Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WESTON
I stepped back into our cozy cabin, the cool morning air still clinging to my skin like a ghostly embrace. My eyes immediately landed on Easton, who was just beginning to stir.
He stretched languidly under the crisp white sheets, his dark hair tousled and his hazel eyes blinking away the remnants of sleep. My breath caught in my throat as he smiled up at me, that soft, sleepy smile that always made my heart skip a beat.
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. “Come back to bed? It’s still early.”
I hesitated, my heart aching at the sight of him looking so inviting, so utterly perfect. God, how I wanted to crawl back under those sheets and wrap myself around him. But I couldn’t. I had to stick to the plan.
“Actually,” I said, forcing a casual tone that felt entirely wrong, “I was thinking we should make the most of our last day on the ship. You know, go out with a bang and all that.”
His brow furrowed slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “Oh,” he said, sitting up slowly. “I thought... never mind. Yeah, that sounds good.”
I watched as he fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand, my chest tightening with each passing second. This was for the best, I told myself. “Great,” I said, plastering on a grin that felt more like a grimace. “Why don’t you grab a shower, and I’ll order us some breakfast?”
He nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Okay, sure. Thanks.”
As he padded towards the bathroom, I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on the gentle slope of his back, his pert little ass. I wanted to memorize every detail, knowing that soon, this would all be just a bittersweet memory.
The sound of the shower starting up snapped me out of my thoughts. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This was going to be harder than I thought, but I had to do it. For the sake of our friendship. Even if it meant breaking my own heart in the process.
The sun beat down mercilessly as we made our way to the pool deck. The air was thick with the scent of sunscreen and chlorine, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional splash. I squinted against the glare, scanning the crowd for an empty spot.
“Over there,” Easton pointed, his voice barely audible above the din. I followed his gaze to a pair of unoccupied lounge chairs near the bar.
As we settled in, I couldn’t help but notice how the sunlight caught in his dark hair, picking up the colors of his natural highlights. He looked so sweet, so beautiful, it made my chest ache.
“Want a drink?” I asked, desperate for a distraction.
He shook his head with a smile, sliding his book from his bag. “I’m good, thanks.”
I nodded, my eyes drifting back to the crowd. That’s when I saw him—Tanner, leaning against the bar with a cocky grin plastered on his face. My stomach twisted, but I knew what I had to do.
“Hey, East,” I said, nudging him gently. “Isn’t that Tanner over there?”
Easton looked up from his book, confusion evident in his hazel eyes. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “Maybe you should go talk to him.”
His brow furrowed, his book forgotten in his lap. “What? Why would I do that? You acted like you didn’t like him.”
“I know, but...” I trailed off, searching for the right words. “He seems interested in you. Maybe it’s worth giving him a chance?”
Easton stared at me, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment. “West, what’s going on? Why are you suddenly pushing me towards Tanner?”
I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I just thought... maybe you’d hit it off, that’s all.” But inside, my heart was screaming, begging me to take it all back, to tell him how I really felt. Instead, I clenched my jaw and waited for his response, praying I was doing the right thing.
I forced a smile, trying to ignore the way my heart was twisting painfully in my chest. “Come on, East. You’re such a romantic at heart. This could be your chance to find someone special.” I aimed for nonchalance, but my voice sounded strained even to my own ears.
Easton’s eyes widened behind his black-framed glasses, hurt and confusion evident in their hazel depths. He set his book aside, his slender fingers trembling slightly. “I don’t understand. What about... us? This past week, I thought...” He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “What did it mean to you?”
I felt like I was drowning, struggling to breathe as I looked at the man I had fallen in love with, knowing I was about to break his heart—and mine along with it. I steeled myself, reciting the line I’d rehearsed in my head a hundred times. “East, it was just a vacation fling. You know how these things go.”
The words tasted like ash in my mouth, each one a betrayal of the truth. I wanted to reach out, to pull him close and tell him it was all a lie, that he meant everything to me. But I held back, my hands clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms.
“A fling?” Easton repeated, his voice cracking. “Is that really all it was to you?”
I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to take it back, to tell him the truth. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk ruining our friendship, couldn’t bear the thought of losing him completely if things went wrong.
So I sat there, silent and aching, as I watched the light dim in his eyes, knowing I was the cause of his pain. His face crumpled, and I felt my heart shatter. He stood up abruptly, his movements stiff and unnatural. “Maybe I will go talk to Tanner. Wouldn’t want to waste either one of our time,” he mumbled, not meeting my eyes.
