4. Zack

Callum jumped away from me as though he'd been electrocuted.

Awareness prickled over the back of my neck—and I fucking knew who I would see before I laid eyes on him. He'd had that effect on my body when we'd been kids, and it had only intensified to the point the hair rose on my nape as though desperate to reach for him.

Shifting around, I took in the man I'd hoped to never lay eyes on again.

Landon fucking Matthews.

Same as back then, he was like a siren's song entwining around my soul and yet squeezing like a deadly python hellbent on stealing my breath.

He was quite a bit taller than when I'd last seen him at fifteen, and Landon's body had filled out to perfection. The light brown hair that could never be tamed still topped his head in a rumpled mess I wanted to spear my fingers into. He approached on swift feet, and those amber eyes with the gold around his pupil came into focus, full of stubbornness as they used to be.

I cursed as heat rushed through me over the fact he'd only gotten even better looking and twice as magnetic. Goddamn him to hell for making me feel this way.

"What the actual fuck?" I shot a scowl at Callum, who stared at Landon as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Zackary." Landon breathed my full name with a deeper, richer voice than I remembered him having, sending shivers clear from my nape to my tailbone.

Every muscle in my body prepared to throw down, I turned on him, ready to punch his lights out—or shove my tongue down his throat because the conflicting feels were that. Damned. Strong. My five days in paradise had just gone to hell in a handbasket. What that meant for my job and client, I was about to find out.

"Why the fuck are you here?" I growled at Landon.

His gaze darted to Callum. "Was this your doing?" Landon's voice lowered in a soothing tone.

Wait.

I stepped back, glancing between the two men, wanting to flee over the unknown and discomfort racing through me. Curiosity killed the cat though. "What the actual fuck is going on here?" I demanded yet again, hands fisted at my sides.

"I-I can explain," Callum said before swallowing hard. He gestured toward our private nook. "Can we please sit down and talk?"

Landon knew from experience the last thing I wanted to do was have a little chat that included him, but Callum didn't.

Or did he?

The way his nervous gaze flitted toward me, his blue-green eyes filled with wariness assured me he was well aware of Landon's and my past.

"Absolutely not," I bit out between my clenched jaw. The shrimp and rice I'd enjoyed for dinner wanted to make an appearance due to the vise squeezing my stomach.

Callum's gaze flitted over my face before his stare hardened slightly with resolve even though a tremor rippled through him. "What happened to pleasing the client?"

Fucker.

"What about goddamn boundaries?" I shot out, heat lacing every word even though the man obviously wasn't aware of mine. Still. I stood off-kilter, a riotous mess in every way imaginable, wanting two different things.

Pink flushed Callum's high cheekbones, and he inhaled slowly as Landon shifted on his feet in my periphery. I became conscious of having every set of eyes in close proximity on us.

"Please," Callum whispered, and fuck me for not being able to say no. His pleading puppy dog eyes I'd enjoyed staring into while dancing, our bodies pressed tight, arousal thick between us, did me in. "Allow me to explain, Zack."

"Goddamnit," I whispered harshly, stomping toward the table we'd vacated a few minutes earlier. So much for a night spent sweaty and sated between the sheets with my new favorite client. Sean would definitely let me out of the contract if I called him, but I found myself flopping onto my chair. Arms crossed, legs spread wide, I glared as the two men approached.

Callum lightly touched Landon's back, brushing his lips over Landon's temple before whispering, "I didn't mean for things to unfold like this."

A strange ache lanced through my chest at their comfortable affection. Perhaps it was nothing more than a bit of jealousy over Callum—definitely not Landon. That kid could go fuck himself with a twelve-inch dildo.

Actually, knowing him, he was probably a size queen.

A fist or baseball bat would be better.

Something big enough to make him cry at the very least and not because it felt good.

Callum pulled out the extra chair, and Landon didn't reply to his quiet words or take his hungry eyes off me as he sat.

My abs tightened as blood once more seeped back into my groin after having fled at the first sight of Landon. I couldn't deny the kid was hot as fuck and still roused my body to life after all these years, but I did not want him.

Hard. Fucking. Stop.

Continuing to lie to myself, I pushed against memories of Landon's smile that used to light up my insides. Make me feel wanted. Appreciated. How he'd laughed at every stupid joke I told in the hopes he would forget for a few brief moments how his busy parents ignored him.

How he'd curl up beside me on the couch while we played X-box. The way he'd let me win but claimed he didn't. Landon had always put me first.

Until that fateful night he didn't.

Jaw clenched, I glanced between the two of them, trying to figure shit out. Until Callum started talking, I was in the dark.

He settled uneasily across the table from me.

"Gentlemen?" Our waiter appeared like a wraith, his voice shaky as though he approached shark-infested waters. Guess he'd been privy to our little confrontation on the dance floor.

