And something in my chest splinters. I rub my hand against my chest, trying to erase the weird sensation I’m feeling.
“I promise. Good things will happen for you, Dillon. I know it.”
Because good things are owed to people who suffer the awful. Well, that’s what my mom always said. But it never happened that way for her. I really hope it does for Dillon.
“West?”
I brush strands of her hair off her forehead, and her eyes open and close slowly.
“Yeah?”
“I … I …” Then, she passes out.
I chuckle to myself. Then, I turn her onto her side in case she pukes during the night. Actually … I grab the trash can and put it beside the bed, so I won’t have to clean up vomit off the floor.
I grab some sleep shorts, turn out the light, and head into the bathroom to change out of my clothes and brush my teeth.
When I exit the bathroom, I navigate my way through the room in the dark. Stopping by the bed, I look over at Dillon, fast asleep in my bed, snoring lightly.
A total stranger to me only a few hours ago, and now, I know what brought her to the island and into the bar, drunk and straight into my path.
Sure, she’s hurting now, but I’m going to make her time on this island good until she forgets any hurt those two assholes made her feel.
I walk quietly over to the shitty little chaise at the end of the bed. It’s either this or the floor. The floor is hard as fuck, and I’m not in college anymore—when it didn’t matter where I ended up sleeping. These days, I need comfort. I’m not getting any younger.
I lie down on the chaise, not bothering with a blanket because it’s hot as balls in here, even with the AC on.
I stare up at the dark ceiling, listening to the soft, even breaths coming from the bed.
It’s the last sound I hear before I fall asleep.
four
Dillon
I rouse to the sound of the ocean and the squeeze of my bladder.
I make an attempt to open my eyes but decide against it when the morning light nearly blinds me.
Christ’s sake. My head is pounding, and my mouth is as dry as sand.
Where the hell am I?
Oh yeah. On my honeymoon. Alone.
And I’m pretty sure I drank the island dry last night.
So, there is that.
I lift a hand to my head.
What happened last night?
I remember starting on that bottle of champagne. On a mostly empty stomach. Except for the banana I ate.
My stomach roils.
Ugh. Fuck. Don’t think about food.
I know I left my villa to go to the bar in search of more alcohol. Found the bar. There was definitely more drinking at the bar. Pretty sure I was talking to someone there as well. Then … nothing.
For fuck’s sake.
I send up a silent prayer. Please, God, don’t let me have made an arse out of my—
I hear a low, deep moan. Which definitely didn’t come from me. And definitely sounded male.
Oh God, please no. Don’t let me have hooked up with a complete stranger.
Peeking open one eye, I wince at the light.
And see that there’s a man asleep on the chaise at the end of my bed.
Holy fuuuuck.
My first night here, and there’s a guy in my room. At least he’s not in bed with me. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t have sex.
I run a hand over my body.
I’m in my underwear. No clothes.
Shit.
Okay. Don’t panic. I have my panties on. That’s a good sign, right? I’d be sans panties and the guy would be in bed with me if we’d had sex.
Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping.
Drunken sex with a complete stranger is so not what I need right now.
I’m not actually sure what I need, truth be told. Apart from a shower and a coffee. I can figure shit out from there.
First off, I need to find out who the hell this guy is.
Forcing my other eye open, I wipe the sleep from them with my hand and rise up onto my elbows to get a better look at the guy.
Damn, my head is killing me.
He’s on his side, facing away from me. All I can see is a mass of dirty-blond hair.
Who the hell is he? And why is he in my villa?
A quick trawl of my memory doesn’t bring up anything from last night. But also, my brain is still awash