Page 9 of Beyond The Break

“Thank you,” I say, taking the handle from him and pulling my suitcase closer to me. “How much do I owe you?” I ask, unlocking my phone and clicking on my digital wallet.

“Oh no, no,” he says, holding his hands up and taking a step back, flustered. “I was paid in advance with a very generous tip ma’am.” he says, his rosy cheeks turning one shade darker before he turns and jumps into the driver’s side.

I wave him off as he reverses out of the driveway and makes his way down the street back towards the direction of the airport. I make a mental note to thank Gabriel for arranging my ride and for paying for it too. I hadn’t thought about arranging anything until I landed at the airport and realized I didn’t have a way to get here. I was pleasantly surprised to see the limo driver holding up a sign with my name written on it.

On a grateful sigh I turn and face the house. The property stands out yet also compliments the beachy aesthetic. I glance at the colorful flowers that line the walkway to the stairs and take a deep breath of the floral scent.

After wrestling my suitcase up the five steps that lead to the large wooden door, I ring the doorbell and wait, listening to the calming sound of the distant waves. After nearly three minutes of waiting, I try the doorbell again.

Still, nobody answers. I would be worried I was at the wrong house if it wasn’t for the large Saltwater Shredders sign that hung on the door. Deciding the doorbell must be broken, I opt for knocking on the door instead. It’s only five o’clock in the evening. They wouldn’t all be sleeping already, would they?

On the fourth knock, the door swings open to reveal a literal God. He stares at me with his piercing gray eyes that match his gray sweatpants. His abs are on display as a white shirt hangs around his shoulders instead. His hair is slightly damp, hanging over his forehead, and he smells like men’s body wash.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice rough, “we’re closed.”

The door slams in my face, the force blowing my hair backwards over my shoulders. I stare at the door, stunned. I knew he was too good to be true. Men that look that good must have a flaw, and his unfortunate flaw is his rudeness.

“Hey!” I shout, pounding my fists on the wooden door until my hands begin to sting. “Open up.”

The door opens again, and this time he looks me up and down before bringing his eyes to rest on mine while a smirk forms on his stupid face. He crosses his arms over his chest, his arm muscles rippling, as he leans against the door frame, and stares at me expectantly.

“Hi,” I huff, frowning as his smirk turns into a grin before fading away.

He doesn’t reply, instead tilting his head curiously as he studies me. My cheeks heat under his gaze and his eyes flicker to them before he returns them back to mine, a satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“My name is Eliana,” I say, holding my hand out to him.

He stares at my outstretched hand, not making any movements to take it, so I lower it back to my side glaring at him. He isn’t going to make this easy

“Oh, Eliana.” He snaps his fingers as if just remembering something. “Coach Matthews mentioned something about a new social media manager. I guess that’s you then?” he asks, a grin returning to his face.

I give him a stiff nod and watch as he stands up straight, his hand coming to the edge of the door as his chest muscles tighten.

“Look,” he says, the grin dropping away and leaving behind his cold stare. “I’m not sure why Gabriel hired you, but we don’t need your help,” he says, before starting to pull the door shut again.

“You actually do need my help,” I say through clenched teeth, as I slam my palm against the door and shove mysuitcase into the house with my free hand, running over his foot in the process.

“Ow!” he shouts, letting go of the door and hopping backward.

I use the opening to push my way into the house, slamming the heavy door closed.

“You ran over my fucking foot,” he exclaims in disbelief as he glares my way, leaning against the hallway wall.

“I would normally say I’m sorry, but you brought this on yourself,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance, masking the growing guilt from unintentionally hurting him.

He grumbles in frustration as he watches me. “You’re going to be a handful,” he mumbles before pushing himself off the wall and walking up to me, too close for comfort.

My cheeks instantly heat again in response to his closeness, but I keep my eyes fixed on his while he stares down at me, refusing to look away.

“Hmmm,” he says, a playful spark in his eyes as the vibration from his voice raises the hairs on my arms. “And so much fun to play with, it seems.” he almost whispers, his hand coming up to my face as he runs his thumb over my hot cheek.

His cologne fills my senses, a subtle yet captivating aroma that envelops the air around him, reminiscent of fresh mountain air after a rain shower. A distinct blend of sandalwood and cedar anchors his scent with a sense of rugged elegance. His thumb running across my cheek snaps me out of my trance and I smack his hand away from me.

He lets out a breathy chuckle before grabbing onto the strap of my duffel bag and throwing it over his own shoulder. He takes the suitcase from my hand too and heads for the stairs.

“Follow me,” he grumbles.

I feel like I’ve just experienced whiplash. He was a complete ass yet here he is carrying my bags to my room for me like agentleman. I very much expected him to leave me to it, possibly watching from the top of the stairs while laughing as I struggled to bring up my suitcase. Instead, he carries them up for me without a word.

---