Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Liam

T he view from the deck was stunning. It was a view people wrote poems about or slapped on motivational posters to sell the idea of peace and purpose. Pristine white sand stretched for miles, kissed by waves so gentle it felt like they were trying not to disturb the shoreline. The sun hung low, sinking toward the horizon, staining the sky in ribbons of orange and pink.

It was breathtaking. It was perfect. And tonight, it was where everything would change.

I sat in one of the hotel room’s plush chairs, staring out through the glass doors at the beach, my foot bouncing against the tile floor as my mind raced. I’d decided. Tonight was the night, and I was ready.

Ready to give Jack everything, including my virginity.

The thought shot through me like a jolt of electricity. Nervous? Sure. But more than that, I was determined. I wanted it to be with Jack, and I wanted it to be ours.

It wasn’t just about sex—not anymore. What Jack and I had been doing on camera wasn’t the same as what other creators did. The first time we’d filmed, I thought it would be weird, or awkward. And yeah, at first, it was. But something changed, something I couldn’t put into words. When I rewatched the footage, I saw it. Hell, everyone saw it.

Jack and I weren’t just going through the motions. We were showing our truth.

It was in the way he touched me, in the way he looked at me. And it wasn’t just about turning people on; it was about showing our hearts. That’s what set us apart. It wasn’t porn, and it wasn’t fake. It was raw, real—a love story unfolding in real time for viewers around the globe.

And yeah, okay, maybe it was weird to think about losing my virginity on camera, but the way I saw it, it wasn’t any different from what we’d already been doing. I mean, people watched the Kardashians do every imaginable thing under the sun on camera. What Jack and I were doing—it was practically reality TV, just with less crying, more love, and lots of sex.

I stood up and paced the room, glancing toward the clock above the minibar. Jack wouldn’t be back for at least two hours. He was still with Monfils, probably smoothing things over, assuring the man that Evelyn Van Alen wasn’t some villain ripped from a Dickens novel. I had time to plan.

I stepped onto the deck and leaned on the railing, letting the warm, salt-tinged breeze tickle my skin. I shut my eyes and imagined it: Jack and me, alone, tucked into some secluded cove where the only sounds would be the crackle of a small fire and the waves lapping against the sand. It would be romantic as hell, and it would be ours.

I pictured Jack’s face when I told him. Not just about tonight, but the other thing—the bigger thing.

“I love him,” I whispered.

My chest tightened. I’d been holding on to those words for too long, and I was done waiting. Done letting doubt creep in. Jack deserved to know. And yeah, maybe it was risky to say it on camera, but it felt right. If there was one thing I’d learned recently, it was the best things in life only happened when you put yourself out there. When you stopped playing it safe.

This was my chance to do something real, to say something real. And I wasn’t letting it slip away.

Earlier this morning, before we left for the airport, I checked the FantasyFans dashboard. We now had two thousand eight hundred and sixty-five subscribers. I did the math in my head, just like I’d been doing all week. Over forty thousand dollars in a month.

Forty. Thousand.

My jaw still dropped every time I thought about it. And the wild part? That number was only climbing. Jack and I were building something bigger than either of us realized at the beginning. Something that wasn’t just about the money or the views. People weren’t just watching us—they were connecting with us.

So tonight, I was going to give them something they’d never forget. The plan was already forming in my mind—I’d scout out the perfect spot now, before Jack got back. I’d make sure it was everything it should be: intimate, private, beautiful. Then tonight, when the moment was right, I’d tell him how I felt. And the world would know it, too.

I turned back toward the hotel room, sliding the glass door open and stepping inside. I grabbed my flip-flops and slipped them on, pausing only for a second to glance at the clock again.

Two hours.

Plenty of time.

I grabbed the key card off the desk and headed for the door, my heart pounding as I stepped into the hallway. For the first time in a long time, I knew exactly what I wanted. And I was going to make damn sure it happened.

Tonight, everything would change.

I headed for the hotel lobby, found the bellhop, and asked him to help me find a secluded spot by the beach.

“I’d be happy to,” the man smiled, and pointed at the name tag on his vest. “And my name is Wilfred.”

Wilfred led me down a narrow, winding path away from the resort’s main beach. The sun was high now, reflecting off the waves in a way that made the sand shimmer like crushed diamonds. I tried to keep up as he navigated the uneven trail with ease, chatting about the resort’s amenities and acting like he hadn’t noticed me sweating through my t-shirt.

