Page 7

7

EMMETT

I t only takes me a minute to realize that I’m fucked.

While Owen and Isla are off exploring somewhere enjoying their lives as a childfree couple, Briar and Leo left the girls to me as they scream at each other in their room. I’d be worried, but the last time I ventured into the building to grab a water bottle from the fridge, I heard a different kind of noise, which is, honestly, not what I want to hear either.

“Guess it’s just us,” I tell the girls as we walk out toward the beach. “Are we allowed to go swimming?” Elara asks.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” I scratch the back of my head, unsure.

Elara turns back toward the house. “I need my bathing suit!”

“No!” I yell, panic surging through me. Absolutely no way I’m sending the girls in there.

“Elara?” a voice calls through the crashing of waves against the sand.

Our heads whip in the direction of the sound, and I watch as Isla’s friend Heidi comes out of the house, towels in her arms.

“You guys want to swim?” she asks them. When the girls nod, she gives a questionable look back toward the house before sighing and heading back in.

I assume makeup sex hasn’t wrapped up yet.

The girls head to the small outdoor bathroom as Heidi heads back out, swimsuits in hand. They take turns getting changed in the stalls before we head out onto the beach, Heidi falling into step with me on our way.

“Are they usually so,” she pauses. “Loud?” With a fake shiver, Heidi places the towels on the ground as the girls run ahead of us into the waves.

“I have no idea,” I tell her simply.

I’ve seen Heidi a couple times. She’s come to a few games with the girls, always sitting in Leo’s box with Isla. She’s also been watching Elara, and she and Briar seem to love her.

But there’s something about her that makes me uneasy, and I’m not sure what.

“It’s a beautiful afternoon,” she says almost to herself as she leans back in the sand, propping herself up by her elbows.

I nod. “It is.”

We watch the girls play in the waves for what feels like ages before she speaks again.

“What’s your story, Big Guy?” she asks suddenly, taking me by surprise.

And it’s when I look back at her that I’m hit with a sudden realization that I don’t think I want to tell her anything about me. Nothing at all. My fight or flight is kicking into gear, and all I want to do is get out of there.

Heidi lays in the sand, her jean shorts rolled up to expose the slight curve of her ass just slightly, her white tube top rolled up to expose her pale, soft, freckled stomach, her arms folded behind her head as she looks at me through her dark sunglasses, her hair a halo around her in the sand.

She’s golden.

And I freeze.