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“Laying it on thick, Ash?” a voice, booming with laughter, asked. “That was the most pathetic, ball-clenching pickup line I had ever heard before.”

Asher’s face turned a dark red as he faced the newcomer above my shoulder.

Well that was just rude.

Twinkling out a laugh a couple octaves higher than my normal voice – channeling my inner Elena (the bimbo from the pool) – I placed my hand on Asher’s bicep.

“Oh, Ashy! You have such a way with words.” Another laugh.

It was so annoying I almost wanted to slap myself.

“You totally know how to win over a woman.” I took a strand of my hair and curled it around my finger. Lowering my voice, I added, “And if last night was any indication, please a woman as well.”

If it was possible – and I didn’t think it physically was – Asher’s face went five shades redder. With a wink, I braced myself, turning to face the intruder that dared insult Asher.

Okay, so maybe I came across as a territorial bitch, but Asher was the only semi-decent guy I have met, and it was a shame that he felt embarrassed. Not that it wasn’t cute or anything to see red blotches on his cheeks…

Nope. Nada. Totally hideous and not at all sexy to see a gorgeous man blush.

My breath let my body in one big whoosh when I faced the newcomer. Was every boy in this resort drop-dead, mouth-wateringly beautiful?

The new guy was gorgeous; there was no other way to describe it. While Asher sported more standard, boy-next-door good looks, this new one screamed danger. A sexy sort of danger, but danger all the same.

He had strong, broad shoulders, clearly noticeable in his black-fitted tee. His defined cheekbones appeared chiseled, and his hair was cropped close to his head. His dark skin showcased several tattoos – not as many as Ronan had, but enough to keep me intrigued. It was his eyes, though, that captured my attention. They were almost an amber color, bright and smoldering in an already arresting face.

Every fiber of my being wanted to fan myself like a blushing schoolgirl. It took incredible restraint on my part to keep my face impassive. Honestly, I was pretty proud of myself. If they handed out gold medals in the Olympics for resisting handsome boys, then I would receive them all. Gold medals, that is, not the boys. Okay, maybe some of the boys.

Focus, Adelaide. And stop drooling.

The new boy smirked, and I realized I had said that thought aloud. Oh well. You can’t win them all, can you?

“And who might you be?” I gave him a dismissive once-over as if he was nothing but a pesky bug. I’m sure that he could see through my apathetic front (hell, he would have to be an idiot not to), but he didn’t call me out on it. I appreciated his respect in allowing me to ogle him without admonishment

“The name is Ryder,” he said, grabbing my hand and pressing a kiss to the skin there. Yup. He most definitely saw through my less-than-impressed attitude…or he was just a cocky bastard. I chose to believe it was the latter.

But his lips though…

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He went from sexy to cheesy in a span of five seconds. With a wicked smile, he kept a firm grip on my hand. I wanted to accidentally (but very purposefully) knee him in the balls.

“And what might your name be?” he continued. “Probably a beautiful name for a beautiful girl?”

I couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled up from my chest before I could stop myself.

“Oh my god. That is so fucking corny. Does that actually work for you? Good grief, I need a shower now to replace the stench of shitty pickup lines.” I giggled at Ryder’s blank expression and slowly extracted my hand. The traitorous limb still tingled from his kiss. “Now run along and head back to your computer so you can look up better pickup lines. Go on.Shoo.” I waved him away with a flick of my wrist.

Ryder was silent for only a moment, before he said, playing off of my word shoo, “Flipflop.” Pause. “Croc.”

I shook my head. “See? So freaking corny.” A smile betrayed my amusement. “You remind me of a cat – constantly rubbing against everyone for pleasure.”

“That’s nicer than what she said to me,” Asher interjected. “She called me feminine.”

Ryder erupted into laughter. He practically fell over.

Good. I hope you choke on your laughter…that is, if you can choke on laughter. I meant your spit. Choke on your spit, you cocky son of a-

My inner monologue (which somehow became my outer monologue) only made Ryder laugh harder. Tears formed in his eyes, and he hastily brushed them away.

“I can’t say that I disagree with her assessment,” Ryder said after he collected himself. “I meant the part about you being feminine, not me choking on my laughter.” He sidestepped the hit Asher aimed at his head.