I should have known dinner in the Maldives would be fancier than any dinner I've had before. I thought steak kabobs for Everett's birthday dinner was fancy, but this...

Tiki torches surround the Holden's private cabana on the beach, and local entertainers dance and blow fire while we eat. Thankfully, the menu is something I can understand, and I'm scarfing down my pineapple chicken while Everett devours his shrimp. To the left is one of the many restaurants they have at the resort where other guests are currently dining, but when you're Cameron Holden, it's not a surprise we're getting a cabana to ourselves.

"I beat his ass on the jet skis today," Connor announces proudly. "Mason didn't even have a chance."

Mason snorts. "Just wait until tomorrow. I guarantee you'll be eating your words."

Both of them are already sporting tans from being in the sun for two hours, and I'm sure I'll get a tan tomorrow, but I'm very satisfied with how Everett and I chose to spend our time before dinner. In my opinion, getting railed in a private pool is far better than jet skiing.

"Why didn't you come?" Mason asks Everett.

Connor barks out a laugh. "I was going to invite him, but from the sounds coming from their hut, it didn't seem like they wanted to be interrupted."

My face turns red as a tomato when Everett throws a green bean across the table.

"Honestly, it's a miracle you even make it out of the house," Maddie seethes, snatching the green bean beside her plate. "Manners, please! Is that too much to ask for?" She casts a wry glance my way, her eyes softening. "I'm sorry, honey. Ignore him."

"Sorry," Cameron adds.

"It's fine," I manage to reply, and thankfully we're interrupted when the waiters bring more drinks. Being around a big family is still taking some getting used to. I'm not shy, but the Holden family can be intimidating, especially when they have no filter.

Everett's hand rests on the back of my chair, and when a margarita lands in front of me, I recognize the man from earlier with my luggage. His nametag reads Manik, and he can't be much older than me. He smiles, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.

"Thank you," I say. His brown eyes crinkle slightly at the sides from his grin, and the waiter beside him stares at me in an odd way. They probably aren't used to their guests acknowledging them. It's not like any of the Holdens thanked them for taking their luggage. They're probably so used to being treated this way that it slips their mind, but I make a mental note never to forget where I came from if I'm ever rich in the future.

"Anything else you need?" He asks.

Everett tenses beside me and raises his eyes to the man over the rim of his glass, cold as ice. "She's fine."

"Everett," I hiss. "Stop. He's just being nice. It's his job."

With another dip of his chin, the man spins on his heels to return to the restaurant, and as soon as he's out of sight, I'm still furious, swallowing down a rush of anger.

I knew Everett was a dick to other people; that much is obvious, but to be blatantly rude to someone trying to do their job? I mean, come on. He's acting like a territorial Neanderthal for no reason. The man wasn't hitting on me.

But now isn't the time to discuss it, not when we're in the middle of dinner with his family.

The conversation will have to wait.

"Cameron?" A man in his mid-sixties taps on the cabana's entrance, and Cameron rushes to his feet to wrap the man in a hug. "I heard the locals saying you were staying here for the week. What's the special occasion?"

Cameron points to Izzy and Mason, who both give the man polite smiles. "My daughter's getting married. What about you? Small world, huh?"

The man with prominent features and gray hair thumbs behind him and says, "Family vacation. My wife got tired of me being a workaholic and needed some time off. Brought the whole family with me."

Cameron waves him in. "Well, come in! Dine with us. There's plenty of room." Then he looks at the confusion on my face and explains, "This is my friend, Brian Calloway. He's the owner of the California Cyclones."

Connor almost spits out his drink. The California Cyclones is one of the most prestigious professional teams in the hockey league.

"Are you sure?" Brian glances around the room at us. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"You aren't!" Maddie urges, motioning to the empty seats at the end of the table. "It's been too long since I've seen Jasmine! We have a lot to catch up on."

Brian turns around and waves at his family to follow, and after another minute or so, three beautiful women enter behind him. All of them look identical from their matching red hair and freckles plastered across their noses, and if it weren't for the few gray hairs their mother bore, I would have assumed they were triplets from the work she's clearly had done to her face.

All three women are gorgeous. The daughters look as if they could be supermodels sporting bikinis that cling to them just right, little sarongs gripping their waists. I seem to shrink back inside myself when one of the daughters takes the chair on the other side of Everett. She sends him a coy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey, Everett. Good to see you."

