The last thing I expected, much less wanted to see, was Bane. Now she was turning one disaster into another.
I glared at her; her profile tinted a couple of shades darker as she must’ve been in beach mode from day one. Her vacation had started before mine by several days. I knew this because that was three blissful days of work without bickering, where her head in a virtual conference box had been missing. Such peaceful, productive days.
She had been reading on her tablet, probably sneaking into work and totally oblivious to the island breeze braiding through her hair, the taste of saltwater in the air, or the call of cold swimming water beneath a hot sun. Why was I not surprised?
“Bane.”
“Yes?” she asked, not shifting her eyeballs a centimeter to look at me.
“What did you just do?”
“I made it quiet.”
I leaned an elbow on the counter, tilting toward her. “You just told my ex that you’re my girlfriend.”
“Yes. That is accurate.”
I pushed out a breath and looked skyward, noting how clear the day was. “You blurted that out to get some quiet, but did you consider that I have to deal with a storm now?”
She finally peered up at me through long, thick lashes. “You played along.”
“In the moment so I didn’t look like a pathetic jackass.”
She frowned. “You’re not a pathetic jackass. You could never look like one even if you tried.”
“You call me a jackass all the time.”
“Ass,” she corrected, returning to her tablet. “I call you an ass, or the more popular variation of asshole. Which you are. Even if you didn’t try.”
“Funny.”
“Thanks.”
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Listen. My ex is here because we were both invited to our mutual friends’ wedding. Which means those friends are here. And my ex has probably group chatted the entire wedding party to tell them guess who’s bringing an unannounced plus one.”
“So?”
“They’re going to expect to see you. What am I supposed to say? That you lied and I went along with it and then have to explain why? Because they’re going to probe for an answer. And I mean, deep space probe. Then I’ll spend the rest of my vacation not only grumpy because my ex is here and shoving her new boyfriend in my face as she passively tries to prove that I’m not relationship material, but now, let’s add the awkwardness slash pity from my friends. I won’t ever live this down,” I ended in a snarl. “I hope you’re pleased. You’ve finally succeeded in ruining me.”
I shoved my chair into the bar, startling Bane as she gave me a deer in the headlights look of ultimate surprise and shock. I almost felt bad. Almost. But she did this.
She didn’t say anything, making it clear that this woman truly was the bane of my existence. I pressed my lips together and nodded, like right, this is how it ends because of course.
We’d bickered since the day I found her drinking alone in her room during her own party. Our run-ins at work had been awkward, forced, the tension between us palpable. Maybe there had been a move to breach the topic of that night, an apology or explanation or some type of closure, but it never amounted to anything.
There was just something about this woman that made me want to clam up and be pissy for the hell of it. She wanted me to argue with her. Rile her up the way she riled me up. Sometimes our tempers got the better of us, but I swore to the coding gods she enjoyed it. Sadistic woman.
I was already at the elevator, not knowing where to go since I didn’t have a room, when Bane called out, “Sunny! Wait!”
Bane had her tablet tucked against her chest, strands of purple hair slipping out from behind her ears, rushing toward me. The second I spotted her, she slowed down as if she hadn’t just been sprinting at me like a leopard in hungry pursuit.
Coming to an abrupt stop, her cheeks flushed, she said, “Then let’s just go with it.”
“What?” I said, confused, and sidestepping from the elevator’s path when the doors opened.
Four people spilled out and Bane pushed me inside, hitting a random floor number.
“What are you doing?” I turned to her, ignoring the residual heat that her palm had left against my chest. She was stronger than she looked, but just as aggressive as I knew she could be.
She pushed wayward hair from her face, brushing a knuckle against the sweat beading on her forehead. Her head dropped back. “AC. Thank god.”
“What are you doing?” I repeated myself in case she hadn’t heard me the first time. Of course, she had and chose to ignore me. “You’re the one who pushed me into an elevator, remember?”
Bane swallowed, her gaze stuck on the doors like she was expecting an invasion. “We should just pretend we’re dating for the duration of your stay.”
“What are you, offering me accommodations like you work here?”
She scoffed, turning her worried expression to my gaze. “I didn’t think of the implications. You have two options: tell them the truth and be ruined for eternity.”
