Feelings

The soft hum of the morning breeze drifted through the sheer curtains, carrying with it the scent of salt, sea, and sun. Grace Lockwood stirred awake, the faint rustling of waves against the shore a soothing yet stark reminder of her unfamiliar surroundings. She inhaled deeply, the crisp ocean air filling her lungs, mingling with the faint hint of lavender from the sheets. The plush white sheets tangled around her legs, cool against her skin, grounding her in the present, yet her mind drifted to Alex's gaze from the night before. She could still feel the weight of his eyes on her, the intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Thoughts tangled with emotions, she wondered what this weekend might truly reveal, her heart caught between fear and anticipation.

Sitting up slowly, she ran her fingers through her tousled hair, her heart still pounding from the intensity of their last conversation. "Because maybe, just maybe, I'm tired of pretending." His words echoed in her mind, blurring the lines between their bet and whatever this was quickly becoming. The vulnerability in his voice had struck a chord deep within her, and she found herself questioning everything she thought she knew about him—and about herself.

Her phone vibrated softly on the nightstand, breaking her reverie.

**Alex:** Morning, Grace. Hope you slept well. Breakfast at 9. Don't be late.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He's impossible, she thought, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The anticipation of seeing him again sent a flutter through her stomach, a mix of excitement and trepidation. She quickly dressed, opting for a simple sundress that flowed around her knees, the fabric light and airy, perfect for the warm coastal air.

The dining area overlooked the private beach, the morning sun casting a golden glow over the waves. Grace walked in, her black silk robe flowing behind her, and found Alex already seated, a cup of coffee in hand. His casual linen pants and partially unbuttoned white shirt made him look effortlessly alluring, and the smug smile on his face told her he knew exactly what effect he had on her.

"Right on time," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I'm five minutes early," she countered, sitting across from him, trying to maintain her composure.

"Still late in my book," he replied, leaning back in his chair, his gaze unwavering.

Grace rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. Inside, she felt a swirl of emotions—annoyance at his smugness, amusement at his teasing, and an unsettling awareness of how easily he could chip away at her defenses. She wanted to maintain her distance, but the warmth creeping through her made it clear that part of her enjoyed their banter more than she cared to admit. Their breakfasts had become an unexpected ritual—filled with playful jabs, stolen glances, and an undercurrent of tension neither of them dared to acknowledge.

As they ate, Alex leaned back in his chair, his hazel eyes never leaving her. "We need to get away," he announced suddenly, breaking the comfortable rhythm of their conversation.

Grace raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "We're already away," she replied, her tone skeptical.

"A real getaway," he clarified, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Somewhere secluded. Just us."

"Why?" she asked, suspicion evident in her voice. The idea of being alone with him in an isolated place sent a thrill of anxiety through her.

He smirked, his confidence radiating. "We're supposed to be a real couple, remember? And real couples take romantic trips together."

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms defensively. "You just want to trap me somewhere I can't escape."

"Exactly," he replied with a chuckle, his laughter infectious.

Grace couldn't help but laugh, despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. "You're impossible."

The private jet was the epitome of luxury, with plush leather seats, gleaming wood paneling, and a soft hum of ambient lighting, but Grace barely noticed. The spacious cabin exuded opulence, with a fully stocked bar, panoramic windows offering breathtaking views, and the faint aroma of expensive cologne and fresh flowers. Yet, none of it registered with her as she wrestled with her swirling thoughts and the undeniable tension between her and Alex. She stared out the window as the city disappeared beneath them, trying to ignore the man sitting beside her. Alex, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, exuding confidence and charm.

"Relax," he whispered, leaning closer, his voice low and soothing. "You'll love it."

"Only when you're not around," she shot back, trying to maintain her composure.

He grinned, the corners of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly charming way. "We'll see about that."

The villa was stunning—white walls, sprawling open spaces, and a private beach that stretched endlessly. Grace couldn't hide her awe as she stepped inside, her eyes wide as she took in the luxurious surroundings. The interior was tastefully decorated, with modern furnishings and large windows that framed the breathtaking view of the ocean.

"Admit it," Alex teased, leaning against the doorframe with a satisfied grin. "You're impressed."

"It's... decent," she said, crossing her arms, trying to play it cool.

"Liar," he shot back, his laughter echoing through the spacious room.

The afternoon was spent walking along the shore, the sand soft beneath their feet and the warmth of the sun on their skin. They shared stories from their pasts, laughing at childhood memories and teasing each other playfully. Alex brushed a strand of hair from Grace's face, their fingers touching briefly, sending a jolt through both of them. Grace found herself smiling genuinely, feeling moments of ease she hadn't expected. Every accidental touch, like when their hands met as they picked up seashells, and every lingering glance, especially when Alex complimented her without hesitation, heightened the tension between them. Dialogue filled the air—light banter, confessions of dreams, and the unexpected comfort they found in each other's presence.

As the sky turned shades of orange and pink, they sat by the infinity pool, the silence thick with unspoken words. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the water, and Grace felt a sense of peace wash over her, mingling with the tension that had been building all day.

"Why are you really doing this, Alex?" Grace asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She needed to understand his motives, to peel back the layers of his charm and bravado.

His playful smirk faded, replaced by a seriousness that caught her off guard. "Because maybe, just maybe, I'm tired of pretending." His honesty hung in the air between them, heavy and palpable.

She blinked, taken aback by his vulnerability. "Aren't you?" he whispered, his gaze piercing through her defenses.

The space between them disappeared, and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. She wanted him to. But instead, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering longer than necessary, igniting a fire within her that she struggled to contain.

"Goodnight, Grace," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, leaving her heart racing and her mind in turmoil. As she watched him walk away, her thoughts spiraled. What was happening between them? She hugged her knees to her chest, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth still lingering from his touch. Was this weekend blurring the lines too much? She couldn't deny the pull she felt, but was it real or just the allure of the moment? Tomorrow loomed with promises of more time together, and she couldn't help but wonder if she was ready for what might come next.

This weekend wasn't just going to change everything—it already had. The walls she had built around her heart were beginning to crack, and with each passing moment, she found herself drawn deeper into the complexity of her feelings for Alex. The stakes were higher than ever, and as the stars twinkled above, she realized that the real challenge lay ahead: confronting the truth of what they were becoming.