Page 52 of Special Delivery

Eventually, I give up pretending to sleep. I dare to gaze to my left, my breath hitching in my throat. Rays of sunshine blast through the balcony doors, landing right on Ryan’s face. The sharp angles of his face are relaxed, his long lashes touching his cheeks. His arm is above his head, showcasing his muscles. My teeth dig into my bottom lip. He’s so unfairly hot. The skin of his chest and stomach is on display, the sheet covering the one part I’m desperate to see again.

The part that was inside me last night.

I begged him for it, matter of fact.

My cheeks turn scorching, so I practically jump from the bed, rushing to the closet. I throw on the first thing I can find, which happens to be a shirt and some shorts, and dart out of the room. The first deep breath reaches my lungs as I move away from Ryan’s naked form. The reprieve is temporary because I’m soon met with suspicious looks from our two roommates.

Emma and Jordan sit across from each other at the long wooden table, each with a cup in their hand. Emma’s copper hair falls down her shoulder in loose waves, while Jordan’s short, dark hair is an absolute mess on top of her head. They’re both wearing white oversized t-shirts and a cat who got the canary look on their faces.

Summoning the last bit of courage, I take a step toward the table. “Good morning.”

“Is it a good morning, Jordan?” Emma taps a finger to her chin.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I barely got a wink of sleep last night,” Jordan joins the production with an over-exaggerated tone.

“How strange. Me, neither. What could be the cause for it?” Emma lifts her shoulders like a cartoon character.

“Probably all the noise. It sounded like someone was being slaughtered right here in our villa.”

Emma lets out a shocked gasp, her hand landing on her chest. My chest flushes under my shirt. I roll my eyes and head to the coffee station in the kitchen.

“Are you guys done?”

“No. But you sure were done last night.” They both cackle at Jordan’s remark.

Even though embarrassment floods me, I barely suppress a laugh. They’re ridiculous. The machine whirrs as it pours coffee into my cup, and as soon as it’s done, I join them at the table.

Jordan pauses for a second, before continuing, “Look, about last night… I’m sorry.”

“And we’re both proud. Very proud,” Emma adds.

“Yeah, but I’m truly sorry.” She runs her hand through the mess of her hair. “It’s just that there are times when I barely recognize you.” Her gaze drops to her cup. “I’ve known you since before your first breath, and sometimes I feel like I’ve lost you and don’t even know it.” She glances at me while I swallow around the lump in my throat. “You gave up on all your dreams. You barely leave your house. A part of me was excited to have you back, even if the reason was to sabotage Dad’s newest wedding. I wanted the two of us back.”

“People change.” My voice is barely audible.

“Of course. We’re both older, more mature. But you… Paige, you lost your spark.”

Emma reaches out her hand, enveloping mine. She’s definitely the touchy one. I sit in the uncomfortable presence of my sister’s words, chewing on the inside of my lip. I could argue, say she’s not being fair. That she’s taking things out of context. I could claim I’m the same person, only wiser.

But for the first time, I can’t.

It’s like last night destroyed a dam I was building for so long, and now all the emotions are flowing through. She’s right. I was scared and avoiding life. I told myself I don’t want to travel anymore. I told myself I don’t want to date, or love, or even have sex. While I’m definitely not ready for anything resembling love, don’t I finally deserve some fun?

“Anyway, that’s water under the bridge…” Jordan continues. “Since you obviously got your spark back last night.”

I huff a laugh. She ruffles my hair in a way I hate, but the familiar motion only makes me more emotional.

Jordan and I grew up without a mom. And while we had a wonderful dad, he was always more interested in finding the new love of his life than talking about feelings with us. So neither of us really knows how to do this. We don’t know how to talk shit out. The fact that we’re back to jokes makes perfect sense.

“I know I said having sex with him would be the perfect way to break off the wedding, but, whew, I hadn’t expected you to actually do it.”

I open my mouth to joke back when a throat clears from the hallway.

“Don’t mind me. Just grabbing coffee.” Ryan barely looks at us as he reaches for the coffee machine.

He’s shirtless, with another pair of workout shorts slung low on his hips. I’d be tempted to stare if I wasn’t obsessing about how he’s avoiding eye contact.

It takes a second to realize why. He overheard. He heard Jordan tell me that having sex with him would be perfect to break off the wedding. Shit.