Page 8 of The Bleeding Hearts Club

Theo

I’m not good. And he would just leave too. They all do in the end.

Those words echoed in my mind for hours last night. Can she truly not see how perfect she is? Are people so dense they cannot see how lucky they are to even be close to her? Why would someone hurt her?

In the short time I’ve known her, Mina is single-handedly the most genuine person I’ve met in my twenty-nine years on earth and probably will ever meet in however long I have in eternal life. Emmett is so gonna give me shit for this, but I can’t help myself. She has captivated my entire being.

I like that she isn’t some dainty precious little flower. Mina is stubborn and independent. She knows she doesn’t need someone to fight her battles, and I have so much respect for that. I like that she doesn’t take my shit and, okay, maybe a little excessive flirting, but it’s fun. She calls me out for being ridiculous. No one else does that.

If I can achieve anything this week, it might not be winning her heart, but I’m damn well going to show her that anyone who walks away from her is the one missing out. She’s a treasure, a once in a lifetime chance. I’m not going to waste it.

Chapter 5

Mina

I slept on a cloud. There’s really no other way to say it. I literally slept on a cloud. This whole five star hotel shit has its perks, alright?

First, I got to my room last night. Everything is chill. It looks like any old run of the mill hallway. Very “Overlook Hotel” if you catch my drift. Pretty standard long hall with a bazillion doors on each side. Gold numbers designating each room. Pretty normal right?

Wrong. Wrong, bitch.

This thing is decked the fuck out. I’m almost positive that my entire apartment would fit in this room alone. I don’t have a measuring tape right now, but I’d put my entire salary on it. It’s completely unnecessary but props to the construction dudes pulling it off. From the outside, you’d never believe there would be so much space. It’s unexpected. Much like everything else has been on this trip so far.

Second, it has a balcony. Like a great balcony. I can see everything from up there. My room is on the tenth floor, and it’s the optimal height to see far over the tree line to the bay beyond. If I was a morning person, I’m sure the sunrise from here would be phenomenal, but as it is, I am not.

Which brings me to number three.

I slept like a baby. The bed is the softest thing on earth. I can’t imagine it being man made. Nothing can be this comfy. It’s not humanly possible. So, I have a theory that it was created by some ethereal cloud monster or something. Cthulhu but cloud.

I never want to leave this thing. The right amount of squish, it’s always cool. The blankets and sheets are some crazy million count thread and Egyptian something or other.

I take back all the bad things I said about how extra this place is. The bed is the redeeming factor, as well as my schedule for the day’s activities.

After dinner last night, which was a pretty standard buffet style situation, —the mac ‘n cheese was pretty damn good—I came back to my room to find the schedule laid on the desk in the corner of my room.

Your girl is a free agent until 3 o’clock this afternoon. Perfect opportunity to sleep in, relishing in this glorious mattress, and then head to the beach and read. Exactly as I had planned: beach bar, daiquiri, lounge chair, Kindle, and the next book on my to-read list. And most importantly, not speaking to people.

My social battery is already taking a major hit, and I still have the rest of the week to go. Avoiding everyone at this point is imperative if I plan on surviving four more days.

* * *

The breeze is warm against my skin. It’s a nice feeling as the sun beats down from its perch in the sky. My picturesque view of the water shimmering against the horizon on the ferry yesterday is a pale comparison to what it’s like standing in the heated sand. Only one issue with this ideal vacation setting—there’s so many fucking people.

I feel like I’m at Daytona during Spring Break. This is crazy. Half naked people walking around, that one weird guy in a speedo three sizes too small, leaving nothing to the imagination, and not a single lounge chair is open near the water.

“Great,” I grumble to myself as I turn to the chairs lined up near the shade formed by the tree line. It’s pretty much deserted over here, aside from the towel and bag a few chairs over, which I mean, it’s pretty obvious why. My first instinct was getting my toes in the water. Oh, well, I guess. Not like I can’t enjoy the view from over here.

I set out my blanket on the wooden lounger. I’m not really in the market for getting splinters in my ass. I’m sat down, stretched out, margarita in one hand, Kindle laying beside me, when I realized my terrible mistake. I forgot my sunscreen.

Stupid. Stupid!

The sun and me? Not besties. Five minutes out here without any protection from its villainous rays, I’m a lobster, well-done. Squidward coming to me for a raise, kind of bad.

Looking around me, I know I’m shit out of luck on this. No one’s around me to ask. And if I walk over to the populated areas, I may as well just walk back to my room at that point.

My eyes skate over to the bag sitting in the only other occupied lounge chair.

Should I?