Lex setting up a day of spa treatments, sending me flowers, buying me a dress—which is totally unnecessary but so thoughtful—and arranging a dinner date is beyond sweet, but it raises a lot of questions. I need to squelch any ideas that this can be more than just two people having sex. Getting comfortable with him isn’t a good idea. I’m worried it’s already happening, that it started when we sat next to each other on a plane for all those hours, and that I want it to continue. I shouldn’t even be considering anything beyond my time here, but I am.

I’m amazed at how much lighter I feel emotionally today, despite everything. These simple, but thoughtful gifts and all this pampering make me feel appreciated in a way I never did with Armstrong.

Sex and drinks is one thing, sex and food and gifts and thoughtfulness make me want to swoon, and that’s dangerous. Swooning leads to feelings, and I’m only in the beginning stages of dealing with what Armstrong has done. The annulment papers haven’t even made it into his hands. I’m aware that by seeking comfort in Lex physically, making him my escape from reality, I’m transferring my emotional state onto him. Either way, tonight we should set boundaries.

I don’t even know if I can or should tell Ruby about this. It adds another layer of complication. I don’t reply to her messages yet, she’ll have just finished her performance for the night. She’s usually hopped up afterward, and that means she’ll want to talk and I’m not sure what I should or shouldn’t say.

I grab a bottle of water from the bar fridge and head out to the deck so I can enjoy the fabulous view and the sunshine. The volcano rises out of the pale blue water, vibrant green against the cloudless sky. I wonder if the people who live here ever worry that one day a switch will flip and that sleepy volcano will awaken and destroy all this beauty. Sort of like Armstrong did to our relationship by putting his penis in Brittany’s mouth.

No matter how hard I try, when I’m alone like this, I can see very clearly how I ended up in this situation. I tried to make the idea of Armstrong into something real.

Only too soon will I be home and forced to face the mess that is now my life. At least with Lex I can play pretend, and he seems to be willing to be part of the fantasy.

Tonight I’m going to be my best, uninhibited self. I have plans to deep throat Lex since I haven’t done that yet. I’d go straight for anal as a big double middle finger to Armstrong for being so vanilla about sex, but Lex has a lot of cock and I think I’m going to need to work my way up to the stainless-steel butt plug before I can honestly make an attempt with his man dangle. I’d be willing to give it a shot out of more than just sheer spite, though.

Unable to relax thanks to nerves and giddiness, I grab my makeup case from the bathroom and bring it outside. Creating a video tutorial with a volcano background is exactly the kind of distraction I need. The last time I put up a makeup tutorial was just before the Halloween soirée, which was months ago. My makeup wasn’t particularly exciting, but I’d had some fun ideas and it had been months since I’d uploaded a video. Mostly I just wanted to see if I still had any kind of audience. The video garnered over a quarter of a million views in twenty-four hours.

I spend the next half-hour making a short “Island Makeup” tutorial. Then I spend another hour editing it down to a reasonable seven-minute video. I’ve learned that’s about the amount of time an average person is willing to spend on things like makeup prep. I’m in the middle of reviewing the video post-upload when a shadow passes behind me. I startle as warm fingertips caress my shoulder and yank the earbud free.

I press my hand to my heart and exhale a relieved breath when I realize it’s just Lex. “You scared the crap out of me!” My entire body warms at the sight of him. I don’t ever remember having this kind of reaction to Armstrong. Sure, he was Prince Charming handsome, but Lex is just . . . dark and sexy. Charisma wrapped in a perfect package.

He isn’t wearing a suit like he was this morning. Instead, he’s paired khakis and a white golf shirt with casual shoes, showing off the vibrant sleeve tattoo that’s usually hidden under button-downs and suit jackets. His hair is perfect, combed neatly to the side, the dark strands yielding to his whim. I’d like to yield in the same way, which is very unlike me.

His smile holds as much humor as his eyes hold heat. “I knocked first, but you clearly didn’t hear me. What’re you doing?”

I turn back to my iPad, the video still running. Embarrassed, I rush to turn it off, but Lex snatches it before I can.

“It’s nothing. I was just messing around.” I make a grab for it, but he holds it out of reach.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. What is this?” He unplugs the earphones and my voice becomes audible.

He holds it over his head, still trying to watch it. I grab onto his shoulder and attempt to propel myself high enough to take it back. “Give it!”

“I’m trying to listen. Is this a tutorial?”

“It’s not important.” I jump again.

Lex glances down at me. “You wanna take your bikini top off and do that again?”

I pinch his nipple through his shirt. In one swift move he spins me around, pulling me into him with my back to his chest, arms pinned to my sides. His lips are at my ear. “Settle down, Anarchy Amie, why don’t you want me to see this?” He lowers the iPad so I can see myself on the small screen.

“I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s just a hobby.” I cringe and avert my gaze, not wanting to see my own face reflected back at me with someone else watching, too. It makes me feel oddly exposed.

“Why is it stupid?” The video ends and my most recent tutorials appear on the screen. “How many of these are there? Holy shit, this one has a million views.”

“Some of them are a few years old.”

He releases me and takes a step back, his expression curious. “Why are you embarrassed about this?”

I can feel how hot my face is. “I don’t know. I don’t want to seem vain.” In social circles like ours, people love to be critical, and some of the negative comments are rather scathing in the feed below the videos.

“How would this make you seem vain?” He scrolls through the videos, clicking on one I made when my mom was sick while I was in college. It had taken a bit of convincing for her to let me make that video, but it was one of several in that series that garnered a lot of views. Lex’s eyes go wide as he watches. “This is your mom?”

I nod.

His voice is soft when he asks, “What kind of cancer?”

I swallow thickly, thinking about how scared I was when she finally told me. It had been at the end of my third year of college. I hadn’t been home in months and she’d encouraged me to stay in New York during the fall semester, citing trips and spa vacations. But when I finally came home for a visit at Christmas I realized she’d been keeping me away on purpose. She was in the middle of a course of radiation treatment. “Breast. We were really lucky to have caught it early. Stage two.”

“That’s good.” His words are genuine, as is the understanding look in his eyes.

“It was. They were able to perform a lumpectomy and remove it. She’s been cancer free since. She had all these holiday events while she was undergoing treatment. She didn’t want everyone to know, so I did her makeup. No one would’ve guessed there was anything wrong, which is what she wanted. She just didn’t want the focus to be on her illness, you know?”