Turks and Caicos fucking sucks.
I should have been hopping on a plane with Claire at my side, heading back to New York and going back to the status quo. Both of us equally unsatisfied and caring for one another and never speaking a word of it.
The sunshine glows against Claire’s skin, glistening because these men keep applying sunscreen on her like it’s their fucking mission in life. Their hands are reverent as they touch her, like she’s a goddess they worship.
It’s what she deserves. In fact, she deserves the universe put at her feet.
A beach server comes by and I order another beer, sipping on it, and watch as she goes into the crystalline ocean with them.
Her bathing suit clings to her body like a second skin as the Alpha carries her by the waist into the water so she doesn’t have to walk on any shells.
I’m not good enough for her, and never was. I should walk away, accept that she’s the one who always got away, yet I sip my beer and watch.
My favorite torture becomes watching Claire and these two men. I can’t look away, I can’t leave, but can I change?
The next day, I wonder if Claire is speculating if I left the ship at the last port. I probably should have, at the very least, I should speak to her, but what the fuck do I say?
I’m watching Wells kiss her throat as she drinks some frozen drink with an umbrella in it. The sun is setting, and there’s a myriad of designations on the top deck. Music blares as people dance, touch, and swim in the pool. It’s all very unsettling, and it adds another tick in the pro box of me leaving this ship.
My phone vibrates and I ignore it, just hooked on watching them.
Suddenly light-blue eyes I’m all too familiar with lock on mine, unblinking as the Beta kisses her, the Alpha strokes her hair.
She’s taunting me, and she fucking knows it. Part of me thinks she knows I’ve been watching this whole time and she wants me to suffer.
I probably deserve it.
I don’t look away; I don’t crack. She pats Wells’ hand, sitting up from the lounge chair and handing him her drink as she saunters toward me.
She puts her hands on her hips and sighs down at me.
“So, are you going to stalk me the entire cruise or are you actually going to come and speak to me? At the very least,apologize how you spoke to me the other night,” she scolds me and it’s well deserved.
I lost my shit that night and I regret the way I acted. Most of all I regret hurting her feelings.
“I apologize for the way I spoke to you. I’m sorry I hurt you,” I say and she motions her hand to continue and I stare at her.
“And for being extremely rude to Forrest,” she adds and I just stare at her, which has her rolling her eyes. “Elliot…”
The way she says my name sends a shiver down my spine, and I hope that she doesn’t notice.
“Could we talk? Not here. In private?” I ask her.
I’m not sure what to say. Maybe I can convince her to come back if I’m more level-headed. But doing that would hurt her even more, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
“We could go to your room?” I suggest and she shakes her head.
“No, I can’t have your scent in there.”
Fuck, it probably smells like that Alpha. It would probably send me over the edge going in there and scenting them together, too.
“My room it is. 6104,” I tell her.
“Let me go tell them and get changed. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I do my best to not watch her ass as she walks back to the men who are giving her everything that I can’t. The gigantic Alpha glares daggers at me when he looks at me.
It takes everything in me to not give him the middle finger. It’s best to not make things any worse than they already are.