The oddness of the moment strikes me and my stomach squirms like a trapped mouse. Here I am, having a companionable exchange with Graeme where we actually agree on something—not five minutes after we ogled each other practically naked. Something tugs at me, like a fishhook lodged in my heart, and I don’t like it.

I clear my throat and take half a step back. “You don’t need to wait for me, you know. It’s not like we’re on this trip together. You go your way, I’ll go mine.”

His jaw tightens and he doesn’t speak for several heartbeats. “That’s what you want?”

“It’s for the best.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Great.”

“Fine.” He steps toward the stairs at the same time I do. We bump hips, and it’s like bouncing off a wall. I press my lips into a thin line.

“After you.” He motions politely.

There’s so much Midwestern nice going on I want to scream. “Have fun on your hike,” I toss over my shoulder as I pass him.

“Have fun working.”

I nod briskly and hustle down three flights of stairs. Graeme follows. I make a left at the dining room. He’s still behind me. When he turns down the carpeted hallway leading to my cabin, I shoot him a glare. “Are you following me?”

“Why would I follow you?”

“As part of a devious plot, no doubt.”

“Why do you always assume I’m plotting?”

“Experience.” I walk faster. He speeds up. When I reach my cabin, I whirl. “Seriously, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting my life jacket,” he says slowly, pivoting to point over his shoulder to cabin 209—the cabin right next door. “See, no plots.” Lifting an eyebrow, he disappears inside.

The booking department put us in adjacent cabins? Oh, someone has a sense of humor.

I let out a long breath once the door is closed. I can’t let Graeme distract me. I have to direct 100 percent of my focus toward nailing my proposal, and that starts now.

Walsh is still asleep, so as quietly as I can, I store our snorkeling gear in the closet and change out of my bathing suit. When I unplug my laptop from where it’s been charging on the desk, the innocent beige wall that I’d barely registered before captures my attention.

Because Graeme is directly on the other side.

Having adjacent cabins feels… illicit. Like I’m a kid at sleep-away camp who found a secret way to sneak into the boys’ bunkhouse without getting caught by the counselors. I could slip next door anytime I want… or vice versa…

I shake my head hard. Right, the only way I’m sneaking into Graeme’s cabin is to boobytrap it in his sleep.