When we get back to the villa, everyone has already turned in for the night, so we make love in his bed. He might not call it making love, but I do. There is no other definition that suits our speed, tenderness, and level of intimacy. He falls asleep on his side with one arm slung over my waist and his head between my breasts. I watch him sleep, his breathing even and smooth in his slumber.
When I wake up in the morning, Max is gone. Heâs left a note on his bedside table, which reads, âI fucked up the other night. I didnât wrap up. We canât do that. If youâre not on the pill, take these. M.â
Beside it, there is small blue box with two pills inside it.
Looking at them, I feel a small knot start to grow in my stomach. Even though him taking care of a mistake we had both willingly participated in is sweet and responsible, Iâd have liked him to have given the pills to me in person.
Because this way makes me feel a little empty inside.
Iâll be fine.
Rolling around in his soft sheets, I tangle myself up, stroking the slight divot his body has left in the mattress. Itâs Clayâs buckâs party today, which means I need to pack an overnight bag and move into the other villa so they have privacy for whatever shenanigans they have organised. Unease slithers into me; I hate that it does.
I take the first pill. The other is to be taken in twelve hours, so I set an alarm on my phone.
I spend the day alone by the main pool, drinking cocktails and reading all about the origin of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Swim. Eat. Sunbathe. For an hour, I practise my choreography for tomorrow night under the cabana. It doesnât bother me that people are watching. Itâs no different from doing yoga or tai chi in the park on a Sunday or working out at the gym.
When it gets dark, the staff begin lighting citronella lanterns. The thick, hot atmosphere relaxes my muscles and I roll onto my belly, nestling into the cushions.
Slowly, I fall asleep and dream of Max touching me. His hands against my skin. His fingers between my legs. His tongue on my nipple. I can almost feel him, becoming so needy and wet that I wake up. When I open my eyes, itâs completely dark and Iâm panting.
I stare down at my phone, laying on the sunbed beside me, flashing with a message.
I read a text from a mystery number and frown at the screen.
Unknown Number: Youâre a beautiful dancer.
Sitting straight up, I scan the area for Max or anyone whose eyes might be on me. I shift in the bed and feel a sudden urge to find the villa. I text back, hoping that itâs Max. Hoping that heâd stopped by for a while to watch me dance by the poolside. Hoping that there is nothing sinister about this message.
Cassidy: Who is this?
Collecting my things, I ask a lovely Balinese lady to show me where we are staying tonight. As she leads me down the steps, I peer across the valley that drops between the two mountains. Tropical trees seem to disappear down into the dark and then reappear on the other side, climbing back up in a similar formation. When I stumble on a step, I decide to focus back on the path.
A rock rolls behind me. My neck prickles and a tingling sensation moves through me. I spin, squinting up the steps and to the side and through the trees â nothing.
Youâre being paranoid.
I follow quietly behind the lady to the new villa, my pulse a little faster than normal. Once inside, I push the latch across, locking the door. âFlick?â I look around the villa. Itâs much smaller than the other one. âStacey?â
Flick bounces out from around the corner. âHello, my little love.â
âFrick.â I exhale. âMake a noise. Donât just jump out at a girl.â
âHuh?â She tilts her head at me. âYou on edge, little sister?â
âNo. Iâm fine. Whereâs Stacey?â My voice gets louder as I wander away from her. Heading into the Balinese-style outdoor kitchen, I slump down into a wicker chair.
âSheâs out and about,â she says, following me. âAnyway I was hoping you and I could have a little chat.â
My shoulders sag. âOh no. Letâs not do this.â
âAbout Max . . . and you.â
âOh my gawd.â
I wish we were more like guys sometimes. She would offer me her fist. Iâd bump it.
âDid you tap that, sis?â
âOh, you know I did!â
âCan we just fist bump or something?â I plea.
