Chapter 11

11

A t this point, I feel like nothing Stone does should surprise me. And yet here we are riding south in a Jeep he rented—the windows and doors gone and the warm Bahamian air whipping around us—with his hand resting across my thigh while listening to Wild Minds, who are friends with my dad, and singing along. We went from distance and avoidance to this. Some weird version of not quite friends with some very fun, dirty benefits.

Stone is different. He's smiling. He seems lighter. Happier. Just more at peace and calm with himself. I've known him my whole life, and we've spent time together before because of our family connection and my relationship with Forest, but I've never seen him this way. Historically, Stone is a vault. You never truly know what he's thinking, and that's exactly how he designs it. Stone has always been untouchable, with a mysterious and cocky way about him.

But not this version of him. Not right now. I've seen him cocky. I've seen him as a playboy. I've seen him look like he was missing something.

Since we spent most of that day lounging on the beach after we dove off the back of the boat and swam a hundred yards to shore, he's been more like this and less like that. Yesterday, we sailed up to the north part of Harbor Island and spent the day walking around and keeping our heads down. My hair was shoved through one of Stone's baseball hats, and I had on glasses, a T-shirt, and shorts. It was a risk walking out and about, but the local Bahamians didn't pay me much attention, and it was worth it because the island was so beautiful and fun.

We got conch fritters, margaritas, and ice cream, and it was perfect. After that, he took me to a beach with pink sand and we set up on a secluded part of it where we relaxed. We didn't talk a lot, but it wasn't awkward. If anything, it was comfortable. We both had a lot on our minds and simply got lost in the peace of being there. We lay there, his hand playing with mine, our bodies close like we couldn't handle any distance between us even if we didn't fill the void with chatter.

I've thought a lot about what Stone said to me. About being the thorn when I need to be. This time away has brought me the clarity I was seeking about the schedule I've been allowing myself to maintain and the people I've been allowing to run it. It's come at the expense of my health, and when I return to LA, I'm going to make some changes and prioritize myself more than I have.

After that decision, things just felt… better. My soul felt lighter.

Whatever Stone was working out for himself seemed to have the same effect on him because today he's been easygoing and relaxed. Smiling and playful even. He's been teasing me and touching me whenever he can—not just sexually—and I've even gotten him to sing along with me.

When I asked him what we were doing today, he smiled and said, "I want to show you the island."

I have zero complaints. This island might just be the most gorgeous thing I've seen. Eleuthera is a long but very narrow island of sprawling stretches of wild beauty, a rocky shoreline, and thick foliage on either side of the windy two-lane road.

"Are you going to sing along to every song?"

I throw him a side-eye and then shoot across the center console to lick his ear because he both loves and hates it when I do that. He swats me away, and I continue to belt out the lyrics, harmonizing with Jasper Diamond, who is the lead singer of Wild Minds, until the song ends.

Once that's done, I answer him. "Yes. I'm going to sing along to every song. You put it on, I'll sing it. If I don't know the words, I'll make them up as I go. You should invest in noise-canceling headphones if you don't like my voice."

His hand travels up my thigh to my hand, where he starts to toy with my fingers. "I love your voice. I'm not into pop music, but every time one of your songs comes on the radio or I hear someone play one, I always stop to listen."

And just like that, a fleet of butterflies takes flight in my stomach, and my face heats hotter than the sun blazing down on us.

"You do?" It comes out as a squeak.

He rolls his eyes as if I shouldn't be as floored as I am. "Don't look so shocked. You're Tinsley Monroe. You're the world's biggest pop star for a reason. Everyone is obsessed with you."

Now my heart hiccups, but I can't let that happen. No, my heart is on official lockdown. Even if it sort of loves the idea of him being even a little obsessed with me—or my voice.

"Including you?" I play, trying to douse those hiccups with ice water. I lift my sunglasses to the top of my head and bat my eyelashes at him.

He shakes his head, but there is no hiding the smile. It's been glued to his lips all day, and it's a hot look on him. I like this Stone. I mean, I liked the broody, gruff Stone too. Speaking of hot, that Stone is nuclear. But there is something about him like this that not only warms my heart but also lights up my insides.

A girl could easily fall in love with this Stone. Not that I have any plans to.

"How do you know where we're going?" I ask, needing to change the subject.

He throws me an are you seriously asking me that look. "It's a two-lane road heading north and south up the island."

I give him an unamused look. "I'm aware, but you seem as though you know exactly where you're going. Like you have a specific destination in mind."

"Because I do. I spent a lot of my childhood on this island and sailing around it. It's one of my mother's favorites."

"I don't remember Forest doing that."

It slips out, and his lips form a thin line at the mention of his brother, and once again I'm reminded of the exact nature of what we're doing.

"That's because he'd stay with one of our family members whenever we'd go. Sailing wasn't his passion like it was ours."

I don't know what to say in return, so I let it die there and return my gaze to the ocean on my right.

"Okay, look left and then right."

"Huh? Why?"

He slows the Jeep down. "Don't argue with me, woman. Just do it."

And when I do, I freaking gasp. The island is a tiny, narrow rock with hardly any land on either side of the road. On the left is deep, dark, rowdy blue water, and on the right is calm turquoise water. "Holy hell. Stone, what is this?"

