Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I woke up alone.

My head pounded like someone had shaken me so hard it’d scrambled my brain, and I groaned against the pain, squeezing my eyes tight before I was brave enough to creak them open. It had to be early, judging by the soft little bit of light coming through our one and only window in the cabin, but Joel wasn’t here.

I had no idea if he left for work already or if he ever came home at all.

Slowly, I lifted myself onto my palms, scooting back until I could rest against the headboard. After a good scrub of my hands through my hair, I steeled a breath and fought the headache long enough to make it to the bathroom.

Joel’s wet swim trunks were draped over the towel rack.

I sighed as I stared at them from the toilet, wondering how I had passed out so hard. Had he slept here? Did he come in with just enough time to change and leave again?

I needed to find him, to talk to him, and yet, when I popped an Advil and made my way back to the bed, the first thing I did was reach for my phone and pull up Theo’s text thread.

There were no new messages.

Still, I stared at that thread, at those two innocent texts he’d sent after that first night I’d given him my number.

And then his words from last night filtered in through the fogginess in my head.

For some impossible reason I cannot fathom, I care for you.

I shivered at the memory of his voice, his eyes, his hand on my cheek. I’d spent the night in a mixture of dreams and nightmares, and in all of them, he was present.

My stomach tightened so fiercely I doubled over in bed, and I rolled onto one side, shaking my head as question after question assaulted me. Theo Whitman was a billionaire CEO of a Fortune 100 company. He was one of the richest men in the world. He was devastatingly handsome and could easily have any woman he wanted with just a snap of his finger.

Why was I even on his radar at all?

And why did I love that I was?

When he looked at me, my body reacted in a way that was foreign and exciting, fresh and new and terrifying. I wondered what it would be like, to be his, to have walked up to that party last night and been hauled up over his shoulders and back downstairs as soon as he saw me. What would he do to me if he had me to himself?

If we spent a night together?

I groaned, covering my face with my pillow to snuff the noise. “You have a boyfriend, Aspen,” I reminded myself, the words muffled where they echoed back to me.

That reminder made my stomach upset for a completely different reason.

I pulled the pillow from my face, staring up at the ceiling as I replayed the scene at the pool. Joel had tossed my feelings aside so easily, and more than that, he’d chosen partying over making things right with me.

I needed to talk to him.

But I wanted to talk to Theo.

Everything in my body ached to go up on the main deck, seek him out, demand he explain what he meant by everything he said last night. I wanted him to tell me I imagined it. I wanted him to laugh at the audacity and call me crazy — because that’s how I felt — absolutely, certifiably insane. Silly little girl, why would I have any interest in you?

But perhaps more than anything?

I wanted him to tell me more.

I wanted him to tell me he wanted me, he needed me, he couldn’t stop thinking about me. I wanted to know his dreams were filled with me, that this wasn’t all in my head, that the electricity I felt when he was near was coursing through his veins, too.

I wanted to be the source of every desire Theo Whitman had.

My body awakened to the thought, nipples hardening as I squeezed my thighs together against the ache between my legs. My breath grew shallower the more I thought about it — about his sultry eyes, his cocky smirk, his broad shoulders in his fitted suit.

I slipped a hand under my panties, shivering at the cool touch against my core.

When I closed my eyes, I saw Theo’s face.

And I pretended my hand was his.

It’s kept me up at night, Aspen.

I’ve had one question haunting me.

I couldn’t bite back the moan when one finger slipped inside me, and that seemed to jolt me back to reality.

My eyes shot open, and I ripped my hand from my panties, sitting up quickly with a frustrated groan.

What is happening to me?

I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or scream or give in to my desire. No one would know. Joel was at work, Theo wasn’t here, of course. I was alone. Would it be so bad to get lost in a little fantasy for a few moments?

Yes, Aspen, seeing as how that fantasy is not about your BOYFRIEND.

I felt like a meteor spiraling in space, like a bottle teetering dangerously on a choppy sea, safe for now but just one wrong wave away from drowning.

So, I reached for my phone again, and this time, I called the one person I hoped could ground me.

“Hey, big sis, how’s life of the rich and famous?”

As soon as Juniper’s voice was on the line, my eyes welled with tears again. “It’s… interesting,” I answered. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Busy. Tired.” She yawned, and it was then that I realized it was the middle of the night there. “I was actually sleeping, though. I think you forgot about the time difference.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry sis.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” She paused. “Er, today now, I guess. But maybe I can call you later this week and we can catch up?”

My heart sank, and a million responses screamed at me in my head.

No, I need to talk to you now.

I need someone to tell me what to do.

I need someone to help me figure out the mess inside my head.

“Sure,” I said instead, sighing with the resignation.

Juniper was silent for a moment. “Everything okay?”

God, no.

“Mm-hmm.” I sighed, shaking my head as I forced a smile even though she couldn’t see it. “Just needed to hear your voice.”

“Aww, you big softie. I’ll give you a call later this week. Okay?”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

“Until then, give Joel my love, and for Pete’s sake, sis, have some fun. You sound like you’re wound up tighter than a virgin’s asshole over there.”