As he walked away, each step felt like a dagger twisting in my chest. I wanted to call out, to stop him, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I watched him go, feeling hollow and lost.
Easton approached Tanner at the bar, his shoulders hunched, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, even as the sight tore me apart. “This is the right thing to do,” I whispered to myself, trying to believe it. “He deserves someone who can love him and not fuck it all up.”
But as I watched Tanner lean in, saying something that made Easton force a weak smile, every instinct in me screamed to go over there, to pull Easton away, to tell Tanner to go fuck himself because Easton was mine.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Why can’t I just...” I trailed off, the words dying on my lips as Easton glanced back at me, his hazel eyes filled with pain. In that moment, I knew I’d just let go of the best thing to ever happen to me.
The rest of the day dragged on like a bad hangover, the ship’s festive atmosphere a jarring contrast to the heaviness in my chest. Easton moved through the crowds like a ghost, his usual warmth replaced by a cold distance that felt worse than any physical pain.
“Hey, East,” I tried, catching up to him by the railing. “Want to grab one last fruity drink before we have to pack?”
He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “I’m good, thanks.”
I swallowed hard, searching for something, anything to bridge the chasm I’d created. “Come on, it’s our last day. We should make the most of it, right?”
His lips tightened. “Isn’t that what this whole week was about? Making the most of it?”
His words stung, and I flinched. “I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s fine, Weston,” he cut me off, his voice flat. “I get it. Just a vacation fling, right?”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that it meant everything to me, but fear kept the words locked away. Instead, I watched him walk away, feeling like I was losing a piece of myself with every step he took.
Before I knew it, it was the next morning and we were on the plane home, the hum of the engines a dull backdrop to the deafening silence between us. I kept stealing glances at Easton, taking in his profile illuminated by the reading light. He had his nose buried in a book, but I could tell he wasn’t really reading—his eyes weren’t moving across the page.
“Good book?” I asked lamely, desperate to hear his voice.
He nodded without looking up. “Mhm.”
I sighed, leaning back in my seat. “Listen, East, about what happened?—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted, finally meeting my gaze. The hurt in his eyes made my breath catch. “You don’t have to explain. It was just a vacation thing, I understand.”
But he didn’t understand. How could he, when I couldn’t even understand myself? I wanted to tell him that every moment with him felt like coming home, that the thought of letting him go was tearing me apart. Instead, I just nodded, the words I longed to say dying on my tongue.
As the plane descended, I found myself wishing we could stay in the air forever, suspended in this moment before reality came crashing back. Because I knew once we landed, everything would change, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face a world where Easton and I were anything less than what we’d been this past week.
The plane touched down with a jolt, and suddenly we were thrust back into the real world. As we disembarked and made our way through the crowded airport, I watched him walk a few steps ahead of me, his shoulders hunched, and his gaze fixed on the ground. Each step he took felt like a mile stretching between us.
“Hey, East,” I called out, quickening my pace to catch up. “Want to grab a coffee before we head out?”
He glanced back at me, his hazel eyes unreadable behind his glasses. “Nah, I’m pretty tired. I think I just want to head home.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the ache in my chest. “Right, of course. Let me help you with your bag.”
As I reached for his suitcase, but he brushed my hand away. “I’ve got it. Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the din of the airport.
We made our way to the long-term parking area in silence, the tension between us palpable. As we climbed into my car, my mind turned to thoughts of how different things had been just a week ago, when we’d been laughing and joking on our way to the cruise ship.
My attempts at small talk were met with monosyllabic responses and we lapsed into an awkward silence. I watched the familiar landscapes, feeling a growing sense of dread with each mile that brought us closer to Easton’s apartment.
When we finally pulled up outside his building, I felt a pang of longing so intense it nearly took my breath away. He paused with his hand on the door handle.
“Well,” he said, turning to me with a small, forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I guess this is it.”
I wanted to reach out, to pull him back into the car and tell him that this wasn’t it, that it could never be it for us. Instead, I heard myself say, “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks for... everything.”
He nodded, his eyes shimmering with something that looked suspiciously like unshed tears. “Bye, West,” he said quietly, then slipped out of the car before I could respond.
I watched him disappear into his building, feeling as though a vital part of me had just walked away. As the Uber pulled away from the curb, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, closing my eyes against the sting of tears.
“Everything okay, buddy?” the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
I forced a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Yeah,” I lied, my voice rough. “Everything’s fine.”