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Oh shit.
ItisRonan’s mediocre friend. Which probably means …
My stomach plummets to my sandals as the sleek form bringing up the rear of the line comes into full view, his soft gray T-shirt clinging to that perfect body. Intense green eyes hide behind signature aviators, his stony face half-hidden by a baseball cap.
I haven’t seen Ronan since we had sex against my kitchen wall two weeks and one day ago—almost to the hour. I haven’t heard a single peep from him. And now he shows uphere,for a day cruise? Potentially with anotherwoman?
Ishouldthrow my water bottle at his head. A part of me itches to.
And yet my pulse races in his presence.
A short brunette in a fuchsia bathing suit leads the pack. “Hi, I’m Ryan. You must be Sloane?”
“Uh …” I falter. Dotheyknow what happened between Ronan and their captain? Is this why they booked me?
No, Skye gave her my name, I remind myself.
They’re all staring at me as I gape like a beached fish. Possibly wondering if they’re putting their afternoon and their lives in the hands of an idiot.
I clear my voice, doing my best to draw some semblance of confidence. “Captain Sloane for the next four hours.”
“Hottest captainever.” Big dumb blond—what was his name again?—declares, peering over his sunglasses at my bikini top, or likely, at my chest. Did Ronan tell him what happened?
“Connor.” Ryan elbows him in his rib cage. “My brother thinks he’s charming. He doesn’t realize he’s a pig-slut.”
“A pig-slut. Hmm.” He mock frowns. “Did you learn that at your fancy MBA school?”
“No, I learned it while living with you,” she quips without missing a beat.
“You didn’t complain when you were paying practically nothing in rent for all those years.”
“Dad gave you your down payment.” She smiles sweetly up at him. “And, believe me, I did.”
“Is Ronan a pig-slut too?” His responding grin is broad and smug.
Even under the harsh sun, her cheeks redden.
“All right, children,” the tall preppy man in the button-down swordfish-print shirt on her left scolds playfully. He’s giving off major boyfriend vibes.
But what was that sly dig about Ronan?
Everyone’s standing around. Might as well get this awkward show on the road. Or water. I gesture toward the tiki. “Come aboard and get settled in. We’ll go over a few safety rules and then we can get this party started. There’s ice and supplies for your drinks.” Which it appears they’ve brought a lot of.
“And food?” The preppy guy holds platters in each hand—one of veggies and dip, the other fruit. The two striking blonds behind him carry grocery bags stuffed with chips and soda against their ample bikini-clad chests.Whitebikinis, at that. Brave girls. Who are they in this mix? A jealous twinge in my gut says they’re not also Connor’s sisters.
Has Ronan fucked either of them?
Is he fucking one right now? Am I about to shuttle Ronan and his girlfriend around for the afternoon?
This is going from bad to worse, very quickly.
“Plenty of ice in the cooler.” I force a wide smile and step back, allowing them space to pass. The dock rocks with their shifting weight.
Finally, Ronan reaches the tiki boat, his ripped arms laden with boxes of margarita cans.
I hold my breath as he stalls, his looming body so close taking me back to those shared moments in an instant. My traitorous pulse races once again.
“Hey, sea witch.” His voice is as raspy as ever.