Chapter 22

I nearly burst into tears as we step off the plane in Honolulu. Not to be dramatic or anything, but I saw my life flash before my very eyes during that random storm. A highlight reel of my favorite moments and biggest regrets played in my head, which was a bittersweet reminder of all the things I’ve left unfinished.

“You did it.” Rafael’s praise makes my heart want to burst.

Seriously? We’re swooning over a simple “you did it”?

“You were such a big kid,” Nico taunts.

I give him a little shove. “Not all of us can be as brave as you.”

“Obviously, because I’m awesome.” His big, goofy grin draws out one of my own.

We follow his father to the baggage claim area. Nico and I play a racing game together on his portable gaming console while Rafael waits with all the other people near the ramp. Both of us want to pick our favorite Formula 1 driver as our playable character, so three quick rounds of rock-paper-scissors determine that Nico gets Elías Cruz. Nico ends up winning both races we play, in part because I’m distracted by everything happening around us.

Rafael and Nico’s checked bags are some of the first to come out, so we have to stand around for my overweight suitcase to make its appearance. I knew it was a bad idea to let my mom and Willow pick my outfits for the trip, but they strong-armed me into choosing clothes that wouldn’t give me a heatstroke in Hawaii.

Five excruciatingly long minutes later, Rafael lifts my suitcase off the conveyor belt without straining a single muscle, although he does rip the heavy tag off the handle. “What did you pack in there?”

“A body.”

Nico giggles while Rafael makes a face.

“Kidding! Just a few things.”

“Like?”

“Five pairs of shoes, a couple of books, Nico’s metal detector, seven of his action figures, and half of my closet.” So, I’m an over-packer. Sue me.

“Are you moving?” Rafael asks in that dry voice of his.

“I’m seriously considering it because there is no way I’m getting on another plane.”

Nico gasps. “But what about getting to Kauai?”

“They don’t have ferries?”

Nico looks up at his dad for an answer.

Rafael shakes his head. “No.”

My hope dies, along with Nico’s excitement.

“Don’t worry, Ellie. We don’t have to do a helicopter or plane ride. We can stay here in Oahu instead.” Nico covers my hand with his.

If this little guy didn’t already own a big part of my heart, I would have gladly given it up for him in this moment because this trip is supposed to be about him and everything he wants. I’m not going to let my fear of planes get in the way of that and him creating special visual memories while he can still enjoy it.

I give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “That’s sweet of you, but there’s no need to change our plans. If I survived the flight here, I can make it through those shorter ones.”

He wraps his arms around me with a smile. “You’re the best and bravest person I know!”

Compliments from not one but two Lopez men have me feeling emotional. I must be getting my period soon or something, because there is no other reasonable explanation for the overwhelming swell of emotion taking up real estate in my chest.

The back of my neck heats, and I look up to find Rafael staring at me with a strange look on his face.

Thank you, he silently mouths, making my chest get all tight and tingly yet again.

It is the same feeling I had on the plane while he was doing everything in his power to make me feel better. My anxiety was too big to handle on my own, and I clung to the first person who could help me feel safe. But now, without my fears fueling my actions, I’m left with a grim reminder of our circumstances.

I can like Rafael as a person, but it can never go further than that because of the little guy who clings to my legs like another appendage. For him, I’m willing to do just about anything, including pushing his father away for the sake of keeping my job as his nanny.

Because I have a feeling that if I let someone like Rafael get close, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from wanting the same in return. From wanting more.

And that will never happen, so I need to get my confusing feelings under control and remember who is important here.

Nicolas Lopez.

Rafael places the hotel key over a sensor, and the elevator whirs to life as we begin our ascent.

“What floor am I on?” I ask as the numbers keep climbing.

“You’re staying in our suite,” he says in that annoyingly bland, nonchalant voice of his that I’m quickly realizing is used whenever he is defensive and uncomfortable.

Good, because he isn’t the only one.

We may share a house, but a hotel suite is different. Back in Lake Wisteria, Rafael’s place is the size of a palace and provides us with enough space to steer clear of one another. If I don’t want to see him, I can simply stick to a different floor.

A hotel suite is going to be tiny in comparison. I won’t have anywhere to hide from him.

Unlike me, Nico seems quite taken with the idea based on his bright smile. “Yay! We can stay up all night watching movies, telling stories, and playing games!”

Rafael shoots him a good luck trying that look.

“Um…” I bite down on my bottom lip.

Rafael stares at me for so long, I’m sweating by the time he speaks again. “If you’d feel more comfortable having your own room, I can ask my assistant to book one.”

“No! Stay with us! Please.” Nico puts his palms together. “It’ll be fun. I swear.”

I should take Rafael up on his offer and stay in a separate room, but my resolve crumbles when I remember how much he paid for five nights here. For two hundred grand—yup, that’s right—I thought we would at least have separate suites to call home for the next few days.

It goes against my entire character to ask Rafael to pay even more, regardless of his billionaire status.

“All right,” I concede.

Nico pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!”

I face forward and focus on the numbers flashing above the elevator door.

It’s just a suite, I tell myself.

The doors slide open, revealing a massive penthouse.

To think you were worried about sharing a small space.

I take a shaky step out of the elevator and into the massive living room overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The light wood tones, expensive white furnishings, and tasteful splash of blue accents immediately put me at ease, blending coastal chic decor with luxury living.

