Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

RYLEE

I woke up the next morning feeling a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration and nausea. The night before had been one for the books, and despite the pounding in my head, I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't decide if it was more fun with Simon there or if I would have had just as much fun without him. I was thinking it was the first. He had been so relaxed and attentive and I just really liked having him near.

I rolled over in bed and peered up. There he was, all six three of him crammed into a top bunk, his feet hanging off the end. He was sprawled out on his back with his arms crossed over his chest like a pharaoh in a tomb, and surprisingly, he looked comfortable. A soft snore escaped him as he slept on, oblivious to the world.

Quietly, I slipped from my bunk and tiptoed across the room to the bathroom, careful not to disturb the others. As I splashed cold water on my face, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh at how disheveled I looked. My hair was a tangled mess and mascara smudged around my eyes. But somehow, I didn't care.

I returned back to the room and found Claire was just slipping on her shoes. "Breakfast?" she whispered.

I nodded. We slipped out of the room quietly to check out the continental breakfast with one of the other girls from our group.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Claire as we walked down the hall.

"Like a truck ran over me."

I giggled softly. "Me too."

"Let's hope there is a good breakfast." She sighed.

Unfortunately, the spread was less than impressive—acidic coffee, burnt toast, yogurt, and some fruit that looked like it had seen better days. But after the night we'd had, we all needed to get something in our stomachs. We filled our plates and found a table in the common room to settle down to eat. The coffee was harsh on my stomach, and the toast wasn't much better, but I was riding the high of my trip miraculously being saved by Simon.

He was my knight in shining armor. A damn good-looking one at that and an even better kisser.

"So, you and Simon are quite the couple," Claire teased.

I choked on a piece of toast, coughing violently as Claire thumped my back. "What are you talking about?" I finally managed to splutter, my cheeks flushing.

"Oh, come on." She rolled her eyes, "I saw the two of you last night. The flirting, the way he looked at you. It's obvious."

"It's just a little flirting." I tried to dismiss it, but my face was burning and I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Rylee," she sighed, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "It's okay, you know. You're allowed to like him. He's not married, is he?"

"No."

"Involved?" she asked.

"Not that I know of," I replied.

"Are you worried about the scandal?" she asked quietly.

"No. I don't care about that. I just, well, we are pretty different people."

She laughed. "He seemed like he fit in last night. Not everyone is just one thing. Maybe you bring out the good in him."

I shrugged it off. I wasn't interested in trying to define a relationship. I was here to explore and party. "I don't know."

"How long is he staying?" the other girl asked.

"Honestly, I don't know." I laughed.

"You should ask him to hang out for a few more days," Claire suggested. "He's fun."

"I'll ask." I nodded. "But he's got a lot going on. I'm not sure he can."

As we ate, a few of the guys came down. I waited to see if Simon came down but didn't see him. "Is Simon up?" I asked. I didn't think he would sneak out without saying goodbye, but the thought crossed my mind.

"He's passed out and snoring," one of them answered.

"His feet are hanging off the bed," another joked. "I can't believe he actually got up there. I didn't think he was going to do it."

I couldn't help but smile. "I guess he's full of surprises."

"So, what are we doing today?" Claire asked. "We have two days in Ireland."

"Well," I started, nibbling on a piece of hard toast. "After we've woken the sleeping giant, I was thinking we could check out the city, visit some landmarks."

Claire looked at me skeptically. "Landmarks? After last night?"

I shrugged. "Why not? We can have a pint or two in between if we really need it."

"Cultural exploration with occasional beer stops," she joked. "Now that's my kind of sightseeing."

"Forget about the sights and the beers," someone else chimed in. "There's a hurling match later today. We should definitely catch that."

"Oh yes!" Claire clapped her hands in excitement.

"What's hurling?" I asked, feeling clueless.

"Only the best sport ever!" one of the guys exclaimed. "It's like football, hockey, and rugby all mashed together."

"Cool." I nodded. "That sounds fun."

I still wanted to check out some of the typical historical sites while we were in Ireland, but it would be exciting to see some of the local fun. I hoped Simon would be willing to hang out with us, but he might have had his fun walking on the wild side. He had a company to run and a disaster to deal with. He was a good sport sleeping on the shitty bed last night, but I didn't see him willingly doing that again. I prepared myself to say goodbye.

"I'm going to bring Simon some coffee and something to eat," I said, standing up. "I'm sure he's going to be feeling a little rough after the drinking and then the uncomfortable bed."

Claire gave me a knowing look. "You're a good girlfriend," she teased.

