Page 48 of Not Safe for Work
“I asked him what happened, and then I told him off.”
I frown. “Why are you apologizing for him? You should apologize for what you said. Are you sure you want to be seen with me, given I’m not subtle?”
Shame flashes across his expression. “Yes, I’m sorry for that, too. I seem to be apologizing a lot lately.” He leans forward and stretches out a hand but pulls it back, balling it into a fist. “I said that wrong. What I meant was it’s hard to believe you’re an introvert because you shine in every room you enter.”
My mouth parts with a breath of surprise. I forget every last word in the English language, but Rafe’s not quite done tying me into knots.
“There’s nothing unmissable about you. That’s all I meant. That there isn’t anywhere you could go where everyone wouldn’t notice you.”
This is what he thinks?
“And I’m apologizing for every idiot who has ever treated you that way.”
There are too many things occurring at once.
“You really think that? About me?”
“Yes,” he says, penetrating me with his gaze. “I do.”
My chest tightens and loosens at the same time.
There’s a lot to unpack here, but I can’t seem to get it out right now. “You’re one to talk. You claim you’re a real introvert, but you walk around schmoozing everyone like you’re running for Senate.”
Everyone but me, I don’t add.
He smiles. It’s been only a day since this has become my reality, but I already know the brilliance of that smile will never diminish. That every single time will feel like the first one over and over. I’m so far in over my head that I’m standing at the bottom of the sea.
Rafe stares out the window as another brilliant flash of lightning forks across the sky.
“They think a pretty severe tropical storm might be gathering.”
“What?” My stomach drops. “Shouldn’t we evacuate? Why are we just sitting here?” Panic claws up my throat as the water swells and the wind picks up, tugging at the palm trees fighting against its strength.
“It’s okay,” Rafe says, scrutinizing me. “They almost never hit the mainland here—it’s more than likely to stay over the water. There’s no reason to worry.”
I nod, trying to calm the racing in my heart and the tingling at the tips of my fingers and toes.
That’s when a giant seafood platter arrives with steaming mountains of lobster and shrimp and an awkwardly angled pile of crab legs. A tub of melted butter is nestled in the forest of shells, and on any other day, a pack of wild wolves wouldn’t stop me from inhaling every bite. But my stomach roils as apprehension saws on my nerves.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” I whisper.
“But you’re always hungry,” he jokes, and it almost makes me smile.
Hotel staff are scrambling across the beach, gathering lounge chairs and umbrellas, securing everything with ropes, and stuffing them into storage bins. I take a large swig from the glass of water Rafe just ordered and wipe my mouth with my forearm.
“Tris, are you okay?” A hand settles on my back for the briefest flutter before it pulls away. He rubs his palms on the fabric of his dress pants, and I’m not sure what to read into that.
“Rafe,” I say quietly as my emotions swing.
“Attention all hotel guests,” comes a disembodied voice over a PA system. “We’re expecting some strong winds over the next few hours. Please move to the ballroom level and away from the windows. All hotel guests should take cover. Please move in a calm and organized manner.” The tinny voice is calm and detached as it repeats the missive again.
Blood drains from my limbs. I can’t let go of the chair arms, my knuckles white and my hands aching from the effort. The surrounding diners rise from their seats, moving together in a flow like a school of minnows.
“Tris? What’s wrong?” The concern in Rafe’s voice almost makes me break as I inhale a jagged breath.
“I don’t like storms,” I whisper, prepared for him to mock me. To take this and use it against me.
His response, though, is a solemn nod. “You’re white as a ghost. Let’s go. It’ll be okay. This hotel is made of concrete and safety glass. It’ll withstand this weather. It’s built for this.”
