Page 87 of Hawaii Can Suck It

Then, as if a switch is flipped, his features harden into that familiar scowl. “Well, I don’t think blurry rainy photos are going to cut it.”

He turns away, ending the conversation, and I do the same. Through the window, Lahaina disappears from view, along with my chance to capture even a glimpse of its story. But it’s not the missed opportunity that has my blood boiling—it’s him.

How is it that, despite his whole Jekyll-and-Hyde routine, I crave his touch?Seriously, get it together, girl!Yet the torturous push and pull of him is addictive—as if I enjoy being breathless and internally screaming. What kind of dark magic is this?

Somebody call a priest—my vagina needs an exorcism.

***

Theragingstormisbiblical—a darkened sky unleashes its fury with thick sheets of rain, while trees are furiously being battered by the winds. It’s nothing compared to the seething storm inside of me. I burst out of the shuttle like a sprinter at the starting gun, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of Reece’s silence.

Rain hammers the pavement as guests scramble toward the hotel lobby, where the standing, smiling workers resemble a welcoming committee. They’re armed with fluffy white towels, ponchos, and those stupid gift bags that probably contain more of Kai’s sex toys. Wind whips through the open-air space, knocking over flower displays and sending brochures flying in every direction.

I don’t stop.

I walk straight through the crowd and right out the nearest door.

I step outside, and the rain swallows me whole.

It’s so cold, it steals the breath from my lungs, instantly soaking my tank top and shorts, plastering them to me like a second skin. Water slides down my neck, trailing over my collarbones, pooling in the hollow between my breasts. I sprint through the downpour, my feet splashing through puddles reflecting the violent sky.

I don’t care. I need space. I need distance from him.

“Cam!” Reece’s voice cuts through the thunder.

I keep walking.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demands, his voice closer now.

I whirl around, barely able to see him through the thick curtain of rain. “Getting away from you!”

“It’s not safe out here.” Lightning flashes, highlighting every ridge of muscle beneath his soaked shirt. “You need to come back inside.”

Fury explodes inside me. “I think you’re confused about your role in my life. You are not my real boyfriend. You’re myfakeboyfriend. Which means you don’t get an opinion about what I do and whether or not it’s safe.”

“I may not be your boyfriend, but I am your boss.”

“¡Ay, Dios mío! Has it been ten whole minutes already?” I throw my arms wide as thunder shakes the ground. “Hey, Hawaii! Did you hear that?Reece Dareis myBOSS! Quick, someone carve that into a totem pole for everybody to read! Oh wait. The world already knows because you never shut up about it!”

Reece drags a rough hand down his face, cursing under his breath.

The rain pounds against my skin as I march up to him, jabbing my finger to his chest. “Being my boss does not mean you get a say in my personal life.”

We’re toe to toe, so close I feel the heat radiating off his body. Water drips from his dark hair, trailing down his neck, and my traitorous gaze follows its path. His breathing is sharp and uneven, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.

God, I want him to kiss me.To finish what he started in that waterfall.

My skin burns where raindrops hit, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. What would happen if I just… leaned in? Would he push me away? Or would he grab me, crush me against him, remind me exactly why I can’t think straight when he’s near?

The thought of him taking me right here on the rain-soaked grass makes my core clench so fucking hard with need, my knees buckle. I want his hands on my skin, his mouth claiming mine, his body pressing me into the earth while the storm rages around us. I swear I can hear my own heartbeat over the thunder, can feel the charge in the air, buzzing, building, pressing against my ribs as if it’s yearning to get out.

And Reece? He’s standing there, rain running off his dark, soaked hair. His breathing is measured, as if he’s trying to hold something in. His storm-blue eyes flick over my face—burning, calculating—before he takes a giant step back, putting physical space between us.

“I hear you.” His voice is rough. “Will youpleasecome to the room and get out of the rain?”

“Fine. Since you said please… but mainly because I’m freezing.”

When I say “freezing,” his gaze drops to my chest. The rain has turned my shirt completely see-through, and he doesn’t even try to hide his stare at my stiff nipples.

---