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“I don’t know what you mean.” I decide to try not engaging, as she obviously wants to get rid of her frustration by having a fight. “Weren’t you getting a surfing lesson?”
And cue eye roll. She scoots closer to me, looking me straight in the eye. “Have you fucking seen the surfing instructor?” She lets out a little shiver and a giggle, and I don’t fucking blame her at all because… I’ve seen the surfing instructor, and I have to work hard to not picture that perfect body, the golden hair that framed his face like a halo, and the stormy depths of those dark blue eyes.
Damn it, I know I’m blushing. It’s seriously a fucking curse that totally ruins my attempt at a poker face.
“Yeah, so?”
The way Chelsea shakes her head reassures me that she couldn’t care less if I noticed that Brady was hot because this is all about her, as usual.
“Well fuck, Greer! Obviously you arrived when I was about to close the deal with him, and thanks to you, I didn’t manage to book another session.”
I remain quiet and wait for her next move, because from where I was standing, she wasn’t closing any deal. Brady didn’t look interested in buying whatever my sister was selling and went out of his way to avoid committing to more lessons with her—to the point that he offeredmesurfing lessons.
“Now I’ll have to try to find out where his room is. Maybe I’ll have to go to thestaff quarters…”
She barely manages to suppress a disgusted shudder as she says “staff