"Three shots of the strongest alcohol you've got," I muttered without looking at him, my stare solely on the man who'd hired me—and wouldn't meet my gaze. Shady, hot-as-hell fucker.

"Right away, sir." The waiter scurried off, leaving the three of us in silence.

Callum and Landon shared a long moment of eye contact as though having an entire conversation between them without voicing a word. Same as Landon and I had done once upon a time.

I hated surprises, and these two were more than friends, that was for damned sure. Toss in the suspicion I was being used again, and my defenses rose to towering heights, self-preservation ready to boot a body off the ledge. Landon's. Callum's. I didn't care. I just wanted answers about what the fuck was going on.

"Start talking," I demanded, my tone hard.

"It's a long story," Callum finally said, the words hesitant as though he searched for them.

"Callum is the most unselfish man I know," Landon cut in, laying his hand on his friend's or perhaps lover's forearm as though offering comfort, "so I'm assuming his bringing you here was for my benefit."

The teenager turned gorgeous man shifted his amber eyes back on me at Callum's nod, and fuck my dick for liking his attention with no less potency than when we'd been kids.

I ground my teeth over the unwanted lust, my ears expecting what had been texted dozens of times.

"I've been wanting this chance to talk to you. To apologize," Landon murmured.

And there it was.

Luckily for Landon, the waiter reappeared with my drinks. He sat one in front of Callum first, and I shook my head.

"Nope. They're all mine." I tapped the table top with a firm fingertip where the glasses rightfully belonged.

The waiter's hands shook as he placed the first shot in front of me before adding the others alongside.

"Leave," I ordered the second he straightened.

Once more, he scurried off, and I tipped all three drinks back one after the other, losing myself in the burn for a few seconds of relief from my surroundings.

Since there was no blocking Landon with a swipe of my fingertip over my cell phone this time around, I settled in my chair in the same bring it pose, arms once more crossed as though confident I could take on the world when I knew damned well a lot of good and bad memories I'd tried to erase from my brain were about to be stirred up.

But first.

I stared Landon down, not about to let him get another word in until I had my say. The little selfish fucker needed to know what his actions had caused.

"It's one thing to be betrayed by an enemy," I all but hissed, "but by your best friend? You have no idea the consequences of your choice to turn your back on me, Landon. None. Your parents had taken me in. Promised me a college education. I'd hit the jackpot as a foster kid, and I'd done everything to not fuck shit up—and you did it with a temper tantrum that brought your father running to the supposed rescue. You ruined my fucking life, Landon. There's no forgiveness for that shit."

"I was a child." He leaned forward as though sensing I would rather stand up and get the fuck out of there than listen to his excuses. "Selfish and spoiled."

"Damned right you were!" If fire could shoot from my eyes, he'd have burst into flames. The heat inside me rose to the boiling point, and I was about to blow. "You fucked me over, and there's nothing you can do to fix that shit. Not a goddamned thing!"

I shoved up from my chair, knocking it over in my haste, but I didn't bother righting it. Stomach a rock, I spun away from the two men and strode away with heavy footsteps, my flip-flops making a stupid clapping sound when I'd rather they portray the harsh, heavy thuds in my chest.

Five days in paradise.

A snort huffed from my nose as I strode into the hotel and smashed the elevator's up button.

More like a sure five days of hell.

How the fuck would I get out of the contract without telling Sean or Micah about the event that led to my demise? I'd attempted to leave that shit buried where it belonged, out of sight, out of mind, even though Landon had always managed to rouse memories.

And he'd done so again, only this time in person where the mere sight of him brought all the good, the bad, and the ugly, crashing back down atop me.

The last thing I wanted to do was dredge up more drama. I'd rather be dancing with who I'd thought would've been a sure, exceptionally satisfying fuck.

But he'd orchestrated this whole affair.

So, stay or go?

Allow this useless, latest attempt at resolution while basking in the sun and diving into salt water, or head home to a cold, rainy New England, doubly bitter?

Seeing as how I had a room to myself, a balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, and gorgeous weather, I wasn't going to make a hasty decision that would leave more than just Landon disappointed.

Keeping my bosses happy and pleasing the client were the rules I lived by.

But fuck me, neither sounded appealing at that moment.

I chose to reflect on my options, and the sliding glass door leading outside my suite into the ocean-scented air offered me privacy. A few small shot bottles in hand from the suite's mini bar, and I closed myself off from everyone and everything but that which weighed on my mind: the dredging up of my past and that latest attempt at extortion.

I also had to decide what the hell to do with my client now that he'd fucked up our vacation I'd once upon a time been ready to take advantage of.

Even worse?

My desperation for Landon hadn't eased one fucking bit. I feared what self-preservation I'd built with the distance between us the past fifteen years would crumble at his feet, leaving me vulnerable and on a second crash course for heartache.