How to Honeymoon Alone

“Join me?” he asks.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I slowly pull out the chair. “Yeah, thanks. I’m not used to seeing you here.”

“I decided to check out the buffet,” he says.

I look meaningfully at the lack of a plate before him.

He chuckles. “I had pancakes a while ago.”

“You’ve been waiting for me?”

“I might’ve been,” he admits and puts down the tablet. I catch the headline. He’s reading the Chicago news. “You’re up later than usual today.”

“Yeah, I wanted to sleep in.”

He nods. Color rises up his cheeks, but the eyes on mine are as steady as always. “Right. I’ll come with you, I want another cup.”

We fill up our plates. Mine with pancakes, fruit, a piece of toast, and a little bowl of acai and granola. His, another large cup of coffee and a croissant.

Nerves turn over in my stomach as we sit back down. He’s the one who broaches the topic, leaning back in the chair.

“About yesterday,” he says.

I shake my head. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have answered your phone like that. It was crossing a line. But I’m glad you explained the situation afterward. Thanks for that. For clarifying, I mean.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says. He hasn’t shaved today, either, and the beard is growing in, accentuating his sharp jaw. “Eden, I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you.”

“No, I get that.”

“She’s the last person I want to talk about while I’m here,” he says. “Especially with you.”

“Especially with me?”

“Yes. An attractive woman, fun conversations, and a paradise island. Why would I want to bring up my ex?”

I grimace. “I’ve spoken a lot about mine.”

“Yeah, but I enjoy hearing you talk.” He stretches his neck, like he’s shared too much. “Anyway. She’s not my fiancée anymore, Eden. I’m not like your ex.”

“No, I know,” I say, nodding again. “I realized that.”

“Just wanted to make that clear.”

“Mm-hmm.” I take a sip of my juice. “Got it. And you’re not, by the way. You’re super different.”

“Super different?”

“Yes. Well, so far, at least. I don’t know what you’re like outside of fancy resorts and catamaran cruises, you know.”

He snorts and reaches for his croissant. The sleeves of his button-down are rolled up, the linen fabric slightly rumpled. Combined with the thickening facial hair and the unstyled strands, he looks even more handsome. Manly and relaxed.

I attack my pancakes to keep from attacking him.

“Perhaps I’m different back home,” he says. “But aren’t you?”

I consider the question. “Yes. I usually wear more clothes.”

He laughs. It breaks the tension between us, resets the score, and I smile down at my food. It feels like a small victory every time I get a laugh out of him.

“What a bummer,” he says.

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “Yeah. I bet the men of Pinecrest are real sad about that.”

“They should be,” he says. He reaches down to his tablet and locks the screen, turning it over.

I take a deep breath. “Yesterday, I reacted pretty strongly by needing time alone. Some of it was that call, but it was also… I got a bit overwhelmed.”

His eyes are locked on mine. Go on, they say.

“It’s been a lot, you know? Meeting you, going on excursions, and… staying in.”

“It has,” he says.

“I’ve enjoyed all of it,” I say quickly. “A lot. And then, I realized we only have two days left, and the real world is waiting for me when I get back…”

A smile hides in the corner of his mouth. “Right.”

“Anyway, I overreacted, and I want to make sure we make the best out of our remaining time here.”

“Good,” he says. “Because I agree completely.”

I smile widely at him. “Awesome.”

“So, what are your plans for your last days on the island?”

My hand goes to the guidebook, lying beside my phone on the table. There are a few pages earmarked that I had hoped…

Phillip clocks the motion. “Ah. What does the holy book say?”

“There’s tons to do here,” I say. “As I’m sure your fabulous travel planner told you.”

He nods. “There’s an appendix to my itinerary with a history of the island.”

“No way?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”