Your Endless Love (The Bennett Family 9)

***

r /> After Alex leaves, I wait for five minutes before skipping out the door. My gaze darts around as I head to my bungalow. Is it still called the walk of shame if no one sees you? Well... no one you know. Plenty of the hotel residents pass me by, and I pat my hair in a fruitless attempt. My stomach growls, protesting the lack of food. Excitement wires me up as I remember Alex promised to find me some muffins, but then I force myself to think about something else, because I’m still running a little high on last night’s shenanigans, and my brain cells are not fully awake yet. That’s a recipe for drawing the wrong conclusions. I’m a pro at misinterpreting men’s intentions for more.

After freshening up, I stuff my notes for today’s classes in my beach bag and head outside. I’m only teaching in the afternoon, but I like reviewing my notes every morning. Typically, I keep mulling over them at the back of my mind for the rest of the day and come up with new examples or a better way to explain a technique.

My feet carry me to the stretch of water near Alex’s bungalow almost by themselves. When I spot him sitting on a sunbed, phone pressed to his ear, I get cold feet at the potential for awkwardness. I wish there was a handbook with instructions for a one-night stand with a man you know and are stuck with for another week. A man you like very much. I reason that since we’ve set free all that pent-up sexual tension, I might not get all... tingly around him anymore.

Yeah, that’s just wishful thinking. The closer I get to him, the signs become more poignant. He’s with his back to me, but I warm all over at seeing those corded muscles, the strong arms.

When I notice the plate with three muffins next to him, butterflies roam in my stomach.

God, help me. Butterflies have no business here. Putting his phone down, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, then turns around, a corner of his mouth twisting up when he sees me.

“Look what I got you.” He points at the plate.

“How did you manage to get three when you got there so late?”

“By employing my irresistible charm and talent.”

I drop my bag on the sand, sitting at the other end of the sunbed. “Fess up. Does that include distraction or stealing?”

“Negative. I went directly to the kitchen and asked for a new batch.”

“Oh, wow.”

I bite into a muffin, taking him in. He runs his hand through his hair again, frustration etched onto his features.

“Sooo, who was that on the phone?”

He hesitates. “Amy. She called about the fiasco yesterday. Her manager and PR team are going berserk.”

“Why? You’re painted as the bad guy.”

“Yeah, but this will impact the box office turnout for our movie.”

“Wow, really?”

“When you use the costars’ real-life relationship as a main selling point, yes.”

I move on to the second muffin, pondering just how screwed up it must be for your professional life to be so entangled with your personal life. A question burns on my lips, but it’s not my place to ask, damn it.

“Summer?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it that you want to ask me?”

I startle, squeezing the muffin so tight that my fingers sink into it. Am I that transparent?

“I... doesn’t matter.”

He eyes the half-mashed muffin in my hand. “This is the first time I’ve talked to her in a month. I don’t have romantic feelings for her anymore. If I’m honest, things between us were rocky long before we broke up. Does that answer any... potential questions?”

I swear to God, my heart just sprouted wings, and it’s about to take off from my chest.

“Wow. Yeah, you could say that.”

I cross and uncross my legs, then cross them again, trying to finish eating the smashed mushed-up muffin as elegantly as possible.