What a fucking asshole.

What a piece of garbage.

Why? Why? Why? 

The anger surges in time with my footfalls as I stalk up and down the rises in the trail.

Today was supposed to be a good day. Today I was going to try and get my shit together. Today I was going to come clean to Charles about my main purpose for being on this fucking island in the first place. He’s finally relaxed, finally open, finally a human instead of a robot in a business suit, and it was going to be the perfect time to talk about it.

Now I’m too furious to do anything but hike.

I never should have answered the phone. It was a mistake, and I knew it, but I did it anyway. Why? Because I’m sick to death of Rolly’s calls and texts. I thought if I picked up once, he’d leave me alone. 

Like that’s going to happen now.

The nerve of that guy is unbelievable. He asked me if I wanted to coordinate moving efforts with him. Coordinate. Moving. Efforts. Like we were roommates who decided to part amicably after a good run. Oh, and by the way, if I don’t come back, he’s going to have some trouble affording the rent, so if I want to keep the place…

I don’t want to keep the place. I’d rather see that apartment burn to the ground. 

Most outrageous of all? The suggestion that we keep splitting the rent for another month so we can both get back on our feet. 

I huff and puff up another hill and down to the bottom, coming to the end of the loop again. From here, I can see Charlie’s suite. He’s not on the balcony anymore. He must still be inside, probably wondering why the hell I walked out on him.

Perfect timing, really. I spend every moment trying to get him to loosen his grip on that damn company, and the moment he does, I turn into a raging monster with a ridiculous past.

I tuck my chin and power up another hill, my feet digging into the path. How far have I even gone? I have no idea. In the city, I like to track my runs with my phone, but the phone is now on the floor of Charlie’s suite, abandoned there like the offensive piece of plastic and metal that it is. 

Walking out on Charlie like that was going to happen eventually. He’s the same kind of person Rolly is. They’re both out to make things better for themselves, and sooner or later, it becomes obvious that I’m standing in the way.

The thought feels slimy, even in my head, but it’s true. Even if Charlie doesn’t believe it now, what’s he going to do when it’s time to take the plane back to the city? There are a few options, I guess. We could keep screwing around together.

Or...

Or there’s no other option. The pain in my chest feels like a heart attack. As much as I might want Charlie Cash—as much as I might love the feeling of being held in his arms, of the way his eyes light up when he looks at me—there’s no way it’ll work out. I’m too much of a mess, and eventually he’ll get tired of this life, this endless chase for the next party to take my mind off the things that hurt.

God, I’m still so fucking mortified about that phone call. About the entire thing, really. If I wasn’t trapped on an island, I’d keep running forever and never look back.

I suck in a deep breath that sounds like a sob and pick up my knees. At least the stitch in my side is distracting me from the broken heart, the broken heart I have in advance of—

“Hey!” His voice comes from nowhere, slightly above me on the path. I try to stop, my body jerking to the side, but it’s too late, and I crash into him, his muscled torso completely unyielding. My heart thuds once, hard, and then races on. I’m losing my balance on the uneven trail, falling toward the ground, but Charlie catches me, holding me upright with an arm around my waist. “Josie, what’s wrong? What are you doing?”

“Running,” I gasp. “Feeling like shit.”

“Because of your ex?” Charlie’s breathing hard, too.

“Did you chase me here?”

“Yes,” he says, drawing me to the side of the trail. “You’ve been going around that loop like a hamster in a cage for—” He pauses, catching his breath. “—for way too long. I had to come the opposite way, and—” Charlie waves toward the rest of the trail. “Talk to me.” He steps back and brushes a loose lock of hair away from my face. “I can’t stand to see you like this.”

“I lied to you,” I burst out, and his forehead wrinkles.

“About what?”

“I’m not just here to have fun,” I admit. “The thing with Rolly—well, it started this whole thing in my life, and I have to—” The words are sticking in my throat. Tell him, Josephine. Spit it out. “I have to put my entire life back together.” It’s a half-truth, and I fucking know it, but I can’t say it to him. Not when he’s come out here like this. Not when he’s trying to make me feel better when I’m at my worst.

Charlie laughs, a low sound. “Sweetheart.” His tone is so gentle I could cry right now. “We’ve talked about the ex. I know why you’re here. And if you’re worried about what’s going to happen when we leave—” I look up into his eyes. They’re lit up with something that looks an awful lot like love, and it’s killing me. “Don’t.”

He bends down and kisses me, and just like that, all the angst in my body falls away, replaced by a rush of satisfaction.

“Did you think for a moment that I would let this end here?” He comes in for another kiss. I can’t say a word. “Not a chance. Not a chance, Josie. You don’t have anything to worry about.”