Page 65 of Not Safe for Work

“Rafe probably isn’t coming,” I add as we start walking.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but I haven’t seen him all afternoon. He must be off brooding somewhere.”

“Hmm,” Lan says with a knowing air. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art form.”

I roll my eyes. “C’mon. My buzz is in danger of wearing off.”

We make our way through the hotel’s wide marble hallways and exit through the rear entrance to arrive at the Sand Dune.

It sits directly on the beach, where a dozen flickering torches backdrop a long bar. Sleek white couches surround low wicker tables, all connected by wooden boardwalks interspersed with small pools floating with tiny flickering candles.

As we enter, Andy waves us over to a U-shaped seating area. He’s sitting with some guys from the conference, along with some women I don’t recognize.

Thanks to WMC’s unbalanced gender ratio, they’ve clearly had to go hunting for reinforcements. Thankfully for them, at least a dozen wedding parties are also staying at the resort, so there are plenty of bridesmaids ripe for the wooing.

Andy pats the seat next to him, and there is no mistaking his assessing look as his gaze rakes me from head to toe. I resist the urge to tug down the hem of my skirt. Maybe I should have worn something less revealing.

He shouts down the line to make room for me and my friends. As I sit, I’m immediately squished against him as Gabrielle and Lan squeeze their way onto the sofa. Is it too soon to call coconut? I talk myself down from overreacting.

“When does trivia start?” I ask, tugging back a piece of hair that blows across my face.

“Soon,” Andy replies with a smirk, leaning closer. “You look great.”

“Oh, this old thing?” I joke and then immediately look away, uncomfortable and wondering why I agreed to this. I’d honestly rather be in my room watching the water and reading my book or having a quiet dinner with my friends.

As we all make conversation, the noise swells, and the energy picks up, and it’s obvious everyone started partying a while ago. While more and more people find their way to the bar, I’m jostled from every side, and my skin itches with the uncomfortable sensation of being hemmed in. I consider a plan to politely extricate myself.

Then Rafe walks into the Sand Dune. My attention zeroes in on his presence instantly.

His dark hair tosses in the breeze, and he wears navy shorts, a blue fitted T-shirt, and a large silver watch that does things to me. Did he wear that because of what I said about his arms?

A surge of bodies nearly squeezes me off the couch, so I take the opportunity to escape.

Stumbling a few steps through the sand, I right myself.

Rafe also finds me immediately.

It’s then I understand who I wore this outfit for. His gaze meanders slowly from my face down the length of my body, traveling past my mouth and over my breasts, sliding to the hem of my skirt and my barely covered thighs, and this… I don’t mind.

Lan catches my eye, and I nod to assure her I’m okay.

“Excuse me,” I say to Andy, though I’m not sure if he can hear me, and then walk away.

I stride in the opposite direction of Rafe. I don’t know why, but I’m struck with a premonition: If I approach him, I’ll fall into a black hole from which I can never return.

Or maybe I just want to see if he’ll follow.

I wind through the sand, passing laughing crowds and flickering torches, heading towards a bar to order a drink.

A booming voice erupts over the sound system, signaling the start of trivia night. A wave of bodies coalesces towards a stage set up just beyond the bar’s perimeter. Apparently, the prizes range in significance from free trips to impressive sums of cash, and the competition is fierce.

I ask for a glass of wine, and while the bartender fills my request, I sense a warm presence behind me. The bartender deposits my drink on the bar and looks up.

“I’ll have a Big Swell IPA,” Rafe says over my head. The bartender nods and plucks a glass bottle from a basin of ice, cracking the top and handing it over. I pick up my glass and take a sip, willing myself not to look at Rafe.

There’s a lot that needs to be said but is probably better left alone. And I don’t think I’m ready for any of it.