In Love With Him

Chapter 71

Kennedy’s POV

The moment my feet touched the dock, I felt like I had stepped into another world.

The air in the Bahamas was different—warmer, richer, and thick with the scent of salt, hibiscus, and something sweet I couldn’t place. The sun was brighter here, not just hot, but golden, like it poured over everything instead of just shining down. It kissed my skin, wrapping me in warmth that made me forget we’d only been on a boat a few hours ago.

The island was stunning. Everything looked like it had been plucked straight from a travel magazine. The sand was soft, like flour between my toes, and so white it nearly glowed. The ocean stretched out in every direction—crystal clear and impossibly blue, fading from turquoise to deep sapphire the farther it reached. Palm trees swayed lazily along the edges of the beach, and vibrant flowers bloomed in every shade imaginable—hot pinks, fiery oranges, deep purples, and sunny yellows.

It was paradise. No, it was magic.

The resort itself was massive. Towering white buildings with glass balconies and curved architecture that gave it an almost futuristic elegance. Waterfalls spilled into lagoons scattered throughout the grounds. The entrance alone had an arched ceiling made of wood and glass, with a giant chandelier made of seashells and crystal. Staff in white uniforms greeted us with fruity drinks and fresh towels before we’d even checked in.

I think my jaw was on the floor the entire time.

Check-in was quick, considering the size of our group. Kyle and Morgan got their key first, heading to a room two doors down from us. Dad and Helen were in the top floor honeymoon suite—which we all knew would probably be off-limits for the rest of the trip, for very obvious reasons I did not want to think about.

Then there was us.

Finn, Marty, and I were in a double suite on the third floor—room 312. The space was huge. Two queen beds, a modern bathroom with a rainfall shower, a little sitting area with a balcony that overlooked the ocean. The walls were painted a soft blue, and everything smelled like lavender and coconut. The sheets were silky, the pillows fluffy, and the AC was already humming softly in the background.

Right next door, in room 314, were Dominic and Max.

As we unpacked and tossed our bags on the beds, I caught myself glancing out the balcony toward the beach. The water shimmered, and the breeze blew through the palms like a whispered invitation. I wanted to run into it. I wanted to feel free for a little while.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Marty gasped as she opened the minibar. “They have mini rum bottles in here! We’re going to get so drunk and make some very bad decisions.”

Finn flopped onto one of the beds dramatically. “I’m so ready for this. Kennedy, you better be mentally prepared to flirt. Hard. We’re making this trip count.”

I laughed softly, but part of me was still spinning from the beauty of it all. And if I was being honest… from the fact that Dominic was just one thin wall away from me.

I hadn’t seen him much since we got off the ship. He’d disappeared into the crowd, helping Max with the luggage or maybe just trying to keep to himself. But now that I was here, surrounded by the unreal beauty of this place, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen on this trip. I didn’t know what exactly—but the air felt heavier, charged, like a storm was building.

And Dominic? Dominic felt like the lightning waiting to strike.

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Dominic’s POV

The second I stepped onto the island, I felt it.

The sun hit different here—warmer, heavier. The salty breeze clung to my skin, the kind of heat that wasn’t uncomfortable but slow, lazy, like the island was daring me to relax. I didn’t want to. Couldn’t, really. My body was in the Bahamas, but my mind… was still tangled up in the mess I couldn’t escape.

Mostly her.

Kennedy.

She stood a few steps ahead of me, taking in everything with wide, bright eyes like the world had cracked open just for her. The wind danced through her wild black curls, the sun lighting up her pale skin like porcelain dipped in gold. And her eyes—that ridiculous, impossible shade of blue—sparkled like the ocean itself had decided to take root in her.

She was breathtaking. And that was the problem.

Because she was also my stepsister. Or about to be.

I tightened my grip on my bag and turned away before I said something stupid.

The resort was ridiculous—like someone dropped a five-star palace in the middle of a tropical paradise. Infinity pools stretched toward the horizon. Stone pathways wound through manicured gardens, fountains, and private cabanas with gauzy white curtains. Every corner smelled like citrus and sunscreen and sea salt.

We checked in, and I was glad to have Max rooming with me. He kept me grounded—half because I needed someone to keep me from going full-on brooding mess, and half because if I ended up alone too long with Kennedy nearby… well, I didn’t trust myself.

