The beach behind our villa was fairly deserted the next afternoon, which meant it was quiet enough for me to read. If I could get lost in a textbook maybe I could forget what had happened with Roman last night. A few hours of sleep had cleared my head, reminding me that starting something with him was a terrible idea. First, he was a teacher. Second, I had just broken up with Brett. Third, he was a teacher!

I told myself to chill, but while that command usually worked on Jillian and Cassie, I couldn’t swallow it myself. We were both consenting adults. We’d gone to bed together. We weren’t hurting anyone.

Yet.

This whole thing had heartbreak written all over it, which is why it would be better if una semana turned into una noche. We’d had one spectacular night together, why ruin it by dragging things out for a week?

“Why are you smiling?” Cassie asked, a note of suspicion in her voice. She’d slept until late morning, and Roman had been long gone before she got up. Keeping last night to myself was not only the smart move, but it would prevent her teasing me all day long.

I shrugged. “I do remember some high school Spanish.”

Despite our lack of beach chairs, the sand was soft, hot, and welcoming beneath me as I settled down with Cell Biology and Genetics. Cassie stripped off her sundress, revealing a tiny bandeau bikini top and something that barely qualified as bottoms.

“Aren’t you going to put sunscreen on?” I asked her.

She raised an eyebrow over the rim of her sunglasses. “No, Dr. Stone, I’m not. I wanted to get some sun, remember?”

I could hear the challenge in her words. She suspected I wanted to give her a lecture on skin cancer, but I knew she was trying to pick a fight. Cassie had some rage building up inside her, and I suspected I knew why.

“Have you talked to Trevor?” I asked, switching topics to what I knew was on her mind.

“Absolutely not. I’m not even sure I can get service down here.” She shrugged like she didn’t care and rolled onto her stomach on the beach towel.

I knew she was lying. We’d both texted Jillian earlier to touch base with her, and we were probably going to get smacked with some serious roaming charges, too. But we definitely got service down here, which meant Trevor hadn’t called or texted. Because Trevor was an ass. Reminding her of that wouldn’t put her in a better mood though.

“When did you talk to him last?”

Her voice was muffled by the sound of rolling waves. “Let’s see, when I was throwing his shoes at him.”

She’d left that part out of her story before. Of course, her initial version was a barely coherent string of curses punctuated by sobs. “You threw his shoes at him?”

“And his pants and his shirt and a lamp.”

“A lamp?” I couldn’t help but be impressed. Apparently Cassie had a little bark behind her bite.

“He’s a piece of shit,” Cassie said. “I would have kept throwing things at him but I decided I was above it. Right now, I’d rather just enjoy the fucking sun and not think about the son of a bitch.”

“Fair enough.” I flipped my textbook back open and uncapped my highlighter.

“You are in the middle of fucking paradise and you’ve got your nose stuck in a book.” She hadn’t even rolled over to confirm this, she just knew me that well.

“I can’t get behind.”

“The semester hasn’t even started yet. You just aced your finals. Take a break.”

“Think of it this way. I have to get ahead,” I explained.

“How’s the view from up there?” she asked. “You’re soooo far ahead of me! Is it sunny?”

“Looking good.” I smiled to myself as I found the spot I’d bookmarked.

“Too bad you’re missing the view from right now.”

“That’s deep,” I told her absently. “You should write a book. I bet you could give Deepak Chopra a run for his money.”

Cassie giggled as she laid her head on her arms, which were already kissed with sun. No doubt she’d look like a beach goddess by the time we headed back to Washington. I pulled my beach hat further down to keep my nose from burning. I wasn’t born to tan. I was born to freckle and roast.

“So what happened last night? How did I get back?” Cassie asked in a soft voice. I heard the reservation in it as if she didn’t really want to know.

“Don’t remember, huh?” I tossed my textbook on my towel, abandoning it for a minute to have a much needed heart-to-heart with my best friend. Even with the cushion of sand, it thumped ominously.

“Uh-oh. Jess put down her book. This can’t be good.” She rolled to her side to look at me. Her gaze tentatively probed my face for confirmation.

“You gave Jillian some competition in the drama department,” I told her.

“That bad?”

“You ripped apart about twenty magazines at a bodega.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked in a confused tone.

“They were bridal magazines mostly.”

Cassie’s face disappeared in her towel as she wrapped her arms around her head. I suppose I had to wait on my lecture until she resurfaced. After a few minutes, she sat up, facing me. “Go ahead.”

“Go ahead and what?”

“Lecture me,” she said. “I deserve it.”

“I’m not going to lecture you,” I lied. It wasn’t as satisfying when she called me out on my intentions in advance.

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, fine,” I said without missing a beat. “I know you’re upset about Trevor and what happened, but giving yourself liver damage and nearly getting arrested”—

“I almost got arrested?” she interrupted.

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re lucky Roman saved the day.”

Cassie held up a hand for me to pause. “Professor Markson was there?”

It was too late to backpedal, but it was probably better that she knew he was there. Admitting it meant there was less chance that she’d find out the whole story. I relayed last night’s events to her in full, save for Roman and I’s extra-sexticular activities, which I conveniently forgot to mention. Cassie was already obsessing over me hooking up with him. I didn’t need to fuel her fire.

