Chapter Twenty-Seven

B urgess paced in hotel reception, the humidity already causing him to sweat through his shirt. They’d been told to meet the zip-lining instructor here at 6:00 a.m. sharp, but apparently, he was the only one with a functioning watch. Neither the instructor nor Tallulah had arrived yet.

And he needed to get a handle on his dark mood real quick or this whole day, this finite chunk of time he’d been given to win back Tallulah, would be a waste. But excuse the hell out of him if being chipper was a challenge the morning after the love of his life had tried to fuck him out of her system. While she’d been attempting to purge him, he’d been so completely lost in the feel of her body, the scent of her skin, the hitch in her voice, he couldn’t see straight. On the verge of the most blinding orgasm of his life... and he’d denied himself the relief his body was still screaming for twelve hours later.

His blue balls were pitch-black at this stage.

So, yeah. He wasn’t so much pacing as he was stomping and occasionally shooting a murderous glance at the front desk guy.

A thought occurred to him and ceased his progress across the polished floor.

Was she backing out?

What if she’d decided not to go zip-lining and cliff diving because he would be there?

Maybe last night, after he’d left, Josephine had spilled the beans that Tallulah and Burgess were the only two participants and she’d balked, not wanting to be alone with him.

Without a second thought, Burgess started walking in the direction of her room. If she didn’t want to spend the day with him, he’d be disappointed—and that was an understatement. But there was no way he’d let Tallulah miss her adventures because of him. Not happening. She’d worked too hard to regain the confidence to try new things and he wasn’t going to be the cause of her taking a step backward. It would kill him to give up the chance to have her to himself all day, but denying her the experiences would be worse.

Burgess reached her door and stood there quietly, listening to definite movement on the other side. She was awake, at least. Maybe just running behind? He raised his hand to knock and dropped it, grimacing at the sweat bleeding through the shirt at the center of his pecs. He looked like he’d just exited the ice after the third period.

Take your shirt off.

It had worked before, right?

Hands on hips, Burgess stepped back from the door and tipped his head back, wondering how his life had come to this. Once again, he felt like one of the Orgasm Donors, taking his shirt off to flex for a woman. He couldn’t deny that stripping from the waist up had worked pretty damn well the first time around, however.

Burgess ran five quick fingers through his hair, gripped the back of his T-shirt collar and pulled—just as the door of Tallulah’s room opened. When Burgess heard the quiet click of the door unlocking and the whoosh of it opening wide, he inwardly sighed, but it was too late to stop. And frankly, when the garment no longer obstructed his view, the mesmerized expression on Tallulah’s face told him he’d done the right thing by getting half naked.

“Good morning,” he said gruffly, his balls giving a hard tug at the sight of her in ripped jean shorts and a bright yellow bikini top, sandals. Granted, she had a loose white tank top over the top of the bathing suit, but the cover-up might as well have been invisible for all the attention he paid it. In an instant, his goal in life was to see Tallulah in that yellow fucking bikini.

“Good m-morning,” she said, staring dazedly at his bare torso, then down at the floor, back at his abdomen, up at the ceiling, before giving up and running the length of him, throat to happy trail. “Why are you taking your clothes off outside my room? If beefcake was on the room service menu, I didn’t order it.”

It physically hurt to laugh at one of her jokes, because it had been so long, but he did, the gruff boom bouncing off the stone facade of the building. “Oh, you should. This place is known for having the best beefcake in town.”

She sniffed. “I don’t like meat, remember?”

“You loved it last night.”

Twin spots of color appeared on her cheeks, her attention—if he wasn’t mistaken—dropping to his crotch, before zipping back upward. “If this is an indication of how the day is going to go, I think it’s best if I skip.”

Tallulah took a step backward, retreating into her room, and the invisible hand of panic wrapped around his jugular, causing him to lunge forward involuntarily, catching the door before she could close it. The move brought them inches apart and for a moment, all he could do was marvel over her skin in the light of the sunrise, the luscious shape of her mouth and the rich brown of her eyes. God, I fucking miss you, Tallulah.

He opened his mouth to apologize for starting off on the wrong foot. In his defense, there were yellow bikini strings sticking out of her denim waistband and they’d pureed his brain. But before he could speak a word, his focus was drawn to the unmade bed—and that’s when he saw the royal blue balled-up sweatshirt. His Bearcats sweatshirt.

She’d brought it to Costa Rica to use as a pillow?

Had she... been using it the whole time they’d been apart?

Burgess swallowed thickly, unable to speak for a solid ten seconds, his throat working and working until it was sore. With relief. Arousal. Appreciation. Shock.

Tallulah followed his line of sight, the color deepening on her cheeks. “It’s the biggest sweatshirt I own. Obviously, it makes the, um... most ideal pillow.”

With his dark mood evaporated, Burgess decided to let Tallulah get away with that bullshit. The sweatshirt meant something. It had to. And so he found a deep down reserve of patience and drew on it with everything he had. “How would you like the day to go, instead, Tallulah?” He struggled against the urge to tuck a piece of stray hair behind her ear, his fingers twitching near the outside of his thigh. “Tell me—and I’ll make it happen.”

Her shoulder rose and fell on a breath, and he could sense her relief that he hadn’t pursued a conversation about his sweatshirt being spotted in her bed. Little did she know he’d be thinking about it nonstop all day. “I don’t need protection anymore,” she said finally. “I’m more... steady now. On my own.”

