Page 5 of The Trouble with Flings

“So if it wasn’t something else for you, too,” he says quietly, “or if it was and you’ve been trying to convince yourself it was unremarkable, I’d love to know how that’s going.”

We’re surrounded by people who are mingling and dancing, and I suddenly become aware of our close proximity, the heat radiating off him, and the way my heart has relocated to my throat.

I turn toward the water, buying a moment to breathe, before admitting, “It wasn’t unremarkable.”

“I know,” he says, moving beside me with a grin.

“Don’t be smug about it,” I say, leaning into him, a smile tugging at my lips.

“I’m not. I’m trying to understand what happened.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Why did you go from texting me like you wanted to explore whatever this is between us to blowing me off when I tried to see you?”

Because panic sets in at the thought of a relationship with anyone, and I refuse to lay my heart on the line again. I stare out at the darkness, cradling that truth. When I meet his gaze, I give him the only part of it I can without opening myself up to being hurt. “Because we connected so intensely and easily, even over texts, it felt like the start of a relationship, and I’ve done the whole relationship thing enough to know they’re not for me.”

His brow furrows. “But you were just in a relationship.”

“No, I wasn’t.” I sigh and hope the explanation doesn’t leave him with a bad taste in his mouth. “Mike and I were only dating. We didn’t make any promises to each other. I said ex at the front desk because it was easier than trying to explain the truth. We’d only gone out a few times when he offered me the trip, and who says no to Costa Rica?” I laugh softly. “I was shocked, but hey, if he wanted to give me five nights in this beautiful country, who am I to argue? Little did I know it was part of his bigger plan to make his real ex jealous.”

“Really?” He looks annoyed. “He sounds like a class-A asshole.”

I shrug. “It further justifies why I don’t do relationships.”

“So, you never want to have a significant other? A family of your own?”

“Nope. That’s never been on my bucket list. I bet you do, though. You’ve got white picket fence written all over you. But it’s not just that, Fitz. I like you. We had an unbelievable time together, but I’m thirty-eight and used to being independent, and you’re…?”

“Thirty-three,” he offers.

“Oh. Good for me,” I say cheekily, and we both laugh. “Look, I’m sure you’re pretty set in your own ways, too, and we live very different lives. Mine is in New York, and it revolves around helping kids who have nobody in their corner see a path to a better future, and yours is on an island and includes attending conferences with people who own exotic resorts in foreign countries.”

“It’s not like this is an everyday occurrence for me, and as far as relationships go, not all men are assholes.”

“If you say so, but why complicate things? Do we have to explore with a future in mind? Can’t we just agree to have a good time together? If you think about it, even that’s risky.”

He cocks his head. “What’s risky about enjoying each other’s company?”

“Well, now that I realize our brothers are business partners, and Jace is partners with Maddox, that could get complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to. What we do is none of their business,” he says, like the solution is obvious. “What else do you feel is risky?”

“The whole thing,” I say too fast, then try to explain. “You know how sometimes you get a special dessert and you think it’s the best you’ve ever had? And in those quiet moments when you can’t stop thinking about dessert, that’s the only one that comes to mind? But when you go back and order the exact same things, it’s not quite as spectacular?” When did I develop the inability to stop talking? “What if some things are better left as memories?”

My heart is racing. I can’t believe I admitted that, and I hope he doesn’t think it’s best to leave it in the past. That would be too final. I’m not ready for that kind of final. I don’t even know why I said it.

I look out at the water again, wishing I could take that part back.

“Let me get this straight,” he says after a moment of reflection. “I rocked your world, and you’re afraid nothing else will ever measure up?”

He is infuriatingly honest and maddeningly sure of himself. “I never said you rocked my world.”

“That’s…good to know,” he says with disbelief.

“I didn’t say you didn’t rock my world, either. Where is that champagne when I need it?” I say half teasingly, and look around.

He cocks a brow, grinning.

“Okay, fine,” I relent. “You are devastatingly talented in that arena, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make.”

“Maybe not, but it helps me breathe a little easier,” he teases, and pushes his collar away from his neck.