I tossed my duffel bag on the bed, peeled off my hoodie, and turned the AC on full blast. The room was nice. Big. Clean. Two queen beds, balcony overlooking the beach. Max was already sprawled out with his headphones in, humming along to some beat he was making on his phone.

I needed air.

I stepped outside, the balcony rail warm beneath my palms, and let my eyes scan the resort grounds. That’s when I saw her.

Kennedy was standing down near the edge of her balcony, overlooking the ocean. She leaned against the railing like she belonged there, a soft breeze playing with her hair as she stared out at the water. There was a stillness to her—peaceful, quiet, and unknowingly magnetic.

My chest tightened.

It was torture, really. Watching her like this, knowing I couldn’t have her. Not without risking everything.

But God did I want to.

Not just to touch her. Not just to kiss her. I wanted to wake up to her. Know every version of her. The girl who cried during sad movies. The one who danced like no one was watching when her favorite song came on. I wanted to know her fears, her secrets… the things she only whispered to herself at night.

I pressed my lips together, grounding myself.

This trip was supposed to be about family. A wedding. A celebration. And yet here I was, standing on a balcony, staring at the one person I shouldn’t want like this.

Kennedy turned slightly, laughing at something Finn said beside her, and the sound hit me like a wave. Pure. Light. Unfiltered joy.

God help me, I was in trouble.

The day moved faster than I expected. Once we unpacked and settled into our rooms, the resort staff gave us a brief tour. Everything was vibrant, bursting with color — from the lush palm trees swaying over walkways lined with white sand, to the crystal-clear water stretching toward the horizon like something off a postcard.

We rode small open-air carts down winding paths, past tiki bars and infinity pools that bled into the ocean. Staff greeted us with polite smiles and island-accented welcomes, handing out tropical drinks with umbrellas and pineapple wedges.

I didn’t drink. Not today. Not after how I came home last time.

Instead, I walked. Observed. Especially her.

Kennedy was wearing a simple sundress — black with thin straps, the kind that clung to her in all the right places. Her hair was down, soft curls bouncing against her back, and her skin practically glowed in the sunlight.

Every now and then, I caught her smiling. Not at anyone. Just… to herself. Like she couldn’t believe she was actually here.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

But I wasn’t the only one.

At dinner, they had a massive open-air buffet set up on the beach. Tables draped in white linen, candles flickering in glass holders, strings of warm lights stretched between palm trees. The scent of grilled seafood, sweet spices, and citrus hung heavy in the salty breeze.

I sat near the end of one of the long tables with Max beside me, poking through his plate like a bored teenager. Kennedy sat three seats down with Marty and Finn — and across from her was one of the island servers. Tall, tan, local. Probably not older than twenty-one.

And he couldn’t stop looking at her.

At first, I thought maybe I was seeing things. Then I caught him again — smiling every time she spoke, hovering a little too long when refilling her drink, always finding some excuse to walk past her side of the table.

Marty, of course, noticed.

She leaned in toward Kennedy, not bothering to lower her voice. “That waiter’s so into you.”

Kennedy blinked. “What? No, he’s not.”

Marty gave her an are-you-serious look. “Babe. He’s basically undressing you with his eyes.”

I clenched my jaw, barely touching my food.

A few minutes later, the guy returned. He had something in his hand — a bright, tropical flower, red and orange with streaks of gold.

He walked straight up to Kennedy, held it out with a smile that probably worked on every tourist girl he’d ever met.

“A beautiful flower,” he said with a thick accent, “for a beautiful young lady.”

Kennedy looked startled, blinking at him like her brain short-circuited. Then, with a nervous giggle, she reached out and took it. “Um… thank you.”

Marty and Finn both cooed, of course, eating it up like it was the cutest thing in the world.

I gripped the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white.

It shouldn’t bother me. It shouldn’t. But watching her blush and smile at someone else — even if it was just harmless flirting — did something to me I couldn’t name.

I wanted to stand up. Wanted to walk over and plant myself between them. Tell him to back the hell off. That she wasn’t just some tourist to impress with flowers and accents.

But I didn’t move.

Instead, I sat there. Burning.

Because no matter how many miles away we were from home, how many sunsets we shared on this island — she still wasn’t mine.

And if I didn’t get my s**t together soon… I might lose the chance for her to ever be.