Paige Byrne needs a vacation

Day 2: Agreements

In the world of humans, it is easy to lose oneself. We become something more desirable and unusual. Something more than just a plaything for the gods. It's easy to forget that we, ourselves, are unique when surrounded by beings so much more powerful than ourselves. — Excerpt from a long-forgotten diary

***

Midday sun beaming down. The inner bite of hunger begins to grumble as I shift my attention from the novel in my hands to the waves crashing in front of me. I place my book down and reach for the suntan lotion container, finding it empty.

"Sorry," Zale mutters. "I took the rest."

"You could have refilled it," my fingers try to fish out the last drops along the plastic rim.

"That would have required moving," his smirk makes my lips thin in a line as he shifts to make himself more comfortable and closes his eyes.

Too comfortable.

"You could also go back to your set of chairs."

I stare at the tanned face, trying not to positively appraise the sensual lips or how his hair moves softly against the cheekbones in his skin. Damn, this romance novel is already starting to get into my thoughts.

His eyes slowly flutter open and meet my gaze. I raise an eyebrow at him, and he huffs.

"Fine," Zale leans forward to assess the situation behind me, shaking his head. "Nope, someone else has already claimed them."

I shake my head, spreading the little I gathered onto my warm feet. His eyes follow my movements with a frown.

"I'll go get some now."

I shake my head. "No, I should be moving to find lunch anyway."

The muscles of his toned back stiffen as he sits up higher. "But, I thought we were eating here."

I will keep my eyes on his eyes and not admire his muscles anymore. Sure, I saw most of them when he was strutting on the beach, but that was a few chapters ago before things started to heat up.

My eyebrows knit together as my cheeks burn. I know I'm stalling. Zale might know I'm stalling. But as much as I want a fling, especially after reading the last scene—my legs are still pressed together— I also don't want people to assume we are together if we aren't. What if someone posts a photo of us? What if I become a target of his fan base and then become so upset by it that I turn into a rose bush out of spite?

"Sorry, I shouldn't have just assumed. Uhm, do you want to go get lunch somewhere?" His tone makes me pause my mental tirade to meet his gaze.

"Are you nervous?" I smirk.

He lets out a tense laugh that sounds more filled with air than humor. "I've never met someone who can just block me out. It's intriguing."

I put my hand out into the sun, the heat warming and drying my skin. Pulling my hand back, my eyes shift to him. "I'll think about where we can go while you go get more sunscreen—SPF 50."

His eyes widen. "That's too thick. Drink some water, I'll get us 30."

My lips thin as he slips on his sandals. "I want 50."

His shoulders go up to his ears and fall while he walks away with an expression of pure impish delight from teasing me.

"What the actual fuck," I mutter to myself, pulling up the restaurants on my phone.

I take my time going through the menus, willing myself not to overanalyze why this celebrity is following me around. Zale actually seems at ease with me. It's weird. Why wouldn't he just want to spend time with his groupies? He seems to enjoy their attention.