Stranded with the Rockstar (Rockstar #1)

9. Harry

Well this fucking sucks. No wonder Sunny hates doing it.

Harry's been staring at the pot for God knows how long, waiting for it to boil. After realizing this wasn't going to be a quick task, he tossed a coconut into the tent. At least she'll get some nourishment while they are waiting on this.

After that, he thought he'd pass the time by cleaning his teeth with the mint leaves that Sunny had gathered, but that only took a few minutes. And now he's listening to her move around in the tent like a bird in a cage. She's not used to sitting still, that much is obvious.

"If you bust open your wound, don't come running to me," he yells.

"I'm being careful." Her voice comes from the other side of the tarp. "How are you doing? Having lots of fun?"

"Loads! Thanks for asking!"

He can't wait to get rescued and return to his life, leaving this whole mess behind him. Why has no one found them yet? It's been at least a full day since someone noticed he was missing. How hard can it be to find an island? The ocean can't be that big—not when thousands of fans are looking for you, anyway.

Although, who knows how far they were thrown off course during that wind storm? And neither of them had even seen the island behind those huge boulders until they were practically on top of it.

What if it does take more days? Or several more days? They have to stop with the back and forth complaining and blaming each other. He knows that will mean helping out more, which is somewhat of a new concept to him. He acknowledges the fact that he is twenty-six years old and has basically been taken care of his whole life.

But the bottom line is that he has to try to get along with this girl. Why does she make it so difficult? People love him—of course not every troll on internet—but people in his actual life are always telling him what a great and generous person he is. They can't all be lying to him.

And what was that line about paying everyone in his life? He has friends—although they do tend to ask for favors quite frequently. He has his dad—although he hasn't spoken to him in months.

The truth is he probably talks to Liam, his assistant, and Jeffrey, his manager, more than anyone else. And they are literally on the payroll. Well that doesn't make him feel very warm and fuzzy.

He'll dissect that little self revelation later.

Sunny has a way of forcing him to analyze feelings and thoughts that he's been doing a very good job of suppressing until now. It's a nasty habit of hers.

The water starts boiling finally, and he takes the pot off the fire pit, scooping some of the liquid out with coconut shells. This will be step one. He got her water and sanitized it for her. Now she has to be nice to him.

Walking over to the tent, he sees her lying on her back, staring at nothing. "Thirsty?"

She sits up and nods, taking the shell from him. "Thank you."

Okay. She's not yelling at him any longer. That's good. Maybe the next step should be telling the truth, not holding anything back. And add a little humility into the mix.

"I was high the night we met." Her head whips towards him. He continues, resigned, "That's why I didn't throw a rope. I had just smoked a massive blunt, and I wasn't thinking, clearly."

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"Because I didn't know you, and I was supposed to be sober. That's why I was on that bloody cruise to begin with. My manager sends me on these little secluded excursions every once in awhile when I get, in his words, 'too far gone'. It's his attempt to snap me out of it before I get arrested or sent to rehab. It usually works, and this time, even better than expected. I'm completely detoxed now."