Fill Me (Rouse Me 3)

I squeeze her hand tighter, trying to soak in every damn ounce of this moment.

After a while she lets go and gets to her feet. She looks at me softly, a small smile on her lips. "Let's go to dinner."

"I have to do something first." I stand and slide my hands around her waist.

"And what is that?"

"This."

I press my lips into hers, pulling her body into mine. I kiss her until she melts into me, until she's putty, until I'm sure she'll remember this moment forever.

The rest of the night is perfect. Fantastic food. Fantastic drinks. Not a word from either of us about what Alyssa is or isn't eating. Honestly, it barely crosses my mind. She did okay on her own in New York City.

We talk and joke during dinner, but it does nothing to ease the dread in my gut. We can't keep going on like this, leaving everything unsaid.

I failed her. I wasn't there when she needed me. The least I can do to make it up to her is ensure we have a nice trip together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Alyssa

I'm a kid in a damn candy store. Sure, I've been treated to the finest things before. But not like this. Never like this.

The gorgeous hotel room is only the tip of the iceberg. This whole damn island is amazing. Indulgent, expensive, perfect.

Our morning starts with Kona coffee. Real Kona coffee--creamy, smooth, sweet even without globs of honey. I am in coffee nirvana, and I drink cup after cup after cup. Luke teases me, licking honey off his spoon every time I order another cup.

There are no comments about proper breakfast food. No comments about caffeine in moderation. Actually, he hasn't said a thing about my eating since... since forever. That's what I wanted. It's a sign he respects my wishes. That he trusts me. Not that he's stopped caring. Not that he's closing off so he can cut ties.

I shake the thought away, focusing on another sip of perfect, creamy coffee. Focusing on Luke's big, brown eyes. His million-dollar grin. His messy hair.

We talk about little things. TV. Movies. Gossip about Laurie. From the sound of it, he's spent most of his free time in front of the TV or the theater screen. Not that I'd expect anything else from him.

There's something missing in the conversation. Some place where we aren't quite connecting. But I push it aside, push it down as deep as it can go. We're in paradise. We may as well enjoy it.

Our day is too full for dwelling on whatever it is that's wrong. There's a surf lesson, a hike at a volcano park, dinner at a little seafood restaurant under the stars. We spend our evening at a quiet bar, staring into each other's eyes, whispering sweet nothings that promise only the immediate future. No I'll always love you. No forever. No you fill me with so much joy that I must make you my wife.

Only now. Only tonight.

We take a long, slow walk along the beach on our way back to the hotel. The air is warm, salty, sweet. I squeeze the soft sand with my feet, letting it creep between my toes. Luke presses his hand against mine, but there's a coldness to it. Something is missing.

I swallow hard. The last few months have been miserable. It's not like we can carry on ignoring it. It's not like we're both going to forget it.

But I'm not ready to broach the subject.

So I squeeze his hand a little tighter, and I press my feet into the soft sand. It gives just enough. It's just hard enough. Just wet enough.

The waves roll onto the beach with a gentle roar. It's so quiet here. So peaceful.

I turn to Luke. I can just make out his expression in the darkness. There's something on his face. He's not here. He's somewhere else. Probably trying to figure out how to tell me he can't put up with me anymore.

I push the thought down as far as it will go. It's so pretty here. The sky is a glorious shade of purple, and it's streaked with stars. The water is so calm, so peaceful, so damn blue.

He stops and brings his eyes to mine. They're still so earnest, so full of life.

"Hey." He pushes a hair behind my ear. His touch is soft, sweet, electric.

"Hey yourself." I lean into him, soaking in the feeling of his body. There's something so safe about it, even if he is...