“Not exactly how I put it.”
“Or play along.”
I shook my head. “Appalling notion.”
“Have you ever fake-dated before?”
“Well…no. I don’t fake anything. Have you?” I side-eyed her. “You look like a faker.”
“I will have you know that I’ve never fake-dated. But!” She dramatically held up one finger, her brows arched high.
“Big but.”
“I have hammed it up,” she added, and proudly at that. As if theatrically convincing someone of a situation was an uncharted gift of hers.
The doors opened and we walked out, slowly wandering the hall, where every so often, the building opened up to the beach and a breeze sent Bane’s stray hair swirling around her face.
“You’ve had to convince people your relationship is better than it was?”
“No.” She gave me a look so terse that it could glitch a perfect program. “It’s called being a wingwoman. Hyping someone up. I have guy friends and there’s nothing like me being all over them and loudly proclaiming their panty-melting assertion in bed to make other women turn their heads and want a piece.”
“Of…panty-melting assertion.”
“In bed.”
“Right. There must be a difference there…”
We paused at a balcony overlooking a large water feature filled with pink lotus and surrounded by flowering shrubs. Bane closed her eyes in the gust of air. She really wasn’t meant for hot and humid climates. But she was wearing sweats.
“I got you into this, and I will suck it up and get you through this,” she stated.
“Excellent pitch,” I said dryly.
“I’m willing to help. You can take it or tell them the truth. Just…let me know,” she ended with a soft, almost hurt quality to her tone. Did she care? Or was she bored and had nothing better to do? “Also, you need a place to stay, and this place is probably booked for at least a night or two.”
I looked past Bane and groaned.
She glanced over her shoulder at two men rounding the corner, deep in conversation. “Friends?”
“Yeah. Groom and best man.”
“Wingwoman?” She offered with beckoning raised brows.
I grunted, but before I could even think long enough to find a remotely reasonable response, Bane had turned to me and adjusted my collar. It didn’t need adjusting. Her touch glided across the top button and across my shoulders. The warmth of her hands seeped through the fabric, leaving a trail on my skin underneath. Her scent of floral hair products mixed with subtle sweat wafted toward me.
I cleared my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Jump-starting this whole thing in case you want to go all in. Why are you wearing a button-down shirt? Even if it’s short-sleeved. Do you know what you look like? A dev. A nerdy dev. A nerdy dev tourist.”
“You say that like it’s a dirty thing.”
“Are they watching?”
I checked. “Yes.” With curious stares.
She focused on my hair like she was examining a pixelated header on a website project. Then she spread her fingers through it. I stilled. I couldn’t look at her the way she was touching me, like we were friends or an actual couple. I forced myself to look past her at my friends.
Sam’s and Aamar’s expressions lit up right as Bane stepped to the side to face the hallway. Sam crouched low, all smiles, and ran at me like we were in a football game. He tackle-hugged me and tried to lift me off the ground, laughing.
“Bro, don’t break your back before the wedding!” I said, playfully shoving him, grinning and then hugging Aamar.
Before they could ask any of the usual questions—how you doing, how was the flight, gonna be okay with the ex here—they turned to Bane and beckoned an introduction with smiles.
I groaned as Bane initiated. “Hi! I’m Bhanu. Who’s the groom?”
“Guilty.” Sam raised a hand and clucked his tongue. “Bhanu? Bhanu…hmm…sounds familiar.”
What the hell was he talking about? I’d never mentioned Bane to my friends.
“Group chat. Ex ran into you two earlier,” he clarified.
“Of course,” I muttered.
Bane gave me a careful glance before asking Sam, “So you’ve heard all about me, then?”
“Well, not much and that’s disappointing,” Sam replied with an elbow to my gut. “How are you going to leave a girlfriend off the chat?”
I scratched my ear. “I thought you’d be more upset that I have a surprise plus one.”
“Nah, man. We have plenty of room and food. When did you—” He stopped himself, turning to Bane with a bow of the head. “I’m sorry. Sunny can be closed off sometimes. My bride and I are very happy to have you with us. You’re in for a blast!”
