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“Allie?”
“Sorry. Still here. Yes, I’ll send pictures.”
“And you’ll call me tomorrow? You know, after whatever happens with the sex god. I’m dying to know how he’s going to top the video thing.”
I laugh. “Yes, Mia, I’ll call you tomorrow. Sorry, no pictures of that.”
She huffs a pout. “I still say as your best friend I should get to watch the videos. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked, girl.” She pauses. “Or maybe you’re being a bit territorial about the sex god?”
“Will you quit calling him that?”
“You’re the one who started it, way back when. If I recall, you texted me those exact words the morning after you first hooked up.”
“Yeah, but you’ve said it like a hundred times in the past few minutes. It’s weird.”
I hear someone shouting at her in the background, something about towing a car. She must be at work. She and her brothers own an auto repair shop. I kind of love that about her. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty and that makes her one badass chick.
“Hey, I gotta go. Tomorrow!”
“Okay, okay. I promise I’ll call you in the morning.”
She ends the call, and I’m left staring down at the bay, searching for more stingrays, wondering if Asher is making plans to ‘top’ the videos. Or maybe I’m not wondering at all. Maybe I’mhoping.
I toss my phone onto the couch and pull out the outfit I may have shopped way too long and carefully to find yesterday. The outfit I plan to wear when Asher arrives. The one that will show my tanned legs when I’m sitting nonchalantly at the hotel bar hoping to be noticed. The one I hope he tears off me when he does god-knows-what to me after sneaking into my bungalow.
I stop myself right there. Because I’m getting too excited. There’s nothing different about this time. It’s the same as all the others.
I glance out the window knowing it’s not. This one is happening in paradise. In a place people come to get married. A place where people fall in love.
Closing my eyes, I sigh, once again trying to push away the feeling that niggles my insides. The one that presses against my heart as if knocking on a door to try and get inside. Because I know I’ll never,ever, open it.
Chapter Seven
Asher
It’s been a long day. Bug and I got up at six this morning to catch a nine o’clock flight from Orlando to Atlanta, which seems totally counterproductive since our final destination was Antigua, but that’s how the airlines roll. Then our flight from Atlanta was delayed by two hours, extending our already long layover. After the four-hour flight to get to the island and then the taxi ride to the resort, Bug is definitely getting on my last nerve and I’m in serious need of an adult beverage.
We check in and make our way to our room. Along the way, I look around, wondering where Allie is staying. The resort is huge, so she could be anywhere. I doubt very much that she—or any of the Montanas—got a room like mine. I’m sure they’re in the executive or penthouse suites or whatever the swanky rooms are.
We find our room and Bug swipes her key card, drops her shoulder bag near the couch, and beelines to the window. Her shoulders slump a bit and disappointment settles in. “I can’t see the ocean.”
“I think it’s just beyond those trees,” I say, sidling up next to her. “I had to compromise. It was either a regular room with a view of the ocean, or a suite with a garden view. I thought you’d want your own space.” I nod to the couch. “It’s a pull out, and my bed is just through there.” I tip my head in the opposite direction then give her a gentle nudge with my elbow. “Hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom.”
She unzips her suitcase and throws her stuff into the dresser under the television. “Want me to unpackyourstuff?”
“What am I, five?” I wink playfully. “Seriously, Bug, we’re here to have fun. You don’t always have to look out for me, you know. That’smyjob.”
She shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I like it.”
Itisa big deal. I’m not sure if I’m just now realizing it or what. But she does a lot for me. Like this morning, she got up extra early to make sure we had a good breakfast before our day of travel. And yesterday, she made a checklist for me so I wouldn’t forget my dress socks and the tie that matches her bridesmaid’s dress. At thirteen, she should be more worried about forgetting her phone charger than her father’s packing needs.
She plops down on the couch, as if we haven’t been sitting on our asses for ten hours already, and gets out her phone. “Seems like a pretty cool place. Hope the Wi-Fi is good.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Based on her reaction, I know she might be a little disappointed that we came all this way and don’t even have a view of the water, but she’d never outright say it. It’s not that I couldn’t afford it—most of this was paid for by travel points anyway—but I’ve never been one to splurge. Not on a big house, or fancy car, or lavish vacations. I put away every single penny I can. For the piece of my heart sitting on the couch. For her wedding. For her future.
That’s not to say we don’t live nicely. We do. While our three-bedroom house doesn’t hold a candle to Montana Manor, it’s not exactly a broken-down shack. I drive a nice four-year-old convertible. And Bug has been to the Rocky Mountains, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and just about every beach in Florida. This is, however, her first time out of the country.