Page 61 of Tell Me You Like It

I stand up and make a beeline for the exit.

“Lux,” Roman calls after me, but I don’t stop. I burst out into the chilly afternoon, and I suck in a breath, but that feeling of panic is still knotted tightly in my stomach.

He’s following me. I can feel it, like a dark specter weighing me down. It’s a heavy feeling, and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Lux,” he says again, this time, more impatient than anything else. Before he can reach out and grab me again, I stop and whip around to face him.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.”

He clenches his jaw, and glances away briefly, as though he’s gathering every last shred of patience he has left. “You weren’t answering my texts.”

I just stare at him blankly—and I guess I wait a little too long to answer, because he snatches my phone out of my hand, and glances at the screen.

“What the fuck?” I say, swiping for it. But he’s so tall, he easily holds it up, out of my reach.

“What’s the code?”

I drop my hand and scoff. “I’m not giving you my security code.”

“Cool,” he says, tucking it into his back pocket. “I guess I’ll just keep it, then.”

I push out a breath and consider my options—which aren’t many. Honestly, I just want to get this exchange over with as quickly as possible, so I can go back to my room and crawl under the covers.

“One-zero-eight-zero,” I whisper through gritted teeth.

He types in the code, and scrolls for a second. “I see the problem,” he says, looking at me. “You have me fuckingblocked.”

I’d done it the second I woke up because I had a feeling he’d be blowing up my phone—and yeah, I don’t have the mental space to deal with his shit today. But here we are anyway.

He swipes, and clicks something—unblocking himself, I’m guessing. The second he’s done with that, I grab my phone back from him.

“Don’t do it again,” he warns.

In retrospect, it wasn’t the best idea to block him. I should have known that if I didn’t respond, he’d eventually just come and find me—which is a million times worse than a text, because, now, he’s standing in front of me smelling delicious, reminding me of how he made me feel last night.

I blow out a breath of frustration. “Why were you texting me?” I ask. “What do you want?”

He slides the strap of my backpack off my shoulder and slings it over his. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

I stiffen. “I’m not in the mood for another party. I’m tired.”

Honestly, if I could just go back to my room, and sleep for a few weeks, I might feel better. The last few days have been an emotional rollercoaster, and I just don’t know how much more I can take.

“It's much better than a party,” he says. “Trust me.”

Idon’ttrust him. Not even a little.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Lux

Roman doesn’t takeme far. We’re only in the car for a couple of minutes before he pulls over on the side of a private road, and gets out. I follow him past a short fence, to a sandy path. We’re near the ocean—I can hear the unmistakable sound of waves crashing in the near distance–and Roman leads me to a narrow footpath that’s partially hidden behind some shrubbery.

We start the short trek down the scruffy hill, passing vibrant bougainvillea vines that cascade down the hillside, their purple blossoms adding a burst of color to the coastal landscape.

As we descend, the sound of crashing waves grows louder, drawing us closer and closer with each step. The path opens up, revealing an empty beach. The deep blue ocean water stretches as far as the eye can see, merging seamlessly with the clear evening sky. The sun hasn’t set yet, so it’s still quite bright.

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