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My towel is laid flat, and with my butt firmly in place, I lather up to avoid the scorching sun and its deathly rays. Both Emerson and Charlie have great bodies. It’s impossible not to admire their nicely tanned skin, curves in all the right places, and bikinis that show off their toned physiques.

I can’t be any paler. My bikini isn’t even a bikini. It’s a halter crop-top and little shorts. I bought it eight years ago when Phoebe and I planned a trip to Miami for spring break which fell through because we both got mono the day before.

“I really love your swimsuit. In fact, I love the dresses you wear.” Emerson compliments me, passing a bottle of iced tea which she retrieved from a cooler. “Not to sound ungrateful, I love getting free clothes, but I wish they would have me wear some different styles.”

I can’t relate. Emerson has a different life. Designers throw themselves at her, and she’s somewhat obliged to wear their designs. I shop at Target. Occasionally, Walmart. It wasn’t a problem until I arrived here. Emerson loves to talk about clothes, telling us about her fitness line and what new items will be on the racks in Australia.

I crave the girl-time, grateful that Emerson wants to hang out. We talk about life, their kids, Emerson’s current dilemma with Logan wanting another kid.

Charlie’s quick to give her two cents. “See, this is the problem with men. They have no concept of how difficult being pregnant is. Nine months of uncomfortable swelling, not to mention indigestion and heartburn,” Charlie complains.

“And gas. Do you know how embarrassing it is when you can’t control a fart in public?” Emerson adds, scowling behind her oversized shades.

I clutch my stomach, giggling at the thought. They both laugh as well, Emerson continuing her story of the time she accidentally silent-farted during a live taping on a show only to have the crew complain later about how much something stunk.

“Sorry, Milana. It’s not like we’re trying to put you off but just be warned.” Charlie giggles.

“Nah, all good. Don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“As in kids?” Emerson questions, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Yeah, kids, babies. Aside from my brother, I’ve never spent much time around them. They’re cute, but I don’t have this yearn for them like most women.”

“And this guy back home?” Emerson asks. “Haven’t you guys been together for a bit?”

“Oh.” Charlie grins. “There’s a guy back home? I always pictured that whole ‘guy back home’ to be this wholesome unbelievably gorgeous man with light eyes and messy hair. He wears a white tee and ripped jeans. Calls you some adorable nickname because he’s known you forever.”

“I think you just described Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise. Does he wear a cowboy hat, too?” Emerson chuckles.

Charlie sits herself up, grinning. “Oh, and he’s a mechanic. A little rough but so sweet.”

I can barely contain my laughter. “That’s Liam all right. Everything but the cowboy hat.”

“Oh, do tell.” Charlie moves in closer to me. “Let me live vicariously through you.”

“Charlie!” Emerson scolds. “If Lex heard you say that, you’d be in the dog house forever. Charlie’s husband is one of those alpha possessive males. The kind you read about in books.”

“Um… hello? And you think Logan is not? Please, Logan is equally as bad as Lex. At least Lex can tolerate Julian being around. Whenever Wesley is anywhere around you, Logan turns into a creature of jealousy.”

A lump forms in my throat, my ability to swallow crippled by the mention of his name. I don’t want to show how much it affects me, trying to hold onto the part of the conversation that doesn’t quite make sense.

“You look confused.” Charlie laughs, taking a deep breath afterward. “Julian is kind of my ex.”

“Fiancé,” Emerson chimes in. “Married to Lex’s sister.”

“Oh, okay, wow. That’s, um… confusing, and awkward to be around him?” I raise my brows, curious to her response.

“Yes and no. I’m not awkward around him. Julian is mature and such a great guy. It just wasn’t right between us. He loves Lex’s sister. It’s just that Lex had a hard time adjusting. They’re much better now. They don’t exactly hang out alone, but can be in the same space and hold a conversation.”

She bumps her shoulder against Emerson, laughing at a private joke. “Unlike this one here. So, how much do you know about Wesley?”

Emerson rolls her eyes, falling back onto the towel and throwing the large sunflower hat over her face. “She doesn’t need to know about him. Trust me, you don’t.”

“I’ve met him twice. He’s a little, um—”

“Moronic?” Charlie adds with a grievance. “Immature? Still hopelessly in love with Emerson which is why he’s holding onto the business?”

“Twice?” Emerson questions, sitting up. “I thought you only met him once at that meeting?”

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