penn and Natalie, and I don’t want that for y’all,” she said, a hint of her Southern accent peeking out. She always tried so hard to hide her roots. That she’d slipped was admission enough that this had rattled her.

“You won’t come between us.”

“Good,” she said on a breath of relief. “So … we can stay friends?”

Friends.

It felt like a gut punch. But, fuck, it must be what she wanted. Last night had been incredible. I’d wanted it for a long time. I couldn’t actually imagine never having it again. I wasn’t going to force the girl to see my side though.

“If that’s what you want,” I offered.

She nodded and took a step toward the door. “It’s probably for the best. Right? We just got carried away last night with the bet and the drinking and dancing.”

And fucking.

We’d made no promises. We’d never said exactly what this was. We’d just lived in the moment. And I couldn’t regret a single thing. Not a single thing. Even if it was the last time it would happen.

“We said it wouldn’t ruin everything,” she reminded me. The words she’d uttered last night before the kiss that changed everything.

Maybe that had been a promise.

And I was a fool.

I’d thought she meant that it wouldn’t ruin us. But she meant Robert. She meant our friendship. I didn’t clarify. I didn’t even ask her to be more specific. I’d just demanded what she wanted, and when she said me, I’d thrown the whole rulebook out the window.

But I was the player. I could handle this. I’d gotten my shot with her. And now, it was over. At least now, I knew.

“It won’t ruin anything.”

She nodded. “Good. I just think we should act like nothing has changed.”

“Okay.” Except that everything had changed.

“I’ll just …” She gestured to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“All right.”

She was halfway out the door before I followed after her. I leaned against the doorframe and watched her take the stairs.

“Whit,” I called.

She turned back around in surprise. “Yeah?”

“I had a good time.”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled. It was almost a shy thing. Not something I’d ever seen from her before. “Me too.”

“It’s too bad it can’t happen again.”

She laughed softly and winked at me. Playful Whitley was back in place. Was it a mask, or was this reality?

“It is.”

Then, she strolled back to her villa. I ran a hand back through my hair as she disappeared inside.