Papillon

Chapter 7: Live A Little

Bella

"You're a walking invitation for human trafficking," Francis drawled behind me.

A smile touched my lips. I'd been dancing for so long, it was late, and I was exhausted. The pool sounded like the right thing to calm my aching muscles down. So here I was, feet dangling in the water as I perched on the side, listening to the distant music from the dance floor. My sparkly heels and sparkly clutch were next to me, reflecting light off the pool.

I'd won our last game and victory had never felt so sweet. Men—they were all the same. The second I brought my body into the mix, it was game over. I knew that and wasn't shy about using it either.

"Well, I'm not walking so you're already wrong," I retorted.

"It's late, Bella." Disapproval rang in his voice.

Objectively, this was stupid. A sixteen-year-old girl all alone in Cabo, sitting by a pool in a short, red, barely there cocktail dress? Dad would kill me if he ever found out.

"I'll be fine," I insisted, too tired to get up and go back to my room.

A low growl of annoyance sounded behind me but then, he walked forward and sat beside me, a good foot of space between us. Still in dress pants and a button down, he stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands.

I didn't know why he was here. I didn't want him to feel forced. I could take care of myself.

"You don't have to be here," I informed him, turning back slightly to look at him. The low lights of the pool made his dark blond curls look darker and the greens of his eyes almost black. He didn't look at me, just out at the water.

"Why are you out?" He asked simply.

"My room is empty."

"Why?"

"Robyn's probably in some stranger's room, having a wonderful time. Ariadne is doing the same or she found some place where she wanted to study."

"So?"

"So..." I started, unsure if I should be even giving this man the license to tease me about something else. But in that moment, I was so tired and so alone, it slipped out before I could help it. "I don't like the dark."

I avoided looking at him, but he said nothing, just let my words float in the silence between us. Turning back, his eyes were closed, and his face was up at the night sky. He had unnecessarily long lashes and that pissed me off because I had to put work into making mine that long.

Everything about his stupid face was regal, sculpted, and harsh. Too harsh and cold to belong to a seventeen-year-old. Too symmetrical, too perfect.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was talking to my mother when I saw you."

A smile threatened to make its way to my face. "How is she?"

"She's alright," he exhaled, still facing the sky.

"You're a good son," I said quietly. Exhaustion was a bitch, making me lose all control over my goddamn mouth. But still, I didn't regret saying it.

That made him open his eyes and train his gaze on me. It was cold, detached, and unfeeling.

"I could have been better," he clipped and just the tone of his voice made me too scared to push why.

I looked away. Though I wanted to keep talking to him, I didn't know what to talk about. Naturally, I started another game.

"Tell me about those two," I nodded at two girls who were sitting on a bench by the pool.