“Oh yeah.” I lean against the kitchen counter, replaying last night in my head. Talking for hours. Falling asleep on the phone. When I woke up, she was gone, but she’d left a message:
Morning, boo. I’m glad you slept. Enjoy your day with Neo. If you see me at the festival, I’ll be the one objectifying you from a distance. Tease me and wear shorts. Bye.
A slow grin stretches across my face. I’d made sure to pick the light blue pair.
Neo tilts his head, rubbing his chin. “This woman’s really got you wrapped. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years.”
“She’s special, man. But it’s complicated.”
“So you said.” And now there’s something more in his tone. “Still classified info.”
I nod. “I trust you. I’m just being extra cautious. That’s why next weekend has to stay on the low.”
“Don’t worry about that.” He opens the fridge, grabs one of the kombuchas I stocked for him. “The next house is more than a mile away. Private walk out to the beach.”
“That’s just what we need.” Time alone. I’d booked with Don next week. He’s the only one I can talk with openly about Luna… and Washington. Get that shit straight in my head before I lay it at her feet.
“So what’s happening in this town?” he asks.
“Summer Beach Festival.”
“I noticed some of the streets were closed off.”
“It’s a big event. Music tonight that I thought we could check out.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something.”
“I need to get there by noon for Diablo’s opening remarks. You can hang here if you want.”
“Nah, I’ll roll with you. Check out the beach.” He wiggles his brows. “See what all Bayside has to offer.”
I shake my head. Neo attracts women like a magnet.
I was the quiet one. Books. Structure. A late bloomer. Neo was parties and girls. Wild. Trouble. Drove my parents insane.
He’s still all good looks and swagger. He hasn’t mastered finesse yet. But I’m confident he will. One day.
I grab my keys, and we head to the beach.
Chapter Nineteen
DK
Diablo closes out the speech by calling his family onto the stage. Good PR. The wholesome optics package. It earns him applause and a burst of camera flashes.
There are boos too. More than I’d like. The waterfront is the line that splits Bayside in half.
Luna stands off to the side, walkie-talkie in one hand, iPad in the other. Wide-brim hat, partially covering her face. White cotton dress, loose except for the drawstring cinched at her waist, the hem brushing above her knee. Legs plump and silky soft. My dick stirs with the visceral memory of how they felt wrapped around my waist.
I drag my eyes away to get back to the job at hand. Diablo steps down from the stage, still smiling and waving. I intercept him before the press does.
“Was the booing as bad as it sounded?” he asks under his breath.
“It wasn’t good,” I tell him. “Stick to the script with reporters. Less is more. Smile. Arms around your family. The booing didn’tfaze you. Par for the course. You respect voter concerns and look forward to showing them your new expansion plan.”
“Got it,” he says.
“We’ll regroup on Monday.”
