“Of winning you over.”
I take a sip of my wine and stare at her, waiting for her to continue.
She smiles softly. “Honey, you can’t see it, but that man has always looked at you like you’re the sunrise. You have every right to be upset with the way things have been, but if there’s even a part of you that wants to explore it and see if he’s sincere about burying the past, actually apologizing and making changes, I think you should consider it.”
Juniper nods. “Agreed. And great sex should not be taken lightly. It is hard to come by, trust me.”
I shake my head, finally cracking a smile. “I don’t know. He’s still my stepbrother.”
“Oh,stepbrother, my ass. You’re not blood-related, and you met him when you were fifteen. It doesn’t count.” Silvie laughs.
“Are you serious?”
She rolls her eyes. “Girl, yes, I’m so serious. No one cares at all except you.”
I stare at each one of their faces in the golden light, seeing amused smirks and emphatic nods all around.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Josie laughs, lifting her glass. “Let’s drink to it.”
We lift our glasses to hers.
“Drink to what?” I ask.
“To Summer having the best sex of her life … with her brother!”
“Stepbrother,” I grumble.
We clink our glasses and down the contents. I look over at Dayton one more time. He’s laughing with Cal. The sunset is creating a silhouette around him and the sail that would make an incredible postcard.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m missing out on a relationship that has potential.
Maybe I should see if this could lead somewhere.
chapter thirty
Dayton
Being back in Miami is torture. I flew in early on Monday, but by Tuesday, I’m nearly crawling out of my skin because I haven’t talked to Summer.
I’m tapping on my laptop keyboard at work, watching her on the security camera. She’s talking to Jack while he finishes up the mural, which does look really incredible on the back deck of the house. Now that it’s all coming together, I can see her vision. She’s good at this home renovation and design thing.
I pull out my phone, scrolling to her name. She’s been saved under Cupcake since the day I got her number in high school.
I tap the Call button, pressing it up to my ear. A few seconds later, she pulls the device out of her dress pocket.
“Hello?”
I jolt when I hear her voice on the camera and through the phone. I scramble to mute the feed.
“Uh, hey.”
“Hi.”
“You answered.”
“You called me.”
