The Lies He Told | PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER ROMANCE |

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Torn from Royce's grasp, I plummeted into the watery abyss, the ocean's fury inundating my nostrils and strangling my life breath. I wish I had gone back to the shore with the others. It was foolish to stay in the sea, nearly drowning again.

But then, if I had left, I would have missed my chance with Royce...

As a married woman, I have been presented with a dilemma: I have betrayed my husband by sharing an intimate moment with another man.

Did I feel remorse for my actions? Yes.

I could not deny my attraction towards Royce and how he made me feel, though. I gave in to the temptation of being wanted. It has been a long time since I experienced such a passionate and captivating kiss.

Using rapid strokes, I swam towards the shimmering light that signified the surface and burst through the water just in time to avoid oxygen deprivation, expelling a gush of salty water and a slimy object that felt suspiciously like seaweed.

Royce fractured the water seconds later. His eyes scanned the rippling waters, and when they met mine, a flicker of relief softened his features. He spat out a mouthful of seawater, his voice hoarse as he called out my name. "Liv..." He swam closer, reaching out to help me. "You—"

"No," I replied, swatting away his advances. I cannot believe I allowed myself to entertain his involvement. "I am fine." My teeth chattered from the frigid temperature. "We should go back."

Royce's forward momentum ceased, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that palpitated my heart.

A shadow of hurt clouded his expression as I met his concern with a chilling silence.

With a single, stiff nod, as if silently acknowledging the message I had so blatantly delivered, he turned away without a backward glance or a thought for our abandoned boards and sliced through the water. His destination was the shore, where Drew and Chase lazed on the sand.

Fearing the prospect of being left alone in the ocean, I hastily followed Royce's lead towards the beach with renewed urgency.

When my feet finally touched the reassuring firmness of the seabed, I waded through the shallow waters until I reached the sand.

I succumbed to defeat and collapsed in a heap, the sodden yet gritty clothes on my body sticking to my skin.

God, surfing was a strenuous exercise, a full-body workout that required strength, endurance and fitness. I underestimated how hard these guys had to work to manipulate those waves. No wonder they are in such great shape.

Drew's sudden laughter was accompanied by a rather derogatory and gender-stereotypical comment about surfing being a pursuit reserved solely for men.

I chose not to respond to his thinly veiled attempt to elicit a reaction. He was only joking to get a rise out of me. I was too exhausted to take the bait.

Sprawled on the beach, the crisp morning breeze unsuccessfully dispelling the dampness from my skin, I listened to the men's animated conversation about food, rest and work.

"I think Royce was getting some play out there," Chase drawled, not that I was fazed by the opinionated, all-seeing eye. He never missed a trick. "I didn't know you were into stuck-up chicks."

I am not arrogant, snobby, or conceited. I am a good person, thank you very much.

At least, I hope I am.

"There's no play to talk about." Royce's lie was greatly appreciated. I dreaded the thought of gossip running rampant and my husband learning of my indiscretions. "Liv is a friend. So, you can put that dirt to bed."