"It's called the Glass Window Bridge. It's where the Atlantic and the Bright of Eleuthera meet."

I'm in complete awe, my head swiveling like it's on a spit, back and forth.

We continue on, and a few minutes later, we're pulling off the road on the Atlantic side of the island. He stops the Jeep and pulls up the parking brake. "What are we doing?" I ask, searching around but not seeing much other than a sharp embankment of rocks that drop down into the Atlantic. He comes around and helps me down, holding my hand in his as we start to walk toward the edge of the cliffs overlooking the water.

"You need to do something for me."

"Uh. Okay," I hedge because this doesn't sound good, and the look in his eyes isn't quite selling it.

"I'm going to head down, and when I call up to you, you follow and come down too. Not before."

I squint at him. "Are there going to be clowns jumping out of cakes screaming ‘Happy Birthday' at me?"

"What?" he barks out with a bemused chuckle. "I thought your birthday was in March."

For a moment, I'm thrown that he remembers when my birthday is, but I quickly press on. "It is, but I'm not so big on surprises now because of it. On my seventh birthday, that happened, and the fact that I still remember it and the subsequent terror should be telling."

He smiles and steps into me, pressing his chest to mine as he flips his sunglasses up his forehead and peers down at me with those hot guy green eyes of his and a look that goes straight to my core and hardens my nipples.

"Do I look like the clown type?" He runs a finger up my neck and along the angles of my jaw.

I shiver and swallow hard. "No. But I'm simply saying my legs would stay closed if you were."

He licks the seam of my lips and whispers against me. "No clowns. Do you trust me?"

Do I trust him? Such a simple question with such a profoundly meaningful answer. "Yes. I trust you."

His fingers slide into my hair and then around so he's cupping the back of my neck and staring into my eyes from inches away. "Will I always protect you and keep you safe?"

"Yes. You will." My chest tingles with how fast and easily I answer that, and my limbs feel weak.

A smile curls his lips, and he trickles kisses to my neck, almost as if he's trying to hide it from me. "That's my girl. If you want to walk down together, we can. But it's not what I was hoping for."

Hmm. "You want me to come down after you?"

"Yes." A kiss. A soft, lingering, sweet kiss that essentially plies me with dopamine and endorphins and makes me his… something. I have to be his something because I refuse to be his.

Still…

"Okay. You go down first. Just so I know it's safe."

Another kiss, this one making my toes curl and knees buckle, and then he lets me go and follows a path by a sign that says Queen's Bath. I stand here for a couple of minutes, listening to waves crash and birds squawk overhead. Then I start to get antsy. He never told me how long it would take him to get wherever it is he's going. And why am I up here when he's gone ahead of me?

Another minute goes by, and why hasn't he called up to me? "Fuck this. I'm done waiting."

I take the same path he did, curving around rocks and winding my way closer to the ocean when I pause, staring down at several large, cavernous pools of crystal clear, blue-green water cut into the rocks abutting the dark blue Atlantic. The sun glistens, sparkling off the water and the sand-colored earth, warming everything around me.

I've never seen anything like this before.

My breath catches, and for an untold time, I can't drag my gaze away. The splash and crest of waves as they slam into rock. The aquamarine that you see in photographs but aren't sure actually exists. The fucking serenity and wildness and majesty and the cool way it grips you in the pit of your stomach and refuses to let go.

"Wow."

It slips out, but it's so relevant and yet so limiting and lacking in expression for all this is. Eventually, something else catches my attention, and my gaze drifts down until it catches on Stone sitting on the edge of one of the pools—the one right on the ocean side—staring up at me with an unreadable expression.

"What are you doing?" I cry out to him, pissed that he all but left me up there when there was all of this.

"Waiting on you," he calls back with a beaming smile. "It took you five minutes to find me."

"What?" I snap, careful with my footing in my flip-flops as I wind my way down and around the pools and the wet rock. "I was a little distracted." I pan my hands at everything before me. "You didn't call up to me."

His smile turns lopsided. "I did. Several times. I'm guessing you couldn't hear me and that wasn't the best plan."

"Why couldn't we come down here together? I don't get it."

He laughs and stands, meets me halfway and wraps his arms around my neck before he spins me around to face the incredible view before me. His face rests beside mine, cheek-to-cheek.

"I wanted to see your face when you saw this for the first time, and if I was directly in front of you or behind you, I would have missed it."

My lips part and my eyes blink wide behind my sunglasses. "You…" I swallow, my tongue thick, and my voice equally so. "You wanted to see my face ?"

He kisses my neck, and I feel him shrug against me as if it's not a big thing. "You looked stunningly awed and dazzled. Exactly what I was hoping for. It's beautiful, isn't it? "

"It's incredible."

"It's got nothing on you, Little Rose." His nose brushes up and down my neck until I shiver against him. As it is, I'm biting my lip. Why is he saying these things? What is he trying to do to me? "Let's get you undressed so we can enjoy the water, and I can enjoy you."

"What is this?" I manage, still flabbergasted and overwrought.

