“Who? What now? Where am I?” She thrashes around and then stiffens as if she was just pulled up by a string. “What’s going on? Is there a fire?”

“What?” I ask. “Jesus, Myla, you’re just in a hotel room.”

She moves her hair out of her face and stares back at me. She takes a moment to take in my swim trunks, sandals, and bare chest before her eyes meet mine. “Are you going scuba diving?”

“Does it look like I am?” I ask.

“I don’t know what you do partially nude.” She flops back down on the bed and sinks into the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Ten in the morning. You missed breakfast.”

“Ten?” She sits back up. “How is it ten?”

“That’s what the clocks say.”

“Well, Jesus, you shouldn’t let a girl sleep in until ten. That’s just irresponsible.” She flings the sheets off her, stands, and one of her boobs is completely hanging out of her tank top. She glances down, and then back at me. “Uh, under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t care about the wild beasts that are boobs in a tank top at night, but I’m just going to tuck this right back in.” She shifts her boob and covers it up, but not before I got a good eyeful. I’ve missed those girls.

“Okay, yeah, well, I’m going to head down to the pool.”

“Ah, hence the bathing suit.” She moves by me and to the bathroom. “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Won’t it be weird if I don’t?”

I pull on the back of my neck. “Yeah, probably.”

“Okay, so give me a second, and I’ll be ready. Just going to brush my teeth, pee, wash my face, and throw my hair up into a ponytail.”

“Okay,” I answer as she grabs a suit from her suitcase and slips into the bathroom.

I take a seat on the chair in the corner of the room and let out a deep breath. Today is day one of convincing Myla that we belong together. That we’re better together than apart. And even though we’re talking to each other and not trying to steal batteries or any of that bullshit, I know we have a long way to go. I need to gain back her trust first. I need to make some lifestyle changes and remember what’s most important in my life. And that’s her.

After a few minutes, the bathroom door opens, and she walks out in a navy-blue bikini that leaves nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, to the imagination. The strings on her bottoms cut high on her hips, leaving only a small triangle between her legs. And the top matches the triangle between her legs, small and barely covering enough.

I swallow hard and watch as her full hips shift, her breasts sway, her stomach contracts with every step she takes. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

If we were in a different place, I would be peeling that swimsuit off right now and not letting her leave this hotel room until I felt like I’d fully claimed her, marked her so the world knew who she belongs to.