“Most guests stick to the main beach,” Wilfred said, glancing back with a grin. “But if you know where to look, there are spots no one ever goes. Totally private.”

“Private sounds good,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling the heat creep up my neck. “My friend and I… we’d prefer somewhere, uh, quiet. No interruptions.”

Wilfred stopped walking so suddenly I nearly bumped into him. He turned around and gave me a slow, assessing look, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“You mean… private, private?” he asked, drawing out the words as if testing them.

Before I could answer, he tilted his head, his brow furrowing like something had clicked. Then, without warning, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Wait,” he said, unlocking the screen with a few quick taps. “This wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

He turned the phone toward me, and my heart dropped straight into the sand.

It was open to the FantasyFans page.

A paused video filled the screen—a familiar shot of me, naked, stretched out on my bed. My face turned just enough to the side that there was no mistaking who I was. The thumbnail alone was enough to make me want to crawl into the nearest dune and never emerge.

“Oh my god,” I muttered, my face on fire.

“So it is you!” Wilfred’s mouth fell open before curling into a wide, knowing grin. “Dude, I love your page.”

I gawked at him. “You… what?”

“Yeah!” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You and your boy are great. It’s so real, you know? None of that fake, over-produced crap. Just… honest. You can really feel something happening between the two of you. I mean, respect, man.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. My ears felt like they were melting, and all I could do was stare at the waves in the distance, wishing one would rise up and swallow me whole.

Wilfred laughed and tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. C’mon, I’ve got just the place for you two.”

He led me a little further down the path until it opened up into a small, hidden cove. It was like something out of a postcard—smooth, golden sand bordered by high, craggy rocks covered in thick green vines. Palm trees leaned lazily toward the water, their leaves casting dappled shadows across the sand. The waves lapped gently at the shore, clear turquoise water turning white as it touched the edge.

“Here you go,” Wilfred announced, sweeping his arm like he was unveiling a masterpiece. “No one comes here unless they know about it, and trust me, no one’s gonna bother you.”

I swallowed, feeling heat radiate off my face. “Thanks. This is… perfect.”

Wilfred winked at me again. “So, you two gonna film something?”

“What? Maybe, I…” My voice cracked, betraying me.

He just laughed. “Relax, man. It’s all good. Like I said, I love what you do. Enjoy your stay.”

In the hotel bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror, fingers working through my hair as I tried to replicate whatever magic Lola had done to it back at the salon. She might have been batshit crazy—and she definitely was—but the woman was a genius with scissors and styling gel. Somehow, she’d made me look effortlessly put together, like a guy who belonged in a place like this.

Now, of course, I was just making a mess of it.

I sighed, leaning closer to the mirror, flattening one curl that kept sticking up. I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight, about what I wanted—needed—to tell Jack. It was now or never, right? We were in paradise, just the two of us. If there was ever a moment to admit how I felt, this was it.

And God, I wanted to look perfect for him. “You’ve got this,” I muttered to my reflection.

The sound of the hotel room door opening made me freeze. I heard it shut again, then Jack’s voice calling out, “Liam?”

“Uh, yeah!” I yelled back, scrambling to fix my hair one last time. I stepped out of the bathroom, my pulse in my throat.

Jack was standing by the door, his back to me as he flipped the deadbolt into place. He turned, and the second his eyes landed on me, something shifted. His expression softened—almost like relief. Then, before I could process what was happening, he crossed the room in three strides, took my face in his hands, and kissed me.

My brain short-circuited. Jack. Kissing me.

It wasn’t like him at all. For one thing, the camera wasn’t pointed at us. This was something else entirely—like he couldn’t stop himself, like he’d been waiting for this moment all day. I barely had time to react before he pulled back, his hands lingering on my cheeks.

I blinked at him, breathless. “Uh… hi?”

He grinned, looking almost embarrassed. “Sorry. I just… it’s good to see you. Give me a couple of minutes to change, and we’ll grab dinner. Hotel restaurant okay?”

“Yeah,” I managed, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. “Sounds good.”

Jack squeezed my shoulder as he passed, heading for his suitcase. I stood there, dumbfounded, my fingertips brushing over my lips where his kiss still lingered.

Did Jack feel for me the way I felt for him?