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Allison put a hand to her forehead. “Ugh, Stella, not you too. We’re not going to sit here and talk about my love life!”

Stella scowled. “Then what are we here for? I guess we could try convincing Ryan to try bouncing back with somebody.” She elbowed Ryan, who had pursed her lips staring to infinity, a light flush coloring her cheeks. “There were a bunch of cute guys playing volleyball together at the beach yesterday. Maybe you can ask to join them. Show off your volleyball chops.”

Ryan pinched the bridge of her nose. “Er… I think I’ll pass. I’m not feeling it.”

“C’mon. At least give it a try. It probably just feels bad right now, but it’ll feel different once you get into it. Just one guy, a little time on the beach, maybe a drink or two…”

Ryan cleared her throat. It took everything I had to suppress laughter. “I’ll… pass,” she repeated.

“It wouldn’t have to be anything serious!” Stella protested. “This is a vacation. You could take the opportunity to just… reset.”

A laugh slipped out of my throat—I turned it into a cough, covering my mouth, clearing my throat. Apparently Ryan and Stella operated on the same wavelength, just at exact opposite ends of the frequency. Allison, apparently, was feeling vindictive, because she leaned in with a big smile on her face.

“Stella’s right,” she said. “What kind of guys do you like, anyway?”

Ryan sighed. “None, right now,” she said, pointedly, a point that sailed right over Stella’s head.

“At least say you’ll keep an open mind to it.”

Ryan put on a polite smile as a neatly dressed waiter hurried over to our table. “You know?” she said. “Maybe. I’ll keep an open mind to the idea of a… vacation… fling. Why not?”

Stella beamed like she’d won. “There we go. I knew you weren’tallboring.”

Poor Stella had no idea. Once we’d hurriedly checked the menu and placed our orders, Ryan turned the tables, because she leaned across the table with a dangerous smile and said, “So what about you, Allison? What kind of girls do you like?”

“Uh.” Allison was always cool until the moment anything remotely turned on her. She turned a lovely crimson, shifting awkwardly. “I dunno… I thought we weren’t having this conversation.”

“Well,” I said, “looks like you thought wrong.”

Allison shot me a betrayed look. I tried to conveyhey, I’m going to take Ryan’s sidewith a shrug, and she hunched her shoulders looking out the thick window at the lush garden behind the building. “Um. I dunno. I haven’t been with a lot of girls.”

“That means you’ve been with some,” Stella said. Allison prickled.

“I mean, I had a girlfriend when I was fifteen. Nothing really counts at fifteen. I had a girlfriend more recently, but, uh, in retrospect, not someone like her. I don’t know! Girls who are… uh… pretty?”

Stella shrugged as the waiter came back with our drinks, sinking back in her seat. “Well, we’ll play a game at the beach, point out girls and see which ones you like.”

Allison made a face like she was faced with cruel and unusual punishment. I decided to be a terrible friend. “You should,” I said. “The beach will be great. Allison loves an athletic girl.”

Allison shot me a horrified look. I smiled sweetly at her.

∞∞∞

Wasn’t sure what drew me out of the water, but I found myself at the oceanfront bar when I did, a cozy little spot with wood-slat walls up on the rocky overlook, where I could see Ryan still out swimming where low waves rolled in along the beach, Stella and Allison sitting on towels on the sand further up, Stella still tormenting the poor girl. I’d been out in the water with Ryan for ages, back and forth between there and the sand to talk to the others and going back to the water where we could flirt without anyone overhearing.

Genuinely, felt like a perfect kind of day. I wasn’t sure what had me feeling wistful, heading up the gentle sloping path to the bar here, where the gentle giant of a bartender who I’d seen a hundred times but still didn’t know his name got me a simple soda water with lime, and I sat there staring over the rocks watching Ryan swim.

And of course, that was where I was when this asshole showed up again, sliding into the stool next to me—Shane fucking Austen, still on duty trying to clean up, judging by the fake apologetic look on his face.

“Hey,” he said.

“How did you even know I was here?” I took my drink, standing up, and he put a hand out to still me. I took a half-step back.

“I didn’t. I came here looking for Ryan. But… I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

I raised my eyebrows high. “Oh, you figured that out, then, did you?”

He sighed, leaning against the bar all broody, self-pitying. “Look, I just want her to know that I’ll leave if she wants it. I know this whole argument has ruined the vacation for everyone involved, and I want her to have a good time with her family. If she doesn’t want to work through our issues right now, then I’ll go back.”