“Shit. I’m so, so sorry, Jess. I’m being a crazy bitch about my break-up while you’re barely batting an eyelash about Brett.” She flopped down, throwing an arm over her eyes in defeat.

“I wasn’t in love with Brett,” I confessed. I had suspected it when his proposal sent me running for the hills, but I was certain about it after last night. Either Roman Markson was the rebound of the century or I wasn’t all that broken up about my ex-boyfriend.

“Why the hell did you waste so much time with him?”

“Brett was nice,” I said.

“Was he good in bed?” Cassie asked.

I measured my response. “He was adequate.”

“You wasted a year dating someone who was nice—translation: boring—and adequate in bed—translation: he had a 50% success rate.”

“Success rate?” I had a feeling I didn’t want to know, but I asked anyway.

“At making you see heaven,” she said. “I bet you are one helluva faker.”

I hardly registered her last comment, because the simple thought of sex had sent me back to last night. Cassie was right. If I’d known a man could make me feel like that in bed, things never would have gone on so long with Brett. I grabbed for my bottle of water, suddenly feeling overly hot, and took a deep swig.

“So did you nail Roman last night?” Cassie asked.

I choked. Water was becoming dangerous in all its forms. Once I recovered, I glared at her and picked my book back up. Cassie laughed at me as she stood up, brushing sand from her bare legs.

“I’m going in for a swim. Want to come?”

“Terrified of the ocean,” I reminded her.

“That water—” she pointed to the shore—”is as warm and calm as bathwater. At least wade in with me.”

I shook my head, and Cassie threw her hands in the air. I watched as she jogged across the scorching sand and dived into the water like she was on Baywatch, much to the delight of several men on the beach.

After I dragged Cassie out of the water, we hit a local market to stock up on supplies. She might think all we needed was wine, but I’d realized last night how important food was. I’d left my phone at the hotel, not certain I wanted to be reachable. My night with Roman had been spectacular, and we’d agreed to enjoy ourselves this week, but reason and common sense had shown up with dawn’s early light. A fling with a teacher was a bad idea.

“I cannot believe I got my period. Life is unfair.” Cassie continued to search the shelves for tampons, which were the only item she hadn’t packed apparently. “I’m in paradise, completely single, and out of commission.”

Personally, I thought that might be a good thing. It felt crappy to even think it, considering I was already on the rebound, so I kept the thought to myself. I snatched a single blue box from the lowest shelf and held it up triumphantly.

“Hola.” The familiar sound of Roman’s voice raked over my skin, and I bit my lip. Then I realized I had a box of tampons in my hands. Shoving it at Cassie, I spun around and came face to face with Roman and his grandmother. Her eyes crinkled at the edges as she appraised me in a knowing way. Apparently she hadn’t missed his absence last night.

“It’s nice to see you again. I mean, since the airport.” I tripped over my tongue, nearly giving myself away. The good news that Cassie would assume that I was embarrassed for crushing on Roman. I’d tell her about what had happened between us someday, but not while she was nursing her own heartbreak. “We were getting food.”

“Amongst other things,” Cassie said dryly. She made no effort to hide the box of feminine products, and she was probably wondering why I was acting like such a freak about them. Neither of us were the type to act weird over bodily functions. What she didn’t know was that I didn’t want Roman to think I was closed for business.

I guess I did want to see him again.

“Do you cook?” Aba asked.

Cassie let out an ear-splitting laugh before shaking her head. “Oh hell no. But it doesn’t matter I’m on the all-alcohol diet.”

“A few things,” I blurted out before adding, “but not well.”

My best friend shot me an incredulous look. Clearly, she thought I’d lost it. Before she could point this out, Aba stepped in. “If you need to eat, you come to my house.”

“Oh, you don’t have to cook for us,” I said.

She laughed in a near perfect imitation of Cassie before winking at me. “He will cook for you. It’s his job.”

That proved that she definitely knew that Roman and I had been playing house last night. Next to me Cassie seemed confused, but she didn’t ask for an explanation. “I’m going to pay for these as soon as I find the limes.”

“I will show you.” Aba took her arm and began to lead her away. “Roman will help Jessica find what she is looking for.”

“She caught me sneaking in,” he said sheepishly once they were out of earshot. “I didn’t tell her where I was, but…”

“I think she figured it out. Will she tell Cassie?” I noticed how his forehead wrinkled in what was either concern or indignation and hurried to explain. “With her break-up, I thought maybe she wouldn’t want to hear about us.”

His lips twitched as if the idea of us was amusing. “Aba respects my privacy, even if she can’t help gloating. She told me I should marry you after she met you.”

“Marry?” I repeated with a gulp. There was that word again. I couldn’t even avoid it while having a fling.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to drag you to the chapel, but I would like to see you tonight.” A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead, and I resisted the urge to brush it back. Every molecule of my being wanted to touch him. Agreeing to see him was a surefire way to ensure that I did.

“Roman, I…”

“Can I see you tonight?” Roman’s voice was low. A shiver ran up my spine at the urgency in his voice.

I knew I should say no.

I said yes instead.