âWould you like something to eat?â She grins at me. âI canât imagine youâve slept much lately and probably need to keep your energy levels up.â
I chuckle once. âSubtle.â
âIâm sorry, Cassidy.â Sliding into the seat opposite me, she leans back in her chair. âIâd love to just talk boys, but Iâm nervous now that itâs actually happening. I didnât think much of your crush before.â
I blink at her. âMy crush?â
âHow long have you been fucking Max?â
âJebus, please transition me slowly into the conversation.â
âI donât think we need to fliff-flaff.â
âI like a bit of fliff-flaffery.â
âCassidy. You were supposed to tell me about your first time. Itâs meant to be under the covers with the lights off and in a bed. Itâs meant to be slow and awkward, and we are meant to laugh about it after.â
I bite my lip to stop the grin thatâs tugging at it. âWell, it definitely wasnât that.â
âWhat was it like then?â
I beam for a split second. âInsanity.â
âHow long have you two been fucking?â
âFine.â I groan the word. âWe had sex for the first time a few weeks ago.â
âYou still canât say the word âfuckâ? Cassidy. If youâre doing it, then you should be able to say it.â
âWe donât. We have sex. And I donât want to say that word because it becomes too. . . relied upon. For everything. Pain. Pleasure. Excitement. Shock.â
âWhatever. I donât know what to say. I canât believe you didnât tell me. We used to tell each other everything.â
âIâm sorry, Flick.â I smile tightly at her. âItâs just this is our thing, mine and Maxâs.â
âOh my God. This is not a thing. This is just Max Butcher.â
My brows pull together. âAnd thatâs why I didnât tell you-â
âBecause I would tell you the truth.â
âNo. Because youâre not always right. This is a thing. It might just be a kind of friendship, but itâs definitely still a thing.â
She shakes her head slowly. âPlease tell me you arenât in love with him.â
âOkay,â I state. âIâm not in love with him.â
âDonât lie to me. I know you are.â
âYou just told me to tell you I wasnât!â
âI can see it on your little blushing face. I just never thought-â She reaches for the words. âHe would-â
âWhat?â My jaw tightens. âYou didnât think he would want me?â
âGod no! What? Heâs been fucking you with his eyes since your party. I just thought heâd care enough not to fuck with your emotions.â
âHe isnât.â I take a big breath. âHe made it clear.â
âHe just isnât emotionally available, Cassidy. As much as you think he might be, he isnât.â
âThank you for the insight.â
âCassidy, you donât know Max like I do. You havenât seen the things Iâve seen. He has zero respect for the girls he fucks.â
âYou donât know anything about Max. Trust me when I say, youâre the one who doesnât know him like I do.â
âIt sounds to me like you two are discussing Maxâs personal life. Is that right?â We turn to see Stacey standing staunchly in the hallway, both of her hands clutching plastic bags.
Flick glances sideways. âItâs Cassidyâs personal life as well.â
âLeave it, Flick.â Stacey walks slowly over to us and places the bags of groceries on the table. âIf Max finds out youâve been talking to Cassidy about him and their relationship, he wonât be happy.â
She folds her arms across her chest. âWell, I donât really care if heâs not happy about it.â
I murmur under my breath, âPlease continue talking as if Iâm not here.â
Stacey lowers her voice. âFelicity, be very careful. If Max wants Cassidy, then let him have her. Leave it alone. If you get involved in his personal business, youâll regret it.â
âCassidy is my business,â Flick states.
Stacey rolls her eyes to the sky. âNot anymore, sheâs not. Sheâs his. Thatâs how it works in his world.â
I jump up and my chair slides backwards. âYou know what, I have to get some sleep. I have a performance tomorrow. Have fun discussing my life.â
âCassidy, I just worry about you.â Flick follows me down towards the bedrooms. âMax isnât right for you. Max isnât right for anyone.â
âOh my God,â Stacey growls. âIâm leaving before I hear anymore.â The door swings open and then shuts with a bang.
I swivel to face Flick. âYou sound just like Konnor. Max isnât the person everyone thinks he is.â I pause for a moment and we both collect our thoughts before I continue. âHeâs complex and unassumingly intelligent and funny and . . . He has these sporadic moments of being so tender and considerate.â
She smiles. âYou love him.â
I swallow pass a knot in my throat. âI donât know how I feel. Can we not label it?â
Flick nods. âLook, Max is loads of fun. I like him. Youâre just headed for better things . . . You throw yourself into everything you love. I just donât want you to throw yourself into him. You just donât understand. Youâre my hero! You wanted to be a ballerina and you made that happen. I just donât want you to lose yourself in Max Butcher. He has the kind of identity that people get swept up in, losing all sense of self. The girl who ends up with him will need to fit into his box. He wonât change for her. You two are just not compatible. He will never deserve someone like you. You donât need a Max to be someone. Youâre someone on your own.â
âI hear everything youâre saying. I do. I appreciate the sentiment. But Stacey is right. Max is very guarded with his personal life. Heâs very protective over his privacy. I donât even feel comfortable talking about us. Itâs ours. He makes me feel like this thing is just ours. I like it that way. You should just-â
Her mouth opens. âIs that what this is about? Protection?â
I squint at her, finding her revelation expression annoying. âWhat?â
âThis is about Konnor. You were so young and he was so broken. You two were inseparable. Weâd always thought he was looking after you, but sometimes Iâd felt like you were looking after him. After everything that had happened to him at such a young age, it makes me think about how those things had affected you. You want someone who can look after you. You like Max so much because you want someone who can protect you.â
I fumble around for words. âThis is such a bizarre path youâve taken! This has nothing to do with Konnor. I like Max because heâs gorgeous and for all the other reasons Iâve already mentioned. This is about Max. Max and me. And it just doesnât have anything to do with you or anyone else.â
My phone vibrates in my bag as the alarm goes off. Ignoring Flickâs concerned face, I open the door to my room and shut it behind me.
My room for one night only.
I sit down on the edge of the mattress and pull out my phone. Blinking at the display, I read the notification: Itâs time for Plan B.