‘I need to go check on the boat,’ she told herself under her breath as she marched away from the villa—away from him. ‘See how bad the storm damage is to the island too. It’s the responsible thing to do.’
And just because she hadn’t been the responsible one at any point up until now, that didn’t mean it was too late to start, did it?
Her determination and sense of righteousness lasted until she reached the edge of the sea and realised she’d stormed off in the wrong direction for checking on the boat and had no idea what the island had looked like before the storm hit.
Gathering her dusty and windswept hair into a knot at the base of her neck, she pulled it through itself until it stayed in place, held by dirt and sea salt, she supposed. Then her wobbly legs gave way and she dropped down to the sand, her legs folded under her.
She’d thought—she’d hoped—that they’d look at each other this morning and laugh. Brush away the events of last night as a drunken mistake, one that wouldn’t affect their friendship in the least.
But then she’d seen him again and known, without a shadow of a doubt, that however he felt about their indiscretion, she wasn’t going to be able to brush it aside or forget it at all. Ever.
His touch was burned into her skin. His kisses owned her brain now—she could think of nothing else when she saw his lips. And his body... How had she never touched it before? Been touched by it. Felt it sliding against hers—
Because he was married to someone else. Because he loved someone else. Still, even now. Grace was it for him—he’d told her as much.
So what was the point in pretending otherwise? In imagining—even for a moment—that things could be different.
What was wrong with her that a man kissed her and her thoughts instantly went to white dresses and diamond rings?
‘It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, Zoey,’ Grace had told her once. ‘You can have love without marriage, the same way you can have marriage without love. And not every potential relationship has to go the distance. Some are only meant for right now.’
And some could only ever be one stupid, drunken night of passion.
Because, whatever Grace said, Zoey wanted that for ever kind of happiness. And Ash was the last person who could give that to her—because he’d already had it. Lightning didn’t strike twice and all that.
And, even if it could, she couldn’t live with always knowing that she was second choice, that she’d never live up to Grace’s memory, whatever she did. Grace had been a ridiculously hard act to follow as a friend. But as a lover? A wife?
‘There’s no one in the world I’d rather be stranded in paradise with.’
Ash’s words came back to her, as if on the wind, and in them she heard what he wasn’t saying. No one in the world. No one left living, he meant.
Zoey shook her head and tendrils of hair slipped out of the knot and whipped around her face.
Okay. So, however incredible last night had been, one night was what it had to stay. That part was easy.
Forgetting how good it had been...that might be a little harder.
But she had to. For the sake of their friendship.
Dragging herself to her feet, she started back along the beach, towards the jetty where they’d moored the boat the night before. She could already make out a figure standing there, running a hand over the boat. Her heart contracted a little at the sight.
Ash.
Yeah, this might be harder than she’d hoped.
The problem, she mused as she walked, was that Grace had set Ash up as the perfect husband. In her head, Zoey saw the two of them as the ideals of marriage—everything she was looking for. It was only natural, really, that she should fall a little bit in love with him too. Or at least with the idea of him.
That was the part she had to focus on. The idea of Ash as part of Ash-and-Grace, couple of the year, was one thing. The reality was something different altogether.
Ash the idea was perfect, unattainable, a dream—and he belonged to Grace. She could admire and adore him from afar, like she might a movie star. That was easy.
Ash the reality was her best friend, broken by the loss of his family, who needed her as a shoulder to cry on, as a support network and as someone to remember Grace with. She could do all that—she had been doing it for two years.