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I’ve barely gotten out of my clothes and into a bathing suit when Anya bangs on the door.
“I’m about to leave without you guys,” she threatens. “And I’ll be taking all the keys with me.”
Felicia comes out of the bathroom wearing a strapless one-piece with an angled cutout at the waist. The white fabric shimmers brightly against her dark skin.
“I don’t know about this,” she murmurs, crossing her arms over her waist.
“What are you talking about? You look great.” I pull her arm away and she only fights for a second before letting me see her bare midriff. “All you need is a belly button piercing.”
“Pretty sure that Drake would kill me if that ever happened.” Her lips quirk in a small smile. “He might kill you too for suggesting it.”
“I’m not afraid of Drake Van Koch and you shouldn’t be either. He’s all bark and no bite.”
Felicia smiles, but still looks uncomfortable. “I think I should put something over it.”
“If you get into the pool wearing an oversized t-shirt on top of your bathing suit, it’s only going to draw more attention to you,” I point out.
“Won’t the white be practically see-through when I get it wet?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes because I know she’s serious. “The suit has a liner, this isn’t the 1970s.”
“Drake is going…”
The door slams open and Anya sweeps into the room. “Drake is going to what?”
I rush to cover as Felicia splutters and shoots me a warning look. As much as I think it might do them both a world of good to have this secret out, now probably isn’t the time. “Drake is going to eat his heart when he sees me in this tankini.”
“We have to leave at some point for that to happen.” Anya impatiently gestures at the door as she hefts a wicker bag over her shoulder. “Can we go, please?”
“You’re wearing that suit, but I have another coverup you can borrow,” I tell Felicia before turning to Anya. “Give us like one more minute. I promise you that the pool isn’t going anywhere.”
“All the good pool chairs are,” she huffs. “I’m not spreading my towel out on the ground like a crazy person.”
“So we’ll hang out by the bar. It’s not like you’re actually planning to get in the water. Think of what will happen to your hair.”
Anya pauses for about half a second. “That isn’t the point.”
Felicia hugs the wrap closer around herself, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Aren’t we going to freeze?”
“The pool area is glass-enclosed,” Anya explains, like that should be obvious. “And heated.”
“I’m ready,” I announce.
Spinning on her heel, Anya strides for the door. “Thank Christ. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Havoc House never needs an excuse to party, but this twisted celebration of Brady’s life has kicked us into overdrive. Even by our standards, a hotel bash is in bad taste.
Nolan’s black Amex took care of the four-bedroom penthouse, but we didn’t spend more than five minutes there before heading for the pool. Almost everyone that we’ve ever met at St. Bart’s has taken over the rooftop, chasing away the handful of families naïve enough to think this would be an appropriate place for children.
Vaughn practically trips into the hot tub with a bottle of champagne in his hand, sending a wave of water crashing over the side to soak the concrete. “I can’t think of a better way to honor Brody’s memory than getting blackout drunk and waking up next to some girl whose name I can’t remember because I never got it in the first place. Pretty sure that’s what he would have wanted.”
Nolan raises his glass for a refill, nearly tipping over into the water. “Amen to that.”
Cole surveys the pool area with a bland expression as he holds his plastic wine flute out for a refill. Aside from me, he is the only other person not drunk enough to be a danger to themselves. “I think we can do better than this.”
I cast him a warning look. “Says the guy who didn’t put down a credit card to cover damages.”
