A hot tub is already bubbling, with steam curling around it at the center of it all, and a small wooden table with four chairs sits to the right. To the left is a staircase that leads onto the beach, with two cushioned lounge chairs angled perfectly toward the glistening ocean and the setting sun.
Back inside, Sienna checks both bedrooms and immediately claims the one on the left because it’s “bigger” and “has a betterview.” I don’t argue. Instead, I grab my luggage and head to the bedroom on the right.
Throwing my suitcase onto the bed, I unzip it and unpack methodically—hanging shirts, folding shorts, lining up toiletries in the private bathroom. It’s peaceful until her delighted laugh rings out from the living area.
“Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries! This place is trying to make me quit my job and reside here permanently.”
I step out of my bedroom and walk down the short hallway to the living area, where she’s pouring two flutes of champagne. Her hair is wild from the humidity, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes sparkling with mischief as she bites into a chocolate-covered strawberry, the juices dripping down her chin.
She looks like trouble wrapped in sunshine, and I’m already thirsty.
“Peace offering?” She offers me a flute.
I take it from her, our fingers brushing. A spark travels up my arm, but I ignore it. My mouth opens to thank her, but she’s already heading outside. Following her, I lean against the wooden railing beside her as the sun dips toward the horizon.
“One more rule,” Sienna says, setting her glass down and hopping up to sit on the railing, legs swinging. “No falling in love with me.Seriously. I’m irreplaceable. Limited edition. A one-of-a-kind, chaos-infused machine. You’d never recover from the withdrawal.”
I set my own glass down and fold my arms. “I’ll do my best to resist your devastating charm.”
“Good luck,” she flashes a toothy smile. “Most men crumble by day three.”
“I’m not most men.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
She studies me for a long beat, then hops down, leans her hip against the railing, and raises her glass. “To surviving fourteen days without a felony.”
I clink my glass against hers. “To rules… and not breaking them.”
Chapter Three
Sienna
When Miloand I step onto the beach for the welcome dinner, my smile instantly widens as I spot my parents.
Mom’s wearing her neon-orange maxi dress, which she only pulls out for her tropical vacations, her gray-blond hair swept into a loose bun at her nape. She’s laughing at whatever Dad just said—probably one of his terrible dad jokes—while he’s in the same white linen shirt and khaki shorts he’s worn every vacation since I was ten, that battered straw fedora cocked at the exact wrong angle.
They’re standing by a long wooden table set for eight, already surrounded by my twin sister Aria and her fiancé, Ethan, along with his parents, Lillian and Tom. I’ve known the Coles since Ethan started dating Aria six years ago, when he kept showing up at our shared college apartment, pretending he was in the area, though he really just wanted an excuse to stare at Aria like she hung the moon.
Mom spots me first, her smile infectious as she calls out my name. I jog the last few steps, my sandals kicking up sand. She opens her arms, and I crash into them. I catch the orchid in her perfume as she hugs me tight. Then she pulls back and kissesboth my cheeks the way she’s done since I could roll my eyes at it.
“You’re glowing already, honey,” she smiles, cupping my face. “Tropical air or just happy to see your ancient parents?”
“Both,” I reply, kissing her cheek. “Mostly you, though.”
Dad wraps me in a bear hug that lifts me an inch off the sand. “There’s my wild one. Plane treat you okay?”
“Mostly,” I murmur against his cheek. “You’re still wearing that hat? It’s literally older than me.”
“Older and wiser,” he grins, tugging the brim with mock solemnity. “Like its owner.”
Before I can respond, Aria comes barreling toward me and crushes me into a hug so fierce I briefly lose the ability to breathe. “My other half. My best friend. My womb-sharer!” She peppers my face with kisses. “I’m so happy you’re here I could cry.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” I whisper against her ear. “Though nothing will ever top that time in senior year when you?—”
Her hand clamps over my mouth, silencing me. “We are not telling that story tonight. Orever.”
“But—”
“Sienna.”
