I can't do this

"No."

The word left my lips before I even realized I'd said it.

Luncindra froze, her brows knitting together in confusion. "No?"

I took a deep breath, leaning back against the bench. "Yeah, no. I can't do this."

Her confusion turned into something more like frustration. "Can't do what?"

"This," I said, gesturing vaguely between us. "You, me… all of it. It's not going to happen."

"Seriously?" Her tone was incredulous. "You're backing out now?"

"Yep. Call me unreliable or whatever, but this just isn't working for me." I stood, grabbing my towel.

The sudden shift from sitting to standing made the heat rush to my head, and I swayed slightly before regaining my balance.

"Rhiannon," she started, her voice a mix of disbelief and irritation.

I held up a hand to stop her. "Don't text me. Don't call me. Don't show up with volleyballs or sauna reservations. Just… don't."

With that, I pushed open the door and stepped out into the cooler hallway, the sharp contrast in temperature hitting me like a slap to the face. My footsteps echoed as I made my way down the corridor, my brain running at a million miles an hour.

What. Just. Happened?

Okay, let's rewind. One hour ago, I was lying on a beach thinking about nothing but a tan and maybe flirting my way into some fun vacation memories.

Then along came Luncindra, tall and gorgeous and somehow managing to make sweaty volleyball look like an Olympic sport for gods. That had seemed like a fantastic idea at the time.

But then, out of nowhere, she shows up. The tattooed goddess with the piercing purple eyes and that whole I might break the law but you'll thank me for it vibe.

And suddenly, Luncindra who was charming and attractive in her own right just didn't hold a candle to her.

I groaned aloud, my voice echoing off the empty hallway.

Why does this always happen to me?

Like, really. Who else could manage to torpedo a perfectly good sauna fling because they were too busy obsessing over someone else? Someone who, by the way, I knew absolutely nothing about.

I didn't know her name, her room number, or why she'd even been in the sauna to begin with. Was she lost? Did she just like barging in on steamy moments and then disappearing like some kind of tattooed fairy godmother?

Another groan escaped me as I stepped out into the open air, the cool evening breeze doing little to calm the storm in my head.

I had no idea where she'd gone, and now all I could think about was those tattoos. The ones I'd only caught glimpses of but could still picture perfectly.

There had been one trailing down her neck, disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt. Another wrapped around her wrist, intricate and dark.

And her hands don't even get me started on her hands. The rings, the way her fingers had brushed her hair out of her face when she smirked at me…

Ugh!

I stomped my way toward the hotel, my sandals slapping against the pavement in a rhythm that matched the frustrated mantra in my head. Why are you like this, Rhiannon? Why can't you just focus on one person at a time?

But no. Apparently, my brain was like a magpie, easily distracted by the shiniest and in this case, hottest new thing that crossed my path.

By the time I reached the lobby, I felt like I'd run a marathon. Not physically, of course, but mentally? I was exhausted.

The staff at the front desk smiled politely as I passed, and I tried to muster a smile in return, though it probably looked more like a grimace. I avoided eye contact as I headed toward the elevator, praying I wouldn't run into Rowena.

The last thing I needed was my sister's commentary on how quickly I'd managed to screw up my perfectly laid plans.

The elevator ride to my floor was agonizingly slow, giving me way too much time to stew in my thoughts. By the time I stepped out and made my way to my room, I was in full-blown rant mode.

Maybe she's not even staying at the hotel, I thought bitterly. Maybe she's some local who just likes to mess with clueless tourists like me. Or maybe she's an international criminal who can't risk sticking around for more than five minutes.

I snorted at the thought, unlocking my door and stepping inside.

Yeah, because that would be my luck. Fall for someone who's literally wanted by the law.

I dropped my bag on the floor and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was quiet, the muffled sound of waves crashing in the distance the only thing breaking the silence.

For a moment, I considered texting Luncindra just to see what she'd say.

But no. That ship had sailed, and honestly? Good riddance.

Pulling out my phone, I scrolled aimlessly through my messages, my thumb pausing over the blank screen of my inbox.

And then, as if the universe had decided to throw me a bone, a new message popped up.

It wasn't from Luncindra.

Nope. It was Rowena. Because of course it was.

"Get down here NOW. If you don't, we're starting without you, and don't come crying when you miss the show. Tonight, the chef is cooking in front of us. You don't want to miss this, trust me. MOVE IT."

I groaned, my head flopping back against the pillows. A big part of me wanted to ignore her and stay right here, wrapped in my own misery and the cooling remnants of the sauna fiasco.

But if Rowena said the words "trust me," it usually meant something mildly interesting or entertaining enough to make fun of later was about to happen.

Still, I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

I dragged myself off the bed and into the bathroom for a shower. If Rowena wanted me downstairs so badly, she could wait. And wait.

The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the sauna's lingering humidity and whatever was left of my pride.

My brain buzzed with fragments of the day: Luncindra's failed attempt at charm, the tattooed goddess interrupting my not-so-hot sauna rendezvous, and Rowena's uncanny ability to be the biggest pain in my ass, even when she wasn't physically present.

I stayed under the spray longer than I needed, letting the heat soak into my muscles. For once, I didn't care about the time.

If they wanted to eat without me, fine. I'd order room service later and enjoy the silence.

Eventually, I stepped out, wrapping myself in a plush towel before rummaging through my suitcase. I pulled out a deep red dress, one that clung in all the right places, and paired it with simple sandals. A swipe of gloss on my lips, and I was ready.

Well, as ready as I was ever going to be.

The dining room buzzed with chatter and the clinking of glasses as I walked in. I scanned the tables, searching for my family, but Rowena and our moms were nowhere to be seen.

Of course, they'd left. Because why wouldn't they?

I sighed, already contemplating turning back around when my gaze landed on the figure near the open kitchen at the far end of the room.

And oh. My. Gods.

It was her.