Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

EASTON

My heart raced as I stepped off the gangplank, the sun-drenched shores of the Bahamas stretching before us like a Caribbean dream. Weston's hand brushed mine as we navigated the crowded dock, sending tingles up my arm.

“East, can you believe this view?” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “It's even better than the brochures.”

I nodded, struggling to find words. The cerulean waters, powdery white sand, and swaying palms were breathtaking, but they paled in comparison to the man beside me. His golden hair caught the sunlight, and his easy smile made my stomach flutter.

“It's beautiful,” I managed, pushing my glasses up. “I can't wait to explore.”

Weston grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “First stop, snorkeling. You ready to see some fish, bookworm?”

I laughed, leaning into his touch. “As long as there are no sharks.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

I snorted. “What do you know about warding off sharks? You’re from Indiana just like me. The only large body of water near there is Lake Michigan. Not any sharks that I’m aware of in the Great Lakes.”

Weston turned to me, looking appropriately offended. “Hey! I have never missed an episode during Shark Week yet. All you have to do is go for their eyes. And if that doesn’t work, a good punch to the nose should do the trick.”

“My apologies. I will never doubt you again, my Knight in Shining… flip flops,” I responded sarcastically as I glanced down at his toes.

“Wise guy!” He wrapped an arm around my neck and yanked me into his side, rubbing his hand over my head like the noogies he used to give me when we were kids.

I managed to wriggle out of his hold, laughing loudly as I smoothed my hair back into place. With all the strange things that had been happening between us, it was good to know some things would never change.

Hours later, we floated in crystal-clear waters, colorful fish darting around us as smooth waves lapped over our heads. I marveled at the vibrant coral reefs below, a whole new world I'd only ever seen on nature shows.

Weston tapped my arm, pointing excitedly at a sea turtle gliding by. His eyes were wide with wonder behind his mask, and I felt a surge of affection. This was Weston in his element—adventurous, carefree, and utterly captivating.

We surfaced, treading water as we caught our breath. He pulled off his mask, grinning from ear to ear. “Did you see that turtle? And those angel fish? This is incredible!”

I nodded, heart full. “It's like being inside a kaleidoscope. I've never seen anything like it.”

His expression softened. “I'm glad we're experiencing this together. There's no one else I'd rather be here with.”

My breath caught. Did he mean that the way I hoped? I pushed the thought away, focusing on the moment. “Me too. This is... perfect.”

As we bobbed up and down, surrounded by beauty and possibility, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Whatever happened next, I'd always have this memory—Weston and me, in our own little paradise.

After a while, we swam lazily towards the shore, emerging from the depths with sun-kissed skin and exuberant smiles. Weston shook his head like a dog, droplets flying from his shaggy hair.

“Race you to the swim-up bar?” he challenged, eyes twinkling.

I laughed. “You know I can't resist a challenge from you.”

We splashed through the shallows, breathless and giddy by the time we reached the bar. I hoisted myself onto a submerged stool, feeling the cool water lapping at my waist.

“One Bahama Mama, please,” I told the bartender, then turned to Weston. “Let me guess, you want something that'll put hair on your chest?”

He smirked. “You know me too well. I'll take a Dark ’n Stormy.”

As we sipped our drinks, his arm brushed against mine, sending a shiver through me despite the warmth. Was it intentional? I couldn't tell.

“So, my little bookworm,” he teased, “is this better than staying cooped up in the ship's library?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide my smile. “I suppose it has its charms. The scenery's not bad.”

“Just 'not bad'?” Weston raised an eyebrow, his hand ghosting along my forearm. “I'm wounded, East.”

My heart raced at his touch. He’d been doing that a lot lately—touching me—and it never failed to give me a thrill. I struggled to form a witty response, distracted by the way the sunlight caught in his eyelashes.

“Well,” I managed, “I guess it's tolerable. With the right company.”

His smile softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw something more in his eyes. But then he was pulling me off the stool, drink still in hand. “Come on,” he said, “I signed us up for a couples' massage. They do it right on the beach.”

I followed, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach at the word couples . It's just part of the act, I reminded myself. But as Weston's fingers intertwined with mine, I couldn't help wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was more to it than that.

I let out a contented sigh. “God, I feel so relaxed. That was the best massage I’ve ever had.”

And it was. Weston had led me to a white canopy set up along a private stretch of beach where two masseurs had spent an hour working out all the tension in our muscles until we were both boneless.

“Me too. I could definitely make that a way of life.”

I laughed. “One of us will just have to win the lottery then.”

“Agreed. But until then, I have another surprise up my sleeve,” he said mysteriously.

“Oh really? I can’t wait to see.”

Thirty minutes later, we were sprawled out in a private cabana, watching the sun sparkle across the water as we ate a delicious lunch of various fruits and cheeses and tiny chicken salad sandwiches.

I bit into a slice of fresh pineapple. “Mmm. This is so good. And I’m not just talking about lunch. This entire day has been perfect. The whole trip, actually.”

“Eh, just trying to show my new hubby a good time,” Weston joked.

I bumped his shoulder with my own. “I’m being serious. I was so disappointed when I found out I wasn’t going to be spending Christmas with my parents, but you made everything better. Just like you always do. I’m glad you talked me into coming on this trip. Thank you.”

His smile looked uncharacteristically bashful, but his eyes gave away how much my words meant to him. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could make you happy.”

I’m always happy when I’m with you,” I admitted quietly.

Weston reached out, brushing his finger along my bottom lip. I stared in fascination as he then licked that finger. “Mmm. Pineapple.”