Have they met before?

Clearly, they have.

The other daughter, who is slightly taller than her sister, reluctantly sits next to Connor and lets out a huff. "This is stupid. We were supposed to go to the beach bash where all the other teenagers are."

Connor raises a brow. "Is my company not enough? And when were you going to tell me your father was the owner of the California fucking Cyclones?"

"Hardly," she replies through gritted teeth, "and we went to school together, Connor. That's not an invite into what my father does for a living."

Connor scoffs and takes another gulp of his drink.

I'm racking my brain, but I've never seen these two at our school. Then again, thousands attend it, so perhaps we were just never placed in the same class.

"Where is Aria?" The sister beside Everett asks. "Did you text her to meet us here instead of the bash? She had to go back to her room to grab her phone. She forgot it."

The one beside Connor rolls her eyes. "I never understood why you guys were friends. She's probably going to stay in her room all night because she's lame. She hates shit like this." Waving her hands around at the private hut, I can't help but cringe. Aria and I would probably get along.

"Forget it. I'll text her." She pulls out her phone, texting said friend before she looks up at Everett again. "You grew your hair out? It's longer at the top."

The woman has the nerve to run her fingers through it to prove her point, but it doesn't matter if Everett moves out of her grasp to take another sip of his drink. This girl put her hands on him when she clearly sees me sitting right beside him. It's enough to make my lip curl.

Any previous thoughts I had about Everett being jealous fly out the window because here I am with my knuckles turning white on the table, absolutely fuming over someone I haven't even been formally introduced to yet.

For all I know, Everett and this girl could be like family, but when she looks at him... Her face running over all of his features... God, I'm furious. I'm livid.

"Ugh, of course, Aria is ditching. She said she'll come meet us at the party when we leave here. I don't know why I'm surprised," the girl I currently can't stand says with a pouty lip. "Everett, will you be joining us?"

He shakes his head, and I'm pleased when his hand grasps my knee underneath the table, giving it a squeeze. "I've got better ways to spend my night than partying and drinking myself into oblivion."

The girl pokes her head around Everett to finally acknowledge me, eyeing me up and down in a way that's not necessarily snarky but lets me know it's odd to see me next to him. I'm not like the other girls he's been around, and although he's told me it was to distract him from thinking about me, I still feel self-conscious. Especially since I'm sitting next to a literal red-headed Barbie. She's stunning, and I'm...

"I'm Esme," she says, offering me a smile. "Are you and Everett...?"

"Yes," I finish before Everett has the chance to reply. I'm not going to put a label on it, not until I speak with him about it first, but let her assume what she wants. There's no harm in that.

"Oh." Her eyes flicker with disappointment. Then she glances at Everett and says, "Well, I'm happy for you. Although, it'll suck not being able to end these vacations how we normally would."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Everett's jaw clenches slightly, and he clears his throat after his glass of scotch is drained. My margarita remains untouched, but I don't have the stomach anymore to drink it.

"I'll be more than happy to appease you, Esme," Connor offers. "I'll leave you more satisfied than he ever did."

Oh my god.

Everett screeches his chair back, motioning towards the entrance of the hut. "We're heading back," he says without an ounce of regret or apology. "See you guys tomorrow."

I'm unsure what exactly he's feeling right now, but it can't be good. Even mad, he still helps me out of my chair, and since I'm in wedges, I'm struggling to keep up with him. "Everett, wait!" I plead when we reach the docks. He whirls to face me, and his eyes are filled with...hurt, it seems. "What's wrong?" I ask.

He rakes a hand through his already disheveled curls, letting out a laugh of anger. "Do you realize how unfair it is to me when you say things like that?"

"Say things like what? What are you talking about?"

"Back there!" He points to the beach at the private hut, exasperated. "You let her think we were dating, and for the life of me, I can't understand how you don't see it."

"See what? I didn't realize it would be so torturous to let someone think we were dating, Everett. My apologies."

He groans, rubbing his hands over his face, and then he stalks off down the winding docks towards our hut. It's pitch black outside, aside from the torches lighting our way, and my palms are sweating as I slip my wedges off and chase after him.

That feeling I always get about things reaching the surface for us? It's overwhelming me in full force now. I can feel the tension rising inch by inch, and that sentence, those words I haven't verbally expressed, are desperately close to flowing out of me.

