Page 130 of Hawaii Can Suck It

My eyes land on Reece’s wrist, where a hot-pink scrunchie clings—the same one that, a few hours ago, was keeping my hair in place while he fu—

¡Dios mío! Calm your tits, Camila! Focus up, or we will never leave this bed.

The fact that he’s still wearing it as a bizarre trophy makes my heart sing. I should be panicking. Should be freaking out about how hard I’ve fallen. Leaving was always the plan. The whole point. But now? None of that matters. Not after last night.

I don’t want to leave.

I want to stay. With him.

It’s suddenly clear what I have to do—something I’ve avoided this entire trip.

Lay it all out. Confess the truth… Admit I love him.

No games, no half-truths. Just the messy reality.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Reece, it’s that he’ll never make the first move. Not when it comes to feelings. He’s too scared of being used, too burned by people turning him into a paycheck. Someone has to be brave. And it might as well be me.

All I need is to shake off the ugly voice in my head whispering Astrid’s words.

“You’re just using him to launch your channel.”

“You and I are the same.”

“We all use each other to get ahead.”

My twisted stomach is a pretzel of guilt. Did I come here hoping he’d promote my channel? Absolutely. Was that a little opportunistic? One hundred percent. But that was before I knew the man behind the YouTuber persona was someone I could fall in love with.

Reece Dare, my scrunchie thief, tenderhearted grump, and secret Tom Cruise fanboy.

I’d rather throw my camera into the ocean than risk him thinking I’m mining his influence for personal gain. I won’t ask for his endorsement. Not now. Not ever. If he offers, that’s different. But I refuse to be another entry on the long list of takers in his life.

Because I love him, not his followers.Him.

I reach out, unable to resist tracing the sharp cut of his jaw with my fingertips. His stubble scratches my skin, the sensation shooting straight to my core. His snoring stutters then abruptly stops. His lips curve into a devastating smile that would break the internet if his fans saw it.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he murmurs.

“You haven’t even opened your eyes. How can you say I look pretty?” I say, trying to sound sassy instead of hopelessly smitten. “I could be hideous, or maybe I transformed into a monstrous eel after you dozed off.”

One eye lifts, ocean blue peeking out. “Eels don’t have these, Morales.” His hand slides without warning, cupping my bare breast, his fingers giving a slow, teasing squeeze.

“¡Mierda!” I gasp, heat flooding through me. “Some people just say good morning, you know.”

“They aren’t waking up to a breathtaking sex goddess.” Both eyes are open now, focused on me with an intensity that causes me to melt. “You’re so damn beautiful it’s painful, Camila. Even half-asleep, I’d recognize you. The air feels different when you’re close.”

How does he do that?Go from playful to soul-deep in two seconds?

“I’m either sex-drunk from last night, or that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I joke, trying to mask how completely undone I am by his words.

His mouth quirks up on one side. “You’re too far away from me.” He hooks an arm around my waist and hauls me to him with embarrassing ease. I collide with the solid wall of his naked chest, his skin blazing hot against mine in the air-conditioned room.

His lips find my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose—I shiver. Each press of his mouth is gentle, almost reverent, completely at odds with the filthy things he said last night.

“Can we just stay here? Forever?”

His arms tighten around me, one large hand splaying possessively across my lower back. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. We could become beach hermits. Live off room service and skinny dipping.”

I pull back enough to take him in, studying the quiet storm in his eyes.What is he holding in?

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