Growing up with a store manager for a mother and a music tutor for a stepdad meant my family booked RV spaces and chain hotels, not five-star “suites” that have a chef’s kitchen, sauna, and a private balcony with a hot tub that could comfortably fit ten people.

All those details are amazing, but nothing gets me more excited than the white grand piano facing the lagoon below. I can’t begin to describe the serene view of the shoreline, but it is different from our lake back home. Whitecaps as far as the eye can see. Colorful umbrellas and towels lining the sandy beach. Palm tree fronds swaying with the breeze, casting shadows over pedestrians stopping to take in the view.

A sense of tranquility washes over me like one of the waves crashing against the shore, and I want to write about it.

I want to write.

I’m not sure what the song would be about, but the feeling is familiar, and one that makes me happy I packed my guitar after all.

My fingers itch for a pen. “This is…”

“Amazing.” Nico presses his face against the bifold glass door that takes up the entirety of the wall.

“I spy something blue,” I say, using our game as a way to check in on his vision. Asking him bluntly only leads to his discomfort, so I learned long ago to use games like “I spy” to gather information instead.

Nico’s smile widens. “Waves I can’t wait to ride!” He does the shaka sign, making me laugh.

“You got it.”

He strokes his chin. “I spy…something green.”

“Palm tree fronds?”

He shakes his head.

I scan the beach looking for something green before spotting it. “Trash cans!”

He presses his forehead against the glass and squints. “No.”

“The bushes?”

A dark look passes over his face. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Um…” Fuck.

I don’t have the heart to tell Nico he is struggling with color discrimination again because of his diagnosis. In a panic, I glance over my shoulder, hoping Rafael answers my distress signal.

Our eyes connect for a brief second before he walks over and stares down at the shoreline. “Hm. Maybe Ellie is the one who needs to get her eyes checked because I think I figured out the answer.”

“Maybe!” Nico laughs, making Rafael’s eyes widen, along with mine.

Some of the pressure in my chest lessens when Rafael answers, “Beach towels.”

“Yes!” Nico holds his hand up for his father to smack.

Rafael looks stunned for a second before he returns the high five.

“Oh. The beach towels.” I fake a huff.

“It’s okay, Ellie. You’ll win next time.” Nico pats my arm with a smile before abandoning us.

“Thank you for helping,” I whisper to Rafael as Nico veers off to the left and runs into the only room on that side of the suite.

“He’s had trouble discriminating between pink and orange before, but green and blue is new.”

“I know.”

His frown says more than words ever could.

“I call this one!” Nico shouts from the room before letting out a small giggle.

Rafael’s sullen mood seems to fade away at the sound, his son’s happiness acting like a healing balm for his aching heart. Gaining control over his emotions is no small feat, and I’m overwhelmed with pride at him obviously pushing aside his own worries to make his son happy.

“That’s supposed to be mine,” Rafael grumbles.

“Too late!” I hear rather than see Nico climbing onto the bed and jumping on it. “All mine now.”

Both Rafael and I look to the right side of the suite, where there are two doors a foot apart.

“I guess those are ours,” I say in a cheery voice.

Rafael surprises me by silently disappearing behind the door on the right, leaving me with the ocean-view room.

I can’t help the squeal that pours out of me when I walk inside. The panoramic window facing the lagoon is great, but not as amazing as the four-poster bed with a gauzy, white canopy fit for a fairy tale.

I battle between wanting to drop onto the bed with a sigh—airport germs be damned—and exploring the opulent en suite bathroom.

“If you’re still unsure about sharing a suite, I can look into another room.”

“Are you crazy?” I turn on my heels to find Rafael leaning against the dresser near the door.

“Depends on whether Mercury is in retrograde or not.”

My lips curl as a small, amused huff of air escapes me. “You’re funnier than I thought.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I’ve yet to decide.”

He doesn’t laugh, but his eyes brighten with amusement.

If I’m not careful, I could become addicted to the way he looks at me, especially during times like these when his guard lowers enough for me to peek at the man hidden behind the grumpy exterior.

Rafael breaks the stare first as he tucks his hands behind his back. “Anyway, if you change your mind, I can have Ariel book a room for you.”

I shake my head. “And have you spend another hundred thousand dollars here? Absolutely not.” I’m not about to take advantage of him like his ex-wife does. I’ve overheard enough conversations to know how much she affects Rafael.

Instead of looking relieved like I had hoped, his gaze hardens. “Money isn’t an issue.”

“Clearly, if you’re dropping two hundred thousand dollars on a hotel room we’ll barely spend time in.”

“Nico only deserves the best.” His voice has an edge to it.

“I don’t think it gets better than this.” I counteract his grumpiness with a soft tone.

“You think so?” His hesitancy shouldn’t be endearing to me, but after spending eight months thinking he had the emotional range of a brick wall, I can’t help enjoying the bits of humanity peeking through.

“Yup. You’re going to have a hard time convincing him to leave in five days.” With all the fun activities Rafael planned, like beach days, deep-sea fishing, and a hike to a famous waterfall, Nico is going to adore this place.

“It’s you I’m worried about, not him.”

“Me? Why?” I ask.

“There is only one way off the island, and you happen to be terrified of it.”

“But with you holding my hand, I can accomplish anything!” I clasp my hands against my chest and bat my lashes.

He scratches at his beard with his middle finger. “Dinner reservations are at seven.”

He turns to leave my room, but not before I catch the hint of a smile on his face. If things go my way, it will be the first of many during our trip, so long as I keep doing little things to draw them out.