Page 50 of Plotting Summer

Tristan picks up his bag. “I’ll be like five minutes.” He stops at the bathroom door and glances over his shoulder. “Oh, and I was thinking you should stay the night. We have the room until tomorrow, so like you said earlier, it seems a shame for neither of us to use it. You can even invite Jane if you want.”

The sheer rollercoaster of emotions of the last ten seconds leaves me reeling, but I miraculously manage a smile of sorts. “If you’re sure you don’t want to stay. Instead of me, I mean.”

“I’ve got to win back those points you docked me somehow.” With one more heart-pattering smile, he disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door.

I head out to the patio to text Jane and possibly take a quick dip in the pool. After my completely inaccurate presumption that Tristan was asking me to spend the night with him, I need to cool myself down. Not that I would have stayed. And not that he ever would have asked, but with the way my body is flooded with nerves and anticipation, it turns out I’m not quite as efficient at differentiating between fantasy and reality as I’d thought. Though I suppose, for one brief moment, the two morphed together in an extremely unhelpful test of my friend zone boundaries. And I failed. Miserably.

Bright morning light drifts in from the patio, but I refuse to move. The bed has chosen me as its own, and with the way it embraces my entire body, I’m not sure a hurricane making landfall can separate us.

“Come on, sleepy head,” Jane says, bustling around the room as if the sunlight is contagious. “I have to get to work. And you just got a text.” I peek an eye open, and she’s holding my phone with a smile on her face. “It’s from Tristan.”

“You’re just trying to get me up,” I say, closing my eye again.

“He wrote: ‘On a scale of 1 to 10, how comfortable was that bed last night?’” She sends me a wide-eyed grin, then gives a soft hum. “How should I respond? Maybe … ‘It would have been a lot more comfortable with you—” I’m up before she can finish, snatching my phone from her.

To my surprise, Tristan actually did text. And he did ask how the bed was. I’m a little tempted to reply along the lines of what Jane says, just to be funny and not at all because I mean it. Okay, I’d mean it a little which is why I’ll go a different route.

CAPRI

0 out of 10. Do not recommend.

You should count yourself fortunate you didn’t have to sleep in that heavenly embrace that might have just given me the best night’s rest of my life.

Three dots appear, and my heart lifts in anticipation.

TRISTAN

That does sound terrible. It’s a good thing I left because for a minute there I was tempted not to.

I suppress my unfounded hopes before they even have a chance to take hold. He was way too eager to leave last night for him to mean that comment in any way other than that he wishes he would have stayed the night himself. Without me.

“He loves you,” Jane says, grinning.

My laugh sounds tired and empty. “With how fast he bolted after dinner, I’m pretty confident he doesn’t. Which is fine considering my forthcoming confession.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t wait a little longer to tell him? Saturday is so soon, and I feel like you two are right on the cusp of something wonderful.”

Oh, sweet Jane and her hopelessly romantic heart. A heart I usually share with her, but not in this situation. “We agreed to the redefining-the-island thing until I found my keys.”

“And you haven’t found them.”

“But he’s bringing me home so I can get my other keys.”

“Because he’s Tristan and Tristan’s a nice guy.”

“Or because he needs an excuse to end the whole thing.”

Jane sighs. “I think you’re wrong, but I don’t have time to argue. I’ve got to get you back to Tala's so I can get to work.” She pushes me toward the bathroom. “And you need to brush that hair in case we manage another Presley James sighting on our way out. Or an encounter with Noah Belacourt. I’d gladly take either.”

I grab the brush from the counter and start working through my tangled strands. “Noah Belacourt’s on your list of potential dates, isn’t he?”

“Of course. And I have high hopes, considering the billionaire trope is one of my favorites.” I’m honestly not sure which trope isn’t her favorite—secret baby, possibly? “I just have to figure out how to make it happen.”

“Ah! Speaking of making things happen, my editor sent my developmental edits.”

“So when will I have the final copy in my hands?” Unlike Tala, Jane doesn’t like reading the book until it’s ready for print. Years ago, she read an early draft of my third book before I had to remove an entire character she’d grown attached to. She’s refused to read anything but the completed versions since. Which, considering my upcoming edits, is probably a good standard to keep. There are going to be a lot of changes, and I still have to have it proofread after that. So it'll still be a while.

“The moment it's done.”