"Were you guys close?" I ask when I finally reach him. "Did you not want her to know we were—"

"What?" He asks. "Didn't want her to know we were what, Emery?" When I remain rooted to the spot on the docks, he stops walking and stands in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. "You can't say things like that because they give me hope, and, at this point, I don't know if I should be hanging onto it or not. I'm trying to give you time and the space you need to sort out your feelings, but hearing something like that... Having you insinuate we're dating only because you're jealous when it seems like I'll never be able to call you mine is a cruel, sick joke—one I don't want to be part of."

I furrow my brows in confusion. "You think you'll never be able to call me yours?"

The humidity in the air is thick between us, the tension rising as I scan his eyes, deciphering the words he isn't saying as I fight the truth I've known for so long.

This man has been obsessed with me since we've met. His family has known and kept it a secret, and all those hidden glances during classes, the spewed sentences of jealousy, and the pure hatred he put up between us were just a mask to hide how he truly felt. It hid how much passion there was between us, and if I had just dug deeper... If I had looked further behind the mask...

"Why would you?" His voice falters, and when I take a step closer, tears are welling up in those icy blue eyes of his. "I'm not Liam. I'm not the guy who would do anything for a stranger. I'm not the guy who will take his shirt off his back for someone in need. I despise most of the human population, and I make that very clear. I'm heartless in so many ways... Selfish more than I am giving, and if Liam came back tomorrow, I wouldn't be mad or surprised if you went back to him. He's the better choice. That's partly the reason I haven't told you how I honestly felt because I will never compare to him." He tosses his hands up in frustration, his voice catching as he adds, "I don't even come close."

My heart snaps into two when all of his insecurities tumble out of his mouth. He's panting from the admission, refusing to meet my stare, and for a minute, the roaring of the waves is the only thing that fills the silence between us.

"It is agonizing to be in love with you while simultaneously being unaware of how to show it," he whispers.

I take another step closer to him, shaking my head in disbelief. How can he think he doesn't know how to love me when that's all he's done since I showed up at his house? Making me dinner every night, buying me the movies my mom and I used to watch, lending me his car so I didn't have to walk alone, dancing in the kitchen to put a smile on my face, making my Hollywood Era dream a reality...

But the truth is, despite all the acts of his love I've been so blind to, Everett has had me falling for him long before I stepped through his front door.

Everett has always pushed me to be a better version of myself. Even this year, when I felt so insecure, he kissed away all of my fears and filled me with a confidence I've never had before. If that isn't love, I don't know what is. Sure, I may have loved Liam, but if there's one thing I'm certain of, I'm in love with Everett. I always have been.

"You're an idiot," I whisper.

He finally lifts his eyes to mine, the breeze ruffling his hair. "How so?"

"If you think..." I blink into the night sky, trying to sum up how I feel for him before meeting his stare again. "If you think for one god damned second that I'd choose anyone but you, then you're an idiot, Everett Holden because it's always been you."

I watch his throat work as he gulps, and his hands are shaking when I'm finally within arms reach now. "You mean that?"

Leaning up on my tip-toes, I press a soft kiss to his lips and murmur, "Every word, but I'm not going to officially say the sentence you want to hear until I speak to Liam in person, okay? I'll feel better if that chapter between us is closed for good before you and I start something serious."

His lips quirk up. "Something serious, huh?"

"Do you have a problem with that?"

He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "No, but maybe I should have girls hit on me more often if it means getting you to open up like this."

"Mmm..." I trail my fingertips down his chest, stopping when I reach the band of his shorts. He shivers beneath my touch. "I didn't like seeing someone else touch you tonight. Not one bit."

He arches a brow. "Why, Emery?'

I pull his head down to bring my lips to his ear, and he inhales a sharp breath when I whisper, "Because you're mine, and right now, I want you to take me into our bedroom on this beautiful island and do all of those things to me that Esme was desperate for."

His hands are on my waist now, his grip tightening. "Oh, yeah? And what would that entail?"

I smirk devilishly. "Well, I'm yours now, so I think that means as soon as we make it to the bedroom, I have no intentions of being in bed. My knees are dropping right onto the hardwood floor, Everett, and you can use me however you please."

"Christ," he mutters. Stepping away from me, he throws me over his shoulder, and I'm laughing my full head off at his impatience as his long legs stride down the docks to our hut. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"Do your worst," I tease.

Author's Note:

AHHHHH

I LOVE THEM SO FREAKING MUCH
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM?

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