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Seeing her in London’s tight-fitting tank top makes my jaw clench. My stomach twists, thinking about all the times I’ve admired London in it over these past few months. However, the tank top is not the same on Naomi because her tits aren’t nearly as fucking nice as London’s. Which serves as yet another reminder of how badly I’ve fucked up.

London wore it on the plane, and it took every ounce of control not to reach out and touch her—to see if this girl was real. She thought I was tense because I was angry, which I was, but my physical reaction to her started then. She looked so fucking good standing there, scowling at me, and she didn’t even realize it. That’s what I love the most about London; she doesn’t have to try hard to look good because she’s gorgeous all the time.

I can’t help but stare at Naomi’s tits anyway.

Naomi notices and her energy shifts, which is the exact response I need from her. “So, what do we do now?” she asks cautiously.

I shift my eyes up to meet hers. “I need you to show me where Ezra’s hiding.”

She shakes her head. “No. I can’t do that, Micah. Not after what you did to his hand. I may not want to be with him anymore, but I don’t want you to kill or hurt him again.”

I wish I could guess exactly where London went so I could go directly to her and not waste any more time than I already have with Naomi and her bullshit. The other side of the island is calling me. Something is itching at me, telling me it’s where I need to go first. For that, I need Naomi to cooperate. And since she responds much better to honey than poison…

I sweep the hair falling into her face and brush it behind her ears. “You have to show me, Naomi. You don’t have a choice.”

She lowers her gaze to my lips, then back to my eyes. Her expression is pained and confused, with a flicker of hesitation. “What is it about her, Micah? It could be us, the future you’re imagining right now. I’ve never left you. I’ve never wavered in my feelings for you. You were always my first choice. Can you say the same thing about her?”

I regret messing around with Naomi in the early days of being stranded here. My motive was one of pure jealousy, ignited by witnessing Maison’s connection with London. London’s wandering eyes in the forest filled that hollowness inside me. She wanted me, and I wanted her to want me. I was manipulating Naomi then, and I’m manipulating her now.

She grabs my wrist, then laces my fingers in her hand before twisting them above my head and straddling me.

Fuck. She was always good at playing games, too.

“Naomi,” I warn.

“Micah,” she whispers, lips tickling my cheek and pressing her chest against me. “London’s gone… She left you.”

I move my hands to her hips to push her off me, but she doubles down on her grip on my thighs. And fuck me, considering she was nearly dead three days ago, she’s strong.

I shake my head, even though I can’t dispute what she’s saying. “You don’t know that.”

She runs her hand over my cheek. “Micah, I’m here now. This is your reality.”

This reminds me so much of Olivia. How Olivia acted when she was manipulating me, and I couldn’t see past her pussy. I’d like to think I’ve grown since then.

Olivia ruined me.

She slides down like a worm, pulling my sweats down with her. My fucking cock is hard, betraying me from her grinding on it, and she moves to take it in her mouth. I close my eyes as it throbs, and Naomi expertly cups it in her hands. I drop my hands, not knowing where to place them.

“You have to stop this, Naomi.” I push her just out of reach because if her lips make contact, it’s a line I can’t uncross.

She knows what I like. Part of me wants to let her do this. My cock twinges just thinking about it and how easy it would be to just let Naomi suck it, as she has so many times before. My body craves it even now.

Just not from her.

Fuck.

London’s not here. London fucking left me, but every ounce of me is screaming no, that I need to go find her. This is Naomi’s desperate attempt to stay here with me. There is no way this is what I want right now.

She narrows her eyes and fidgets beneath my grip. “Don’t feel guilty,” she says, peering up at me through her lashes. “I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue.” Fire blazes in her eyes. “She was never yours, Micah. She was Maison’s girlfriend, just like Olivia was. Now she’s gone, and you’re stuck with me.”

I whip her around and slam her on the bed, my hard-on immediately subsiding. This is the girl who beat the shit out of London for no good reason. I won’t betray London like this, whether she’s dead or alive. No fucking way. I’ve already let it go too far.

“She is mine, Naomi,” I hiss. “She is mine like no other girl has ever been. Not you, not Olivia, not anyone, and I will fucking move mountains to get her back.”

She startles and stiffens, her eyes like saucers. “It sure seems like it,” she scoffs.

I grip her brittle shoulders with my hands and narrow my eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Naomi? I’ve treated you like trash for three years. Don’t you have any fucking dignity?”