“Oh, no,” she insisted. “I’m just tagging along. I don’t want to intrude—”
“Nonsense! You’re Sunny’s girl! He brought you all the way out here.”
“Actually, I came to see my sister, and this is all a coincidence. I don’t want to end up in your wedding pictures and forever memories.”
“Okay, listen. I can stand here all day and try to convince you, but once you meet my bride, she’s not going to let you go. I promise you.”
Bane looked to me, silently asking, “Are we doing this or what?”
Maybe I could’ve tracked down my ex and had a private conversation, taking the brunt of the humiliation to keep this between the two of us, but damn, she’d already gone to the group chat and now everyone knew. And now Sam was excitedly insisting on having Bane present, which was a big deal. This wasn’t a huge wedding. This would be small and intimate, and being my girlfriend meant he expected Bane to be at all the pre-wedding events. As in an entire vacation together. Dinner, drinks, outings.
I didn’t have much of a choice, seeing that the awkwardness of the truth would be a low-hanging cloud over everyone anytime I was near. Seemed like a huge damper for a wedding week.
Damnit. I heaved out a breath and gave Bane a short, almost imperceptible nod.
In a matter of nanoseconds, she went from friendly stranger in our midst to fake girlfriend on overdrive. She batted her lashes and sank against my side, slipping one hand down to mine, and beamed up at me. “Are you sure? I want you to have time with your friends.”
I swallowed hard, my mind blanking.
She turned to the guys and said, “He’s being shy.”
Aamar quirked a brow. “Sunny? Shy? This guy?”
She laughed and it sounded like angels blessing us with their presence. She’d never laughed like that in front of me before. Who was this woman turning on the charm so high that my friends were instantly eating out of her hands?
Bane shrugged and patted my chest. “Maybe he’s just shy with me. It’s very cute,” she said with a sultry, flirty tone that had Aamar tilting his head and silently relaying in our age-old telepathic bro speak: Damn, bro. You getting that?
“Then it’s settled! Sunny has a plus one! From henceforth, Bhanu will be joining us for everything. Right?” Sam asked, hopeful and a bit too eager.
Bane’s dazzling smile was blinding. How often did she smile that big? She could stop entire worlds looking like that, but how much of it was genuine? The configuration of this ploy led to zero being the most probable answer. Because this wasn’t real. She was faking it. But damn, was she good at this.
“What room are you in?” Aamar asked, pulling out his phone to take note.
With my lips compressing, my brain fidgeted with how to relay my answer without sounding like Sejal and I were at each other’s throats, but also where exactly was I staying?
“The villas,” Bane replied, looping an arm through mine while I stood in silence, dumbfounded and unable to add anything to her response, much less correct it. I didn’t have much of a choice.
“Fancy,” Sam said. “Like a honeymoon suite?”
Bane laughed that angelic laugh, a melody chiming in the breezeway. “Of course not. We’re not on a honeymoon. No, just the quaint villas; a sister property of the hotel. It’s on the other side of the golf course.”
The guys jerked their heads at me. I shrugged. I had no idea what she was talking about, but apparently they did.
“The ones that look like actual houses?” Sam asked.
“Yes. Hence the name, I guess. Not very creative,” Bane said, sounding like a designer. She had probably looked at the hotel’s website and clucked her tongue, skimming down every page making mental notes of what she’d change in the overall UX design of it all.
Sam whistled.
Her shoulders scrunched up, a movement of friction against my arm. I’d never noticed how preferable our height difference was. She was on the taller side, but several inches shorter than me so that whatever little motions she made were brushes against unsuspecting places. Nothing dirty, or even remotely arousing—this was Bane after all—but surprisingly not irritating.
Her delicate shrug and innocent but overtly pleased expression said it all, and the boys seemed to catch her nonverbal exclamation.
“They look extremely nice,” Sam commented, then whispered, “But, uh, don’t tell my bride. She’s going to wonder why I didn’t splurge that hard.”
I managed a chuckle. Sure. I could only assume these villas were expensive. Sam was well off as an engineer for Boeing back in Seattle, so for him not to splurge on the best room at this weirdly arranged multi-location-in-one-hotel was saying something. I had to remember to check out the pricing later. If I couldn’t get a room, even for one night, and I had to crash on Bane’s couch (presumably an expensive villa had a couch), then I should at least know what monetary amount to give her for my part.
