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“Question,” he said, still naked from the waist up and too sexy to be allowed. “Did you think I was going to propose when I came out of the bathroom?”
“You are such an asshole.”
“I’m just saying, Summer, you and I both don’t want anything emotional. That’s not what this was. It was just a physical thing. It always has been.”
I didn’t let the hurt show on my face. Back in high school, I’d fallen for him. Finding out it was “just a physical thing” for him officially cured me of wanting to do this ever again. He’d effectively dismissed my past feelings.
“Fine,” I shrugged. “I was just worried that you would get attached. I don’t need a man in my life, and I never have.”
“Good.” He nodded.
Asshole. Thick-dicked asshole.
“It was nothing,” I continued. “But we could still get caught doing this kind of ‘nothing’ act, so it’s probably best we don’t let it happen again.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow.”
“There won’t be any need for that,” I said, rising from the bed. “You should go.”
“I should.” He paused a second, eyeing me. “Try not to dream about me.”
“Try not to let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
Matt chuckled. He slipped on his broken shirt, swaggered forward, and kissed me on the forehead before I had a chance to react. “Sleep tight, Summer.” And then he was out the door and gone.
Chapter Eight
Matt
I stood under the shade of the trees along the beach, my phone pressed to my ear, annoyed by the ringing and by the fact that I couldn’t get last night’s interlude out of my mind.
Summer naked. Summer moaning. Summer defiant because she didn’t want to admit that she liked me. And shit, I wasn’t about to do that either. This was just physical. It would remain that way.
You’re terrible at lying to yourself. You know she’s special. There’s always been a connection there.
“Baker.” Paul’s voice came down the line. “Thanks for the call.”
“I saw you tried to get hold of me this morning.”
“I have some news for you regarding Cruz,” he said. “I thought you’d like to know ASAP.”
“What’s up?”
“My sources tell me he’s in Florida. Miami, to be exact,” Paul said.
My shoulders relaxed, and the tension that had been sitting there for the past few days released. “Good news. Do you have anything else? Is it possible that any of his associates are on the island?”
“That, I don’t know. But I can keep an eye out for you. Any suspicious movement related to Cruz, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I appreciate it.”
“No problem, buddy. Look, you enjoy yourself out there. My hunch says this Cruz guy is small-time. He hung out with the big boys, but I doubt he’d get his own hands dirty. More like liaison, feel me?”
“Got it,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
We hung up, and I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my shorts. Bright red shorts. Paired with a tank top that was covered in hearts. If I didn’t loved my sister to the moon and back, I would have berated her for the ridiculous getup, but it was all part of the plan.
Her Valentine’s Day-themed wedding now had events. Volleyball on the beach.
“Come on, everyone!” Emmy called from near the court down below. Everything had been set up by the hotel staff, and there was even a bar nearby, underneath the shade of several umbrellas. “Gather round. We need to discuss the rules.”
The women wore tiny red booty shorts and tank tops, and Summer was among them. I tore my gaze away from her and came down to stand with the group of groomsmen and the groom-to-be.
“All right.” Emilia clapped her hands, her expression brimming with excitement. “So today we’re having some beach fun. Volleyball and then a picnic with drinks.”
“Do we, like, have to do this now?” Chastity groaned from behind a pair of shades. “I have a headache.”
“Chastity, it’s eleven a.m., not two a.m.. It’s not like I dragged you out of bed at an ungodly hour,” Emmy said.
“That’s your opinion.” Chastity sank backward, massaging her temples.
“All right,” Emmy said. “So here’s how it works. We’re split into two teams, the cupids and the hearts. If you have hearts on your tank top, you’re on the heart team, and if you have cupids, well, you get where I’m going with this, right?”
“Split up into your teams, guys,” Scott called. “Hearts on that side, cupids here.”
I strode over to the hearts group.
Summer did too, her breasts trapped beneath a tank top that was a shade too tight. She fiddled with it, fussing and grunting, then looked up and spotted me. “Hello,” she said stiffly.
“Hello.” Equally formal. I placed my phone on the bar top with a couple others. “This should be fun.”
“Sure.”
Chastity, also wearing hearts, groaned and pinched her nose. There were a few groomsmen with us, including Jacob King and another dude whose name had slipped my mind.
