Page 24 of Trust Fund Baby

Roxie didn’t respond right away. She picked up her bag from a bench in the hallway and said, “As long as I’m far away from him.”

I held a hand to my chest. “Ouch.”

She shot me a glare, then shouldered past me and up the stairs with enough force to nearly knock me off balance.

Hallie winced. “About that … the only two rooms free are right next to each other. We’re sharing the primary. Sebastian and James are in the room next door.”

“Great,” Roxie replied with a smile that seemed to radiate sarcasm.

“Oh no,” I called after her, laying it on thick. “How terrible for you. I hope you brought earplugs, darling. I snore.”

She didn’t dignify that with a response, only disappeared down the hallway.

James turned to me, clearly unimpressed. “Is this going to be a problem?”

With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I gave him my most innocent grin. “Why would you assume there’ll be a problem?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re you. And there’s clearly something going on between you and Roxie.”

I ascended the first few stairs to reach him. “This is going to be fun, James. Don’t you think?”

I could feel James’s gaze, heavy and unwavering, on the back of my head as I finished climbing the stairs and went in the direction where Roxie had disappeared.

The guest room had James’s mother written all over it. A perfectly curated suite with crisp white linens and just enough nautical-themed art to remind you that you were near the ocean without hitting you over the head with it. The renovation had clearly been invested in making the space modern, moving it away from the seventies-style dark wood that I remembered from the years growing up here.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a second—which was not nearly big enough to share with James—letting the silence settle. Relishing the escape from my city duties, if only briefly. For the first time in days, I wasn’t being asked to answer to anyone. No back-to-back meetings. No calls. No polite small talk with the board. Just this house, the ocean air, and unfortunately for my sanity … Roxie King.

I’d left the door to my room ajar and caught a flicker of movement outside. There she was, moving across the hall with that effortless grace she’d always had. Her hair was tied up in a loose knot, revealing the slope of her neck, and her tank top clung to her back, which made my pulse quicken a little.

I should’ve looked away. I really should have. Closed the door. Respected whatever sliver of distance we were pretending to maintain.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I watched.

She bent at the waist, rummaging through her bag, her shorts riding just slightly higher as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. The muscles in my jaw tightened. She stood a beat later and peeled off her top in one smooth motion, revealing the thin black straps of a bikini top tied around her neck. My breath caught low in my throat as she turned toward me again, now fully dressed for the pool. Or undressed, depending on how you looked at it.

The black bikini hugged her hips; her waist cinched perfectly beneath the sheer cream cover-up she’d thrown over her shoulders. Her legs were as long as ever, her skin golden already from the bit of sun we’d gotten in the city, and her sunglasses were pushed into her hair.

She knocked the breath clean out of my lungs.

Roxie didn’t glance toward my room. Or pause like she felt my stare. She was probably used to people looking at her like that … and I kind of hated how that thought bothered me.

She moved toward the staircase with long strides—completely unbothered, totally sure of herself. My fingers curled into the edge of the comforter. I hated how intimately I remembered that confidence. How I was completely at her mercy at seventeen.

And judging by the ache now settling low in my spine, I still was.

Without a second thought, I stood and changed into a pair of linen shorts and a button-up—yanking off my suit jacket and shedding my dress pants. If she wanted to sunbathe by the pool and pretend I didn’t exist, fine. But she’d have to do it while I existed right next to her.

I had barely finished buttoning my linen shirt as I made my way down the stairs, already catching a glimpse of Roxie at the bottom. She didn’t look at me, didn’t slow her pace, just made a beeline for the backyard with a towel slung over one arm and a book gripped loosely in her hand. Her cover-up was sheer enough to be maddening.

She might have pretended she didn’t see me, but she moved like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

“I’m good,” she said, brushing off Hallie’s offer to run into town with them for food. “I’m going to lie out by the pool with my book.”

There was a tightness in her voice she was trying to disguise as casual, but I’d known Roxie long enough to recognize when she was barely hanging on. That clipped tone. That was her trying to stay in control.

I was getting under her skin. Good.