Love Unwritten (Lakefront Billionaires, 2)
Chapter 45

I search my luggage for the one-piece swimsuit I bought strictly for this trip. The lime-green one I wore that night in the hot tub was supposed to be for special—isolated—occasions, while the black one I bought is more family-friendly.

While rifling through my suitcase, I come across a swimsuit I most definitely did not pack, so I pull out my phone and text Willow a photo.

ME

Seriously?

WILLOW

Are you going to wear it?!

ME

No!

WILLOW

I have a feeling you’ll be changing your mind pretty soon.

It takes me a few minutes to finally understand Willow’s text.

ME

Please tell me you didn’t get rid of my other swimsuit on purpose.

WILLOW

Of course not!

WILLOW

But I’m not about to tell you where I hid it either.

I spend the next couple of minutes searching for the swimsuit, only to get progressively more frustrated when I can’t replace it.

WILLOW

Just put the pink one on first. If you still hate the idea, then I’ll tell you where I put the other one.

With a sigh, I reach for the modest but bright one-piece I bought on a whim. The back dips low, showing off the Bend but never break quote I had tattooed along the curve of my spine. The straps are dainty, with short ruffles fanning out in a way that flatters my shoulders and neck.

The color brings out my new tan and pairs nicely with my blond hair, but I feel ridiculous wearing something so frilly and soft with the number of tattoos and scars I have.

I snap a photo of myself in the pink swimsuit and send it to Willow.

ME

This was a terrible idea. I’m never going shopping with you again.

WILLOW

DAMN.

WILLOW

You’ve been hiding those hips underneath mom jeans and hoodies this whole time?

WILLOW

Also, did you get a new tattoo on your hip bone? I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.

ME

Yes, and stop changing the subject.

WILLOW

Sorry, your boobs distracted me for a second.

I knew I shouldn’t have bought a few swimsuits from this one boutique in town that we love, but at the time, Willow’s endless compliments gave me enough confidence to buy three bathing suits from this year’s summer collection inspired by different sorbets.

That should have been my first clue that this was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t resist the pink one-piece with feminine sleeves. It was too cute to pass up on. I had intended to save it for a boat day on the lake with our friends, but Willow clearly had other plans.

ME

I look like a doll.

WILLOW

Hell yeah. Do you think Rafael will want to play with you?

She adds a winking emoji.

With a groan, I toss my phone on the bed. I wrap a sarong around my hips to give myself some coverage. The mesh see-through material doesn’t hide much, but it makes me feel more comfortable in my own skin, so it’s staying for now.

Do you trust me? Rafael’s question from earlier bounces around in my head.

Seeing as I’m about to step outside dressed like this, the answer is painfully obvious.

With one last glance in the mirror, I head to the living room with my head held high. Nico is distracted by whatever game he is playing on Rafael’s phone, but his father is completely, irrevocably focused on me.

His eyes darken as they slowly trail down my body. Not knowing his thoughts drives me mad, and I’m tempted to break the spell and ask him for his opinion.

When he gets to my legs, his hooded eyes flick back up to mine before he traces his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

For a brief moment, I wish we didn’t have to fight our attraction. That we could just exist without any kind of issue holding us back.

As much as I love Nico, I’m slowly developing serious feelings for his father that can’t be ignored, no matter how hard I try, which can only lead to one thing.

Trouble.

Rafael pauses our walk toward the beach to pluck a hibiscus flower from a bush. I’ve quickly grown to love Nico and him competing for the prettiest flower, although the one Rafael picked today may be the best yet. Not because it’s my favorite color—bright pink—but because of the way he looks at me while he tucks the flower behind my ear.

“Thank you for trusting me.” His finger grazes the shell of my ear before he pulls away.

Goose bumps spread across my skin. “I’m going to miss receiving all these flowers when we go back home.”

His head tilts. “You are?”

“Yeah. I’ve been saving them all.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to have something special to remember this vacation.”

He makes a face as if he wants to say something, but then Nico tugs on my hand.

“My turn!”

I squat so he can place his flower on the opposite side of my head. He takes his time, making sure to double-check that it won’t fall out of my hair.

When he is done, I drop a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, little rock star.”

He grins.

The back of my neck prickles, and I glance up to replace Rafael looking at us. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He says that out loud, but the look of pure yearning on his face?

It says everything.

Last night, when he learned about my song and the scars associated with it, I thought Rafael was being kind for the sake of it. He said my scars are beautiful because they’re a part of my story, but I’ve heard a variation of those words before. I’ve had a few boyfriends who all seemed to feel the same way, but then I caught them staring when they thought I wasn’t looking or wincing when they brushed their hands over them. Felt them hesitate whenever they kissed my thighs. Saw them handling sharp objects differently whenever I was in the room, acting like I might grab a blade at any second and pick up where I left off years ago.

But today, I feel the truth behind his words, and I’ve never felt more beautiful in my whole entire life.

It doesn’t take long for Nico to notice my scars. We haven’t even made it onto the boat for our snorkeling expedition yet, and I already caught him staring once, although he was quick to look away with flushed cheeks. Thankfully, he refrains from asking me about them while we are getting settled on the boat, but he sneaks glances every now and then during the ride out to the snorkeling area.

At one point, while I’m popping a Dramamine pill in my mouth, he pulls Rafael aside and whispers something into his ear while I pretend not to notice. I knew it would happen, but Nico knowing about my past fills me with more trepidation than it ever has before.

I don’t want him to look at me differently or be afraid of me. The anticipation of what could happen next ruins my excitement about seeing sea turtles in the wild, and I spend most of the boat ride stressed about what Nico will ask.

It’s not until we reach our destination and Rafael excuses himself to use the bathroom that Nico finally gathers up enough courage to ask me the question I’ve been dreading.

“Ellie?”

“Mm.” I school my features as I look up at him.

“Are you happy?”

I blink a few times as I register his question. “Happy how?”

“Like in general. Do you feel good?”

“Mostly, yes. Not everyone can be happy all the time because that’s impossible, but I feel good most of the time.”

“That’s nice.” He readjusts his snorkeling mask until his glasses sit comfortably against his face.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Papi told me sometimes, when people are really, really sad, they hurt themselves instead of others.”

So that’s what Rafael and Nico were whispering about while I pretended to be fascinated by the ocean. Rafael and I agreed on that response back at the hotel, but I still feel anxious at the idea of Nico knowing.

I take a deep, cleansing breath. “He’s right.”

“So you did hurt yourself?”

My eyes fall toward my lap. “Yes.”

“Because you were really, really sad?” He frowns.

“I was, but I don’t do that anymore. I talked to someone who helped me get better and taught me what to do instead.”

That seems to soften the tension in his shoulders. “I’m sad you were hurting that bad.”

My heart feels like it’s shrunk to half its size. “I’m better now. I promise.”

He holds out his pinkie. “Do you swear?”

I lock my pinkie finger with his and promise before saying, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Papi told me it’s okay to worry about people we love because that means we care.”

My eyes mist over. “I love you too.”

“More than sour gummy worms?”

I nod. “And strawberry-lemon fizzy drinks.”

The plastic flippers on his lap fall to the floor as he jumps up and pulls me into a hug. “I love you more than pianos, superheroes, and Duke Brass.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of love from such a little guy.”

“Papi says I have the biggest heart he knows.”

Second–biggest heart to exist, right after his father’s.