Page 93 of Wrong For Me

“Rose,” I bark out, because it literally feels impossible to just sit here while that’s happening.

She blinks over at me. “Yeah?”

“Weren’t you supposed to video chat with your family tonight?”

She’s looking at me like I’m crazy. “No?”

I grit my teeth. “You talk to them every night. Won’t they be worried?” I look the asshole straight in the eye. “Rose has a huge family. It’s a trip, the way they all talk at the same time. I can barely hear myself think when she’s chatting with them in our room.” I put just enough emphasis on the wordourto make it clear what I mean.She sleeps in my room, buddy. Get your hands off.

Rose is gaping at me now, anger flashing in her eyes. But I can deal with the anger. The important thing is that sweater vest Kevin has slid his hand away, an expression of confused uncertainty on his face.

But just to make sure, I push further. “Maybe we should go up to bed. You know how sleepy you get when you drink too much wine.” I smile at Kevin. “We had quite a bit earlier. In the lounge together.”

The dude has now slid several inches away from Rose, clearly concerned that he’s been openly hitting on another guy’s girlfriend. He should be concerned. He might have an inch or two on me, but the dude is rail thin. I’m much broader everywhere it counts.

Rose looks like she’s considering the best way to draw blood. She looks over at Kevin, notices the distance and the way he’s not meeting her eyes, and her lips purse into a tight line. “I think I will go up to bed,” she says, voice shaking a little. “Thanks for keeping me company through all the boring parts.” She leans a little closer to him. “You have my number, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, looking between me and her, clearly confused.

She bestows him with one of those perfect, sunshine-filled smiles. “Great. I’d love to hear from you.”

Then she pulls herself the rest of the way from the water, leaving me to scramble to catch up.

“Malone is leaving!” red bathing suit lady calls. “Goodnight, Malone!”

“Malone!” a few people echo, their voices even more drunken and slurred than they’d been earlier.

“Malone,” Rose is muttering to herself as she scrubs her body down with a fluffy white towel. “Malone the damn asshole.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.”

She glares at me. Okay, going for light was maybe not the best choice. I take a step closer. “Rose.”

She smashes a finger into my bare chest, and God do I want to grab it to pull her closer. She’s out of the ring of tiki torches now but her body is bathed in soft moonlight and I swear I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than she is in this moment, hair wet, eyes huge in her face, anger flashing in their icy blue depths.

“No,” she growls. “You don’t talk. I’m done talking to you.”

I snap my mouth closed, nodding. I can wait until we’re in the room. But we are going to talk tonight.

Rose yanks her hair from the ponytail before wrapping it in the towel then pulls on a thin cover-up, her movements jerky. I follow her back into the resort, trying to keep enough distance that she won’t strangle me. But it must not be enough because she spins around. “Why don’t you have a towel?”

I shrug. “Forgot to grab one.”

“You’re going to drip all over the floor!”

I shrug again. “Not a lot I can do about it. It’s too cold out there to air dry.”

She glares at me for a long moment before finally pulling the towel out of her hair and throwing it at me. She hits her target, straight in the face.

“Why are you grinning?” she growls.

“Because you’re really cute.”

She throws her hands up. “That’s what you’re taking from this? I’mcute?I’m currently debating the best way to remove your testicles from your body, Leo.”

I grin harder. “You’re cute when you’re planning my castration.”

She spins on her heel, clearly too angry to even look at me. But that’s okay. Anger I can deal with. Anger requires passion. Anger means she gives a damn. And maybe this is what we need. To argue. To get it all out there.