Page 85 of Hawaii Can Suck It

Like I just crossed a line. One we can’t uncross.

She’s in complete and utter disbelief. And I hate that I did this to her.

I grab the selfie stick, my hand shaking as I check the screen. Fuck me sideways. The chat is moving so fast, it’s just a rainbow blur. The viewer count sends ice through my veins: fifty million. I kill the stream without even saying goodbye.

The whole damn internet just watched me maul my employee like a pent-up teenager. The one woman who was supposed to stay firmly in the “do not touch” category.She’s your fake girlfriend. FAKE!

Way to go, dickhead.

You were supposed to make things up to her, not make out with her.

But Jesus Christ, those lips. Those little whimpers she makes. The way she tastes…

No. Mistake made. Lesson learned.

Pull your shit together. Keep your fucking distance. This can’t happen again.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CAM

GROUP CHAT : CPK FOREVER

Me:911 HELP: How do u cope when ur boss melts ur brain with a kiss… then ghosts you?

Petra:THAT LIPLOCK TOOK DOWN THE OFFICE WIFI. My bro legit paused a meeting to replay it.

Katie:Aunt Deb’s exact words: “When a man kisses like that, darling, you better start stretching, because that’s just the appetizer”

Petra:What happened to fake dating for views?

Me:WE ARE! Someone needs to tell my vajayjay.

Katie:There was nothing fake about the way he devoured you.

Petra:Or the way you wrapped those legs around him.

Katie:Your whole body must still be buzzing.

Me:Worst. Lady. Boner. Ever.

REECE MIGHT BE DEAD.

Or maybe he simply forgot how to function as a human being.

I should probably check for a pulse, but that would require touching him, and he’s currently doing his best statue impression. Like, hasn’t moved, spoken, or possibly even breathed since we climbed into this shuttle of sexual tension. He’s angled toward the aisle as if I’ve got a contagious disease he’ll contract through prolonged eye contact.

My hands grip the seat tightly as we navigate this bumpy, nausea-inducing ride down the Maui mountains. Fat raindrops begin to sprinkle against the window glass, trailing down in slow, lazy patterns. The gorgeous coastline stretches before us, and I try to focus on the water instead of acknowledging the wall of frustration radiating from the man beside me. But my brain keeps spinning, kinda like our rotating sex bed—replaying everything that’s happened since sunrise.

Will the real Reece Dare please stand up?

Reece—the one from this morning—was different. He was… attentive. Present. His laugh was genuine, his smile captivating. The way he wrapped that blanket around us at Mount Haleakala, his chest pressed against my back, his breath warming my neck as we watched the sun ignite the sky. For a moment, I let myself believe he actually wanted to be there.With me.

And don’t even get me started on the chat comments. How the fans went absolutely crazy over us, overme…It made me feel seen. Important. Like it’s possible I wasn’t just the lackluster videographer he’s been criticizing for two years. Maybe Idobelong in front of the camera and peoplewouldcare about the stories I want to tell.

But I totally blew my opportunity to ask Reece to promote my channel. After he confessed, there’s no way I could’ve managed these last few years without you. Even now, I… I’m glad you’re here.

Don’t ask me to string two words together after that truth bomb.

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