Page 92 of Twisted Beauty

What? No. God, this was so awkward. Liv tried to pull her hand away, but he twined his fingers through hers and held tight.

“Elle, I’m here with Liv. I sincerely hope this isn’t going to be uncomfortable. For any of us.”

Elle looked between the two of them and her face fell. “Not at all.”

Shit. Was it possible to feel guilty for hurting someone you didn’t even particularly like? At the very least, Liv didn’t want to make Elle feel any worse than she already did.

She pulled her hand gently out of Matt’s grasp. “Maybe you two should talk? I need to go back to the room for a few minutes anyway. I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.” She headed toward the palapa, hoping Matt could smooth things over without involving her. She had enough drama in her life.

Even so, she felt a little twinge in her gut, like she was seeing a glimpse into her own future. She had to remind herself daily that she and Matt weren’t an item, because he made it so easy to forget. He’d probably been the same with Elle. So maybe Elle didn’t know how to take no for an answer, but could she really be blamed for wanting more?

Liv sighed. One thing she knew for sure—no matter how she felt when this was over, she’d never pressure Matt for more. She didn’t want him to regret the time they’d spent together. Or to feel bad about himself, thinking he’d hurt her. From the beginning, he’d been so afraid of leading her on.

Well, the good news, she supposed, was that she couldn’t become Elle if she wanted to. She’d be living in a different country. This trip was a beautiful little diversion, but eventually she had to go home.

And the thought of her apartment in Los Angeles made her stomach clench. In just over a week, she’d have to go back and clean up the mess she left behind. And what a huge mess it was. No job, no fiancé, and a conversation she really didn’t want to have with her mother. If they were even on speaking terms by then.

Back in the palapa, she plopped down on the edge of the bed. She needed a few minutes alone to shake off this mood and slip back into her wonderful Mexico fantasy life. At least for the remainder of her trip.

Her phone buzzed from inside her purse, which she’d left behind when they went to the falls. It buzzed again. She dragged herself off the bed and grabbed her bag from the dresser. She pulled out the phone and couldn’t believe how many text messages filled her screen. All of them, it seemed, were from Grant.

Liv groaned.

She needed to put down the phone and walk away. Now. But she couldn’t stop her fingers from scrolling through, and as she read she felt all the blood drain from her face.

Did you see my last texts? In PV for a special segment. Tomorrow morning on the Malecon. We could use our best camera girl.

We need to talk, babe. Lunch at Francisco’s on the water after we film? Two thirty. Just the two of us. I miss you.

Are you coming, Red? Don’t make me beg. I know you miss me too.

Shit on a stick. How did he even know she was here?

And he hadn’t called her Red since the day they got engaged. What the hell?

She tossed the phone on the dresser and leaned forward onto her hands, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she stared at her own reflection in the mirror without really seeing it.

Was she a crap person in a past life? Was that the reason she couldn’t catch a break in this one?

“Liv,” said a familiar, deep voice. She caught Matt’s eyes in the mirror. He stood in the doorway, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should come in. “Is everything okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, everything’s good.” Her voice came out a little shaky. She needed time to process this, and wasn’t prepared to share it with anyone yet.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He glanced down at the phone and then locked eyes with her in the mirror. “Are you sure? Did someone say something to upset you?”

Liv shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.”

“It’s not about Elle, is it? Because she and I—”

Liv forced a smile. “No, it’s not about Elle. I feel bad acting like a couple in front of her, but other than that, having her here isn’t a problem.”

“Acting like a couple? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Liv said. She really didn’t want to talk about Elle. Or Grant. She didn’t want to talk about anything at all. Her mind felt a little blurry, and she’d barely had any alcohol. Yet.

It was a gorgeous afternoon, with a clear blue sky and a warm pool, and she was here with a big, hunky, sweetheart of a man. She just wanted to enjoy it. She relaxed into his arms. “Is everyone still down at the pool? Because I’m ready for a nice, cold drink.”

“Then you’re missing out.” He nuzzled his cheek against her neck, and his stubble tickled. “That’s what I came to tell you. Pedro is serving up passion fruit margaritas. With fresh-squeezed juice. They’re incredible.”