"Natural pools carved by centuries of waves pounding the rock. The Atlantic spills over at high tide and then at low tide, like it is now, we're left with these pools. They're heated by the sun and warm like a bath. Hence the name."

"It's not a problem to go in them? I don't want to disturb any natural pools we shouldn't."

"We're not. I'd never do that. But keep your shoes on. The rocks are sharp, and sometimes there are small sea creatures that like to hang out on the bottom."

His hands slip down the front of me and start to undo the button and zipper on my shorts before he slides them down my waist so they pool at my feet. My breath hitches when the dull edges of his thumbnails drag up the outsides of my thighs before they reach my shirt. He grabs it and tugs it up and over my head, leaving me in only my bikini. I step out of my shorts and kick them over to the side so they stay dry.

Behind me, I feel him move as he takes off his shirt. I think I still need a minute—maybe a touch of space after what he said—so I lower myself to the edge of the pool and slip into the water. It's as warm as he said it would be, but not in an unpleasant way. If anything, the heat feels good against my skin, and I close my eyes and sink beneath the surface.

There's a ticking clock in my head. Five more days.

I'm dreading it as much as I'm anxious for it. I've never been a girl who's done anything casually. Nothing in my life is half-assed. I've been forcing myself to see this situation with Stone for exactly what it is and nothing more, but little by little, he's starting to creep into places I can't have him, and it's scaring me.

That ticking clock is becoming a weapon. Something with the potential to hurt or maim when it finally goes off.

Impenetrable arms snake around my waist, and I'm tugged hard and fast into a strong body. He pulls me up and spins me around, but before I can fully catch my breath, his lips fuse with mine, and his hands squeeze my ass beneath the hem of my bikini bottoms.

"Did you think I brought you down here just to show you how pretty it is without seeing how pretty you are in it?" He lifts me up and sets me on the edge of the pool, my feet up to my knees in the water.

"Maybe," I pant, breathless and dizzy. "But I should have known better. You're not expecting to get me naked so you can fuck me out here where anyone can catch us, are you?"

His smirk tickles my neck, which is unfairly sexy and gives him a definite advantage. "Maybe," he says, throwing my word back at me. "But since we got to this island a few days ago, fucking you here is all I've thought about."

"And when our sex tape ends up on Intertainment ?"

"Then you can tell your fans that I made you come at least twice."

"You're trouble. And you're going to get me in trouble."

His hands tickle my ribs just beneath my breasts, and I can't help but laugh as he slides up higher, taking my top with him without a second's thought or hesitation about us getting caught.

"I'm not your trouble, Tinsley, but you're definitely mine." He pulls back and gives me a grin that, straight up, will have me agreeing to anything he wants me to do. His fingers rake through my hair and drag my face back until it's in line with his. "There will be no sex tape. There will be no us getting caught. I'll always protect you, and with that, the last thing I'd ever do is compromise you. You trust me, remember? Trust me now."

The way his eyes sear into mine has me reaching behind my back and undoing the string that's holding my pushed-up top at my neck. Stone makes it so easy to believe. I'm not sure I've ever felt like this with anyone. Safe and protected yet invincible. Hungered and craved yet worshiped. To the point of madness and frenzy. To the point where I'm not sure I ever want my feet to touch the ground again with how high he makes me fly.

It's the craziest thing. I was with a guy who I loved and trusted above nearly everyone else. But then one day, I realized the way he loved me and the way I loved him weren't enough. It wasn't the right kind of love for what we had. I deserved more, and so did he. Forest didn't mean to be stifling or restricting, but he didn't know how to handle what was happening with my life and my career.

He was a regular guy doing the regular college kid thing, which was the complete opposite of me. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to be the girlfriend he wanted me to be because I loved him. I used to believe that love was the solution to all my problems.

Then I came to comprehend that love can sometimes be a Band-Aid to bigger problems that are not only ready to erupt but destroy. Love can be toxic and ultimately what leads you to ruin. I was a hairsbreadth from it on more than one occasion. Trying to be everything for everyone and having nothing left to give to myself.

Sometimes all you can do is save yourself when that happens, and that's what I did.

I left Forest and have spent the last year feeling like I'm trapped in a snow globe.

I don't know what I'm doing here with Stone or why I'm doing it. I only know how being with him makes me feel. Like I'm finally free. Like I'm finally seen. Like I can be me, and he wants all of it. I'm jumping in blindly but fully cognizant of the choice to do so.

This level of trust is something I hardly give anyone.

But I'm trusting Stone.

Outwardly, he has as much to lose as I do. Inwardly, I know my heart is at risk, but it's too late to stop what we're doing, and more importantly, I don't want to.

I undo the string on my bottoms and shift until the fabric follows the same path as my top. My legs spread on the rock, and Stone stares down at my pussy like he's drugged.

"Fuck if you're not the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

He kneels before me and glances up.

"Hands back on the rocks and hold on, my Little Rose. I'm about to make you lose your mind. Or what's left of it." A wink, and then he splits my thighs wider and starts to ring me with his tongue and all I know is him. This . The pleasure and the danger.

He promised he'd always keep me safe and never let anything hurt me. He just never considered he could be the thing that hurts me the most.