My breath caught in my throat at the intimate gesture. His eyes locked with mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air between us crackled with tension, and I found myself leaning closer, drawn to him like a magnet.

“East,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for him to continue, but instead, he cleared his throat and looked away. The moment shattered, leaving me dizzy and confused.

“We should, uh, probably head back,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “There's that island cookout tonight, remember?”

I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. “Right. Of course.”

As we made our way back to our cabin to change, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. Weston's touches lingered longer than usual; his gaze more intense. Even when we were alone, away from prying eyes, he seemed reluctant to let go of my hand or move out of my personal space. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

The island cookout was in full swing when we arrived, the beach alive with tiki torches, laughter, and the rhythmic beat of steel drums. The scent of grilled seafood and tropical fruits filled the air, making my mouth water.

“Let's grab some food,” he suggested, his hand resting on the small of my back as he guided me towards the buffet.

We loaded our plates with an array of island delicacies before joining a table of other couples.

As we ate and chatted, I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly Weston played the role of doting husband.

He kept his arm draped over the back of my chair, leaned in close when I spoke, and even fed me a bite of his grilled mahi-mahi. It felt so natural, so right, that I found myself forgetting it was all an act.

“So, how long have you two lovebirds been together?” asked Marjorie, a silver-haired woman seated across from us.

Weston grinned, pulling me closer. “We've known each other since kindergarten, but we only recently realized what was right in front of us all along. Isn't that right, babe?”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my heart fluttered at his words. “Sometimes the best things in life are hiding in plain sight.”

“Ain't that the truth,” chuckled Marjorie's husband, Bob. “We've been married forty-five years, and I still discover new things to love about this one every day.” He patted his wife’s hand affectionately.

“What's your secret?” I asked, genuinely curious. “To making it work for so long?”

Marjorie's eyes twinkled. “Communication, dear. And lots of laughter. Never go to bed angry, and always make time for each other, even when life gets busy.”

“And a healthy sex life doesn't hurt,” Bob added with a wink, making Marjorie swat his arm playfully.

I felt my cheeks heat up, but Weston just laughed, pulling me closer. “Noted,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“What about you two?” someone asked. “Any secrets to share?”

I turned to Weston, my breath catching as I realized how close we were. “Oh, um?—”

“I'd say it's about acceptance,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Loving someone for who they are, not who you want them to be.”

His fingers continued their gentle caress, and I struggled to focus. Was he doing this for show? But no one was even paying attention to us anymore, caught up in their own conversations.

“That's beautiful, West,” I murmured, searching his face for answers.

The firelight danced across his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He'd never looked more captivating. As our eyes met, I made a decision. Whatever this was—real or pretend—I was going to embrace it fully, savoring every moment we had together.

“You know what else is important?” I asked, surprising myself with my boldness. “Taking risks.”

Weston's eyebrows rose, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Oh yeah? What kind of risks did you have in mind, East?”

My heart raced as I leaned in closer, the rest of the world fading away. “I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”

I watched him as he laughed at one of Bob's jokes, his blue eyes dancing with happiness, his lip piercing catching the flickering torchlight. He was breathtaking.

“You two remind me of us when we were young,” Marjorie said softly, catching my gaze. “The way you look at each other... that's real love, honey. Don't ever take it for granted.” I swallowed hard, unable to form a response. If only she knew.

As the night progressed, the alcohol loosened our inhibitions. Weston's touches became bolder, his hand resting on my thigh under the table, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. Each caress sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself leaning into him, craving more.

“Want to take a walk?”

His response was immediate. “Yes.”

The lights faded the further we moved away from the cookout. The gentle rhythm of waves lapping at the shore replaced the noise of the partygoers, filling the night air as we strolled along the moonlit beach. Sand shifted beneath our bare feet, still warm from the day's sun. My mind whirled like the distant tide, a mix of elation and uncertainty.

“Today was...” I trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Amazing?” Weston offered, his hand warm in mine.

I nodded, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, amazing.”

We walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the space between us crackling with unspoken tension. The rum cocktails from dinner had left a pleasant warmth in my chest, lowering my usual inhibitions.

“You know,” Weston said suddenly, his voice husky. “I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About taking risks.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

He stopped walking, turning to face me. The moonlight caught the glint of his lip piercing, drawing my gaze. “Yeah. I think maybe it's time I took one.”

I found myself swaying closer, drawn by an invisible force. “What kind of risk?”

His hand came up, fingers ghosting along my jaw. “This kind,” he whispered.

My breath hitched, anticipation coiling in my stomach. Was this real? Or just another part of our charade? The lines had blurred so much, I couldn't tell anymore. But as I stared into his eyes, seeing a reflection of my own longing, I decided it didn't matter. For once in my life, I was going to stop overthinking and just feel.

Our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly ignited into something more. The world around us faded away—the crash of waves, the distant laughter from the resort, all of it disappeared. There was only Weston, his lips moving against mine with a passion that left me breathless.

I gasped, my hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my knees weak. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body.

My heart raced, threatening to burst from my chest. This was really happening. After years of secret longing, of stealing glances and suppressing my feelings, I was finally kissing my best friend. And he was kissing me back with equal fervor.

As the kiss intensified, my mind struggled to keep up. Thoughts whirled through my head at dizzying speed. What did this mean? Was it just the alcohol? Or could Weston possibly feel the same way I did?

I pulled back slightly, needing to catch my breath. “West,” I panted, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are we doing?”

His forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. “I have no idea,” he murmured. “My head is a jumbled-up mess right now, East. I’m going to need some time to sort it all out, okay?”

I nodded shakily. “Take all the time you need.” I’ll wait for you forever, I thought to myself.