Aamar’s phone pinged and he told Sam, “The wedding planner is ready. Wants to meet at the beach gazebo.”
“We better get going,” Sam said, taking an awkward step toward Bane as if he weren’t sure if he should shake her hand or hug her or…
She offered a fist. A fist bump. Of course she would. “I’m not much of a handshake or hugs type of person, so please don’t take offense,” she explained with that kilowatt smile that had disarmed my friends yet again.
When the guys had disappeared into an elevator, she slipped her arm out of mine and I said, “You don’t have to cross your comfort zone by playing along.”
“What?” She looked up at me with those soft eyes.
“The touching.”
She waved me off and scrolled through her phone. “I know you, it’s fine. Unless you prefer that I don’t?”
I glanced at her. I had no qualms about her touching me.
Bane’s lips slowly tugged up into a baiting smile. “In case the mere touch of my hand on your arm should make you combust?”
I groaned. “All right. Let’s move on.”
“Okay. What time and day do we meet for the wedding? Better add that to my incredibly packed schedule.”
“Saturday early evening. They have this thing about sunset pictures.”
“Cool. Guess I better acquire a dress? Is it formal?”
“Casual. But not like…” I swept a hand down the length of her body.
She deadpanned. “Joggers are in. Haven’t you seen women wearing these with high heels? It’s all the fashion rage.”
“A casual dress or slacks and a blouse would be preferable. You’re going to be in their wedding pictures.”
She cringed. “I’ll try my best to evade the cameras.”
I wasn’t going to argue on that one, especially when our fake breakup would happen shortly after we returned home. There was no need for someone to bring up Bane every time they saw her in wedding pictures.
What ever happened to Bhanu?
Why’d you guys break up?
How long were you two even together that you brought her to our wedding? She’s in half the photos.
And so on. Seeing these choice pictures framed on Sam’s wall every time I went over? Everyone loving her and constantly hammering me for answers on how I could let another good one walk away?
“For everything else, I’d say comfortable.”
She blinked at me. “What everything else?”
“We’re four days ahead of the wedding. The whole point is to turn this into a hangout. We have excursions planned.”
“Like what? And am I supposed to actually attend all of them?” Her jaw dropped as if spending time together was the worst thing in the world, and it probably was. It was bad enough to have my ex in my space, but now Bane would be taking up a good portion, too. There was no place to turn without seeing misery.
I stuck my hands into my pockets and shrugged. “I’m not going to force you into anything, but my friends will wonder. I could always tell them you’re splitting time between us and your sister. That’s believable.”
Her shoulders slumped. “My sister is working while I’m here, and she’ll get on me if I don’t actually leave the villa. Okay. What excursions and when?”
Bane dutifully entered dates and times for our outings: dinners, drinks, hiking, an afternoon on a boat, et cetera. At least there wasn’t a rehearsal dinner. That was saved for the immediate family flying in.
She huffed, muttering, “Tourist things.”
“Well, yes, we are tourists.”
“Not even one cultural or local thing. Something that only this land can offer?” She tsked, as if it were a damn shame. It probably was, but the couple had set the events and we simply complied.
“I’m sure we can find time to wander off and be cultural,” I added, not thinking she’d take my suggestion seriously.
“I have shorts and shirts aplenty for these excursions.”
“And something to swim in?”
Her eyes flickered and heat rose to my face as I quickly added, “If you want to swim. I don’t plan on swimming in the ocean. It’s too…unsettling.”
“It’s dangerous for a dev. Sharks and sharp coral lurking, waiting for their chance to bite some of that coding off.”
“Sharks?” I recalled how vast and deep the ocean was from the plane.
“Yes. There’s a particularly territorial tiger shark in the dark water, but we’d never swim out there. I’m sure a bunch of tourists will want to see clear waters, not dark and murky straight out of Jaws. They can smell tourists like fresh chum, all bloody and gooey and ripe for snatching up.”
“Noted.” Not that I’d planned on it, but no way in hell was I getting into the ocean.