Page 47 of I Wish He Would

“I got it.” Hayden sets his phone down, looking pleased. “I just sent a screenshot to you, Austin.”

“Thanks.” I don’t really know what else there is to say when your teammates bombard you in your hotel room and form a game plan you didn’t ask for to see if your friend has feelings for you. But if it actually works, I guess I’ll forever be indebted to them.

“Now can I go to bed?” Cooper yawns.

“Yes, old man.” Hayden stands and claps him on the back. “Good luck, dude,” he calls back to me as they all file out of my room.

Dawson is the last one out. He turns around when he reaches the door. “Are you really in this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is Alyssa someone you want for a short time or the long haul?”

I answer without hesitation. “The long haul.”

“Good.” He smiles and pulls me in for a bro hug. “Patience is key, man. Don’t do too much too fast, but don’t give up on her either.”

“I won’t.”

The Game Plan

Step 1: Up your flirting game. Learn what she likes and what she responds best to. Keep reading that chick book you mentioned. Then test the waters and see if she seems repulsed. If she does, ABORT MISSION!! But if she seems into it or, even better, flirts back, then continue to the next step.

Step 2: Take any opportunity you can to touch her. Lingering eye contact and hugs. But don’t side hug her like a friend (Fletch made me include that). Hold her hand. Do an “accidental” pinky graze. Tuck her hair behind her ear. Girls live for that sort of thing.

Step 3: If the first two steps go well and the opportunity or moment is right, then it’s time to see if those fireworks are still there. KISS THE GIRL!!! If the first two steps don’t go well…then repeat them or call us for flirting advice since you’re probably doing it wrong. (Again, that was Fletch.)

Step 4: Repeat steps 1–3. Put in the work like she’s Game 7 of the World Series and you need to hit a home run to win it all for your team.

When the shuttle finally pulls up in front of the all-inclusive resort, I sigh in relief. After being on planes for almost eight hours, followed by this two-hour shuttle ride, I desperately need to stretch my legs.

But I would go through it all again just to be with Alyssa. She made the whole day feel like an adventure, from running to catch our connecting flight to sharing her earbuds and watching movies she’d downloaded. But the best part of the plane ride was when she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. It may not seem like much, but it felt monumental.

It gave me the perfect access to the intoxicating scent of her subtle floral perfume mixed with her coconut conditioner. I never thought of myself as a coconut-and-flowers kind of guy, but I’d happily inhale that scent over and over again. As long as it’s connected to her.

When the shuttle comes to a stop, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and grab all three of our suitcases, letting Alyssa carry only her backpack.

Alyssa steps off the shuttle and turns back to me. “I can take the small one.”

“I’ve got them.” I don’t want her to have to worry about lifting a finger when I’m around. It may not exactly scream I have feelings for you, but at least it will show her how she deserves to be treated. Like a queen. To know that she should never settle for less.

I carry the luggage off the shuttle and set it under the covered portico before easily wheeling it as we head toward the entrance. My eyes take in the beautiful scenery around us. The resort is nestled in a cove of palm trees and lush tree-covered mountains with the beach behind it. It’s no wonder St. Lucia is said to be a romantic Caribbean destination.

The perfect environment to spend the next few days with Alyssa.

“No,” Alyssa groans. “I thought we had more time.”

I follow her gaze and immediately see what she's talking about. Or, rather, who. Bianca and Bradley are walking toward us and holding hands. Alyssa’s cousin is in a long dress that hugs her curves, leaving little to the imagination, while Bradley is wearing pants and a suit coat with no shirt underneath. He’s not even jacked. More like a tall, lean string bean.

“You good?” I whisper loud enough for only Alyssa to hear.

She wraps her arm around my bicep, and I flex—a man’s gotta work with the tools he’s got.

“Yep.” She pops her lips.

I wish she would tell me what she’s really thinking, because obviously she’s not good right now. But I don’t have time to reassure her before we reach them.

“Welcome,” Bianca oozes in a fake, sickly sweet tone, but Bradley balks when he sees us.