Billionaire Best Friend [Complete]

17. Gracie

My heart was an untied balloon, blown up for the heck of it and let go to watch fly through the air without an exact destination in mind. And it'd been like that since our plane landed two hours ago at Cyril E. King Airport, we boarded the Rolling Hills car that awaited us, and they dropped us off at the only five-star resort on the entire island.

Sutton stood next to me in his slacks and dress shirt. I was having a hard time seeing him as CEO of Pure Plate and the man I swam, grew up, and met for monthly dinners with his family in the city. Those few minutes his hand was tangled in my hair spiked an electric current down my back, a flame whose trail was my spine. Warmth licked at the memory of every inch where his body firmly pressed against mine.

But what had me wanting to jump out of my skin was how I wanted him to do it all over again. I wanted to be back in that plane, his hard chest against my curved back, just for him to take charge and tell me exactly what to do.

Jason never did that but had expected me to know exactly what he wanted. I catered to the things he liked without questioning why I felt slighted. Instead, I told myself that I liked making him feel good, and that wasn't necessarily a lie. I loved giving him what he needed, but I also wanted what I needed as well.

Here, on this island, I was a different woman. I wasn't a podcast-editor for my cousin. I hadn't recently broken off a relationship. It may have only been for a week, but I was taking it and making the most of it. It would've been a disservice to myself if I didn't.

Which is why I sidled up close to Sutton's side when we got out of the car and swooped my hand through the crook of his arm. My stomach was having an absolute fit, replicating a front yard in suburbia that was littered with fireworks, each one going off when it wanted and soaring in crisscrossing directions.

Every time I thought about Sutton on the plane and how he distracted me, my emotions swooped and rose, and my skin lit with goosebumps.

Staff had come for our luggage and were currently transporting it down to our private oceanfront villa while Sutton and I enjoyed the winding, nature-infused walk down to our 2-person vacation home. The path was shrouded with meticulous plant life, but it didn't hide the fact that we were on a sprawling 100-acre hillside plot overlooking Cowpet Bay. The bluest waters I'd ever seen went out for miles, and I was just a teensy bit giddy that this would be our view for the next week.

Sutton was a statue taking in the sights next to me. A man who hadn't spoken more than a few words to me since 'the incident'.

"I can't get over this," I told him. "Look how gorgeous it is."

The views were incredible, and the energy the Caribbean gave off bubbled up inside of me. It was as if I was a new woman in a life that I never saw coming.

He looked down at me while shifting his arm so he could take my hand in his. He gave it a light squeeze as we followed the trail. It covered my concern enough to continue on for a couple more minutes of walking.

Our villa was just up ahead, but on our way, we managed to get a decent look at the resort—the on-property restaurants, one of which was a promised 3-star Michelin delight, along with a myriad of infinity pools, saunas, and cabanas.

"That's one word to describe it."

"Totally worth flying over the ocean for."

"You'd have been fine if you never looked out the window."

I nudged him with my elbow. "I would've been better if you had stayed with me rather than holed yourself up for nearly an hour."

The heat of the day blanketed over me as the heavy sun hung high in the sky. "I wasn't holing up."