"Not his girlfriend," I retorted, but my cheeks flushed anyway. I grabbed a cup of coffee, a piece of toast, and a yogurt and headed back to our room.

I slipped quietly into the room, trying not to wake him abruptly. Simon was on his back, feet still dangling off the end of the bed, snoring just like they said.

I couldn't help but giggle at the sight. The big, bad, immaculately dressed Simon looked like a hot mess. A beautiful hot mess but nothing like the guy that stood in front of the cameras and read a statement without a single hair out of place. Right now, there was a thick chunk of his dark hair sticking straight up. There was stubble on his jaw, something I hadn't seen before now.

He snored again, making me laugh softly, which, of course, woke him up. He blinked at me, groggy and confused, then sat up, smacking his head on the ceiling. He cursed, flopped back down, then rolled over—and promptly fell off the top bunk with a loud thud and a string of foul words.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" I rushed over, laughing despite myself. I helped him to his feet, fussing over him as he rubbed his sore tailbone. I was genuinely worried for him, but I couldn't stop laughing. The man was clumsy. And sexy despite looking so rough. He had taken off his shirt at some point in the night. It was so hard to look at him shirtless and not want him.

"I did that on purpose," he said with a straight face, but I could see right through it.

"Sure, you did. You seem to have a hard time getting out of bed. This is the second time I've seen you fall on your face trying to get out of bed."

He rubbed his face. "What time is it?"

"I think it's after ten."

"Fuck. That is the worst bed ever. I can't believe I actually slept. Although I'm not sure I'm going to be able to walk normally. My back is twisted into a question mark."

"Here, let me help you," I offered, setting down the cup and plate on a nearby chair. I moved behind him, gently placing my hands on his broad back. I could feel him tense under the light touch. I began to rub his back, massaging the knots away. He sighed in relief as my fingers worked around the tensed muscles. There was a silence that filled the room, apart from his occasional groan of comfort or muffled curse when I hit a particularly tight spot.

After a while, he turned around and looked at me with a softness in his eyes. "You're pretty good at this."

"It's not so hard. Does it feel better?"

"So much better," he groaned.

"I brought you some breakfast. It all tastes like shit, but it's better than nothing."

He took the coffee gratefully, nursing it as he sat on my bottom bunk. "I always wanted a bunkbed as a kid," he said, wincing as he shifted to a more comfortable position. "Now, for the life of me, I can't understand why I wanted such a death trap so badly."

I laughed, sitting next to him. "I'm not sure what I would've done if you'd broken something. Probably laughed and then called an ambulance."

He smiled, shaking his head. "What's your plan for today?"

I hesitated, chewing on my cheek. "What's your plan now? Are you going to fly back to Dallas?"

"That was the intention," he said slowly. "I don't want to interrupt your trip more than I already have."

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "Actually, I've been thinking. I'd like you to join me. If you're okay with shabby hostels and whatnot. And maybe another one or two top bunks."

His grin was instant and genuine. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Really?" I felt a surge of relief and excitement.

He shrugged. "It's not like I have anything going on back home," he said sarcastically.

"Definitely not." I laughed. "Do your people know where you are?"

"Nope." He shook his head. "They know I had a family emergency."

"Family emergency?" I teased.

He took a bite of the toast, wincing at the taste. "God, that's awful."

"Sorry."

"I told my team I had an emergency. There's nothing I can do. The PR team we hired to do the cleanup wants me off the cameras. They don't want to keep adding fuel to the fire. So, in a way, this is perfect. I'm off the grid. The cleanup crew, literally and figuratively, are doing their jobs. If a reporter manages to push me into saying something that will be run on a loop, it just keeps the story going. And those reporters know exactly what to say to piss me off."

"They never play fair."

"Never," he agreed, taking another bite of the toast despite his previous grimace. "I suppose I've developed a new respect for toast. Even this bad one."

I suppressed a giggle, eyeing him fondly. "So, what do you say? Ready for more reckless hostel adventures with yours truly? We're going to see a hurling match today and maybe check out some sites. Still want to hang out with us?"

"Yep." he nodded. "Although is hurling like hurling or is this some kind of sport."

I giggled. "Apparently, it's a sport."

"Then I'm on board."

"Great. Let's start by getting you cleaned up."

I grabbed my bath caddy from my suitcase and took his hand, leading him to the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door and turned to him with a mischievous smile. "Shower time is the only alone time we're going to get on this trip, so we'd better make the most of it."

His eyes widened slightly, and then he smiled back, stepping closer. "I like the sound of that."