“Juniper!”

“Oh, get over it. I’m nineteen.”

I chuckled a little at that. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. I’m going back to sleep. You go have some fun ,” she said again, and then the line cut out, and I was alone with my thoughts again.

What a dangerous place to be.

***

Joel walked through the cabin door at 8:04 that evening.

I was still in bed, reading a book, which I laid flat on the comforter at the sight of him. His eyes were red and puffy, along with his nose, as if he’d been crying too. His dark hair was sticking up this way and that, his shoulders slumped as he dug into his pockets and emptied everything out of them, dumping his wallet and keys and such on the dresser.

He looked as tired and worn and sad as I felt.

“Hi,” I said tentatively.

I expected him to jump into bed and throw himself on me. I expected an apology, an explanation, a promise to never do it again. I expected a flurry of kisses, his arms encompassing me, his forehead pressed to mine. That was always how it went. We were like any couple — we had our fights, but we always came around, and making up was the best part.

A night with just the two of us, connected in the most intimate way we could be — that was exactly what I needed to get my mind off my stupid Theo fantasies.

Joel’s eyes were flat when they met mine. “Hi.”

I swallowed. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” he said on a sigh. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Can we talk first?”

“Dammit, Aspen, I’m tired , okay? It’s been raining, I don’t feel good, and I had a long day on the boat. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

He seemed exhausted just from having said the words, the deep rumble of his voice etched with weariness.

Remorse was nowhere to be found.

I frowned, closing my book and setting it aside before I stood and rounded the bed to where he was. “Are you not even sorry about what happened last night?”

“About your overreaction to me having fun? No.”

“Joel…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose on a sigh. “Look, I really don’t feel well. I’m not myself right now.”

“Hungover?”

He glared. “No, like I actually feel sick, but thanks for that.” He shook his head, stripping his shirt overhead. “I’m getting in the shower. We can talk tomorrow.”

“I’d rather talk tonight.”

“Well, I’d rather not.”

With that, he slammed the bathroom door to seal his point.

I was fuming while he was in the shower, pacing back and forth, planning out everything I would say when he got out. Except that when he actually did, I saw it — really saw it — how long and worn his face was, how the puffiness and redness wasn’t from crying, how just the sight of him made me feel achy in my bones.

He really was sick, and as much as I wanted to talk, I wanted him to be okay even more.

“Do you need anything?” I asked.

“Just sleep. I’ll be okay.”

I nodded. “Alright. Mind if I keep my lamp on to read?”

“Do whatever you want.”

He crawled into bed with a cough and a wince, then he rolled onto one side, facing away from me as he turned out the light on his side of the bed. He didn’t say goodnight, didn’t give me a kiss, and within minutes, he was snoring.

I sighed, crawling back into bed next to him and leaning against the headboard.

I’d spent nearly the entire day in the room, save for the few times I snuck out to get food, and I was beginning to wonder if it had even been a day at all. It was one of those weird stretches of time that could have been a dream. I felt antsy, like I needed to get out, but my body protested, keeping me firmly in bed.

I picked up my book again, but I couldn’t focus. I read the same page three times before I conceded, shutting it altogether and deciding I should just get to bed early, too.

Just as I was turning out the lamp, my phone buzzed with a text…from Theo.

My heart lurched into my throat at the sight of his name on my phone.

I glanced at Joel, who was still sound asleep, and then unplugged my phone from the charger and settled into the sheets, sliding my thumb across the screen until the text opened.

How are you feeling? I didn’t see you all day.

Butterflies.

A stampede of furious, stir-crazy butterflies.

I bit my lip, heart thundering a little louder in my chest.

I’m okay. It was a weird day. How are you?

I would be better if I could have seen you on deck.

I pressed the phone into my chest, rolling my eyes up to the ceiling until they closed altogether. I stifled the little squeal threatening to break loose from my throat, and after a breath, I looked back at the screen just in time for another text to come through.

I hope I didn’t scare you last night.

I swallowed, replaying the scene for the one-hundredth time that day. Even in the darkness, I could picture his sterling eyes fixed on mine.

Not scared. Surprised, maybe.

Good surprise?

Joel stirred next to me, and I panicked, throwing the phone under the covers until he settled again. Guilt sank into my stomach, and when I lifted the phone again, I typed and erased, typed and erased until another text came through.

I have a terrible habit of making you uncomfortable, don’t I, Miss Dawn?

He sent the text with a smirky emoji, and I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile blooming on my lips.

I have a terrible suspicion you like it.

Theo sent back a wink emoji, and then the little dots were bouncing again, letting me know he was typing.

Meet me tomorrow morning. I want to show you something.

I bit my lip, glancing at Joel with the pit growing deeper and darker in my stomach.

My phone vibrated again.

I won’t take no for an answer.

I swallowed, hating the way my body betrayed me, the way it came to life like those text messages were Dr. Frankenstein’s volts of electricity, and I was the monster he created.

Goodnight, Mr. Whitman.

Goodnight, Miss Dawn .