“I’ll say.” He tilted his head to study her. “A hot air balloon ride and everything.”

Tallulah blinked, lips parting. “You know about that?”

Burgess nodded once. “Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I haven’t been checking in. Constantly. At this point, I’ve offered to buy Chloe nine new harps and the entire skincare section at Sephora.”

She sniffed, rolled a shoulder. “I suppose you think what you said to me, in the hospital... I suppose you think that’s what gave me that final push to start trying new things without a bodyguard. Maybe it was. Or maybe I was just ready, but...” She stopped for a breath. “Calling my family for the first time in years? Hearing their voices? That was all me.”

A bolt turned in his jugular. “You called them.”

“Yes.” Tallulah snuck a look up at him, just a small one, but it was such a powerful glance, because she let him see, albeit briefly, how much that phone call had meant to her. She generously let him share in the relief, and God, he’d never experienced more thankfulness in his life. She’d opened up to him about her family, the postcards, and he’d thrown it in her face. Yet with one flick of her eyes, she’d let him know their past moments together still stood. They hadn’t been erased by his callousness. Not completely.

That didn’t mean the present wasn’t still a giant fucking question mark.

“You’re so fucking brave, Tallulah.” His chest was being sucked inward toward his spine. Gratitude rained down on him, just to be given the chance to say these things to her out loud and have her listen, whether he deserved to be heard or not. “I was dead wrong to imply the postcards meant you aren’t brave or capable. I was the one being a coward that day.”

Without realizing it, Burgess had moved closer, positioning them both in the doorframe, her back pressed to one side, his to the other. He propped a forearm over her head and leaned down, taking a serious chance by rolling their foreheads together, letting her feel the release of breath from his lungs against her lips and hope, hope like hell she knew every ounce of it was for her.

“Burgess . . .”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t finish last night,” she said on a laughing exhale. “It makes me feel like I didn’t, either.”

He wrestled back a groan. “You did. The way you shook—”

“Are you really just trying to make me cave in again?” she interrupted. “If so, that’s fully evil. ”

“I’m not going to lie, I hope you’ll want me again. But mostly...”

When the truth dawned on him, it was so unexpected, he couldn’t get the words out.

Tallulah searched his expression with a line between her brows. “What?”

The back of his neck heated. “I guess, uh... I couldn’t let myself go with you, Tallulah, when your heart wasn’t in it. I don’t... I’ve never been that weak for or with anyone, the way I am with you. It would have hurt to be weak while you were... resisting feeling anything and everything for me. Jesus, I don’t even know if that makes fucking sense.”

For just a beat, she appeared stricken. “It does,” she whispered, tilting her face up.

Bringing their mouths a hairsbreadth apart.

Burgess’s heart started pounding so loudly in his chest they both heard it. Guests probably heard their mangled palpitations from the other side of the resort. Was she going to kiss him? Without him initiating? God, please let it be happening. Let his rambling explanation of why he couldn’t get off last night mean something coherent to her.

His body moved on instinct, pressing her up against the door and she moaned, her hips tilting forward against his, and that was all the encouragement he needed to dip his mouth to her neck and suck a pathway up to her ear, his right hand sliding down the back of her jean shorts. If he got her onto that bed with her legs open, with his balled-up sweatshirt in plain view, nothing was going to stop him from coming this time—

“There you are!”

A familiar voice, belonging to Carlos, shattered the moment like a baseball through a pane of glass. Tallulah lurched back so suddenly, she hit her head on the doorframe and Burgess’s stomach dropped through the floorboards. His right palm was cradling the back of her skull before he knew his own intentions. “Oh, gorgeous,” he murmured, scrutinizing her face for signs of pain. “You okay?”

“I don’t think today is a good idea,” she blurted.

“Why?”

“You’re being so... wonderful. And I’m...” She shut her eyes. “I moved on . I did.”

He ignored the meat cleaver burying in the middle of his chest. “Let me ask you again, how do you want the day to go?”

“Hey, folks!” Carlos was standing beside them, waving both hands. “All aboard the adventure train. Your guide is waiting at reception.”

Tallulah never took her eyes off Burgess and vice versa. “Can we just share the experience without any expectations, maybe? Please?” She wet her lips. “Every time you get close to me, like this, I panic. And the worst part is, you used to be the reason I didn’t panic. You really hurt me, okay?” Her eyes drifted shut. “Obviously, I still have feelings for you, they didn’t just disappear overnight, but I don’t... I—I don’t think we’re getting back together.”

“I’ll just wait over there,” Carlos muttered, zipping away.

Until that moment, Burgess wasn’t sure he’d realized how deeply he’d wounded her. The extent of the damage, the trust he’d mangled like a car wreck. And all at once, he felt like the King Asshole. So arrogant, coming to this wedding thinking he could flash his pecs and win this perfect person back over. After what he’d said?

After so callously severing the bond they’d built?

I’m a complete idiot.

His closeness was hurting her. The damage he’d inflicted must be irreversible.

And the only thing he could think of that was worse than living without Tallulah was hurting her any more than he already had.

It took all of Burgess’s strength to speak, but when he did, he meant every word like he’d chiseled them into a stone tablet. “We can have today with no expectations.”

You can stop panicking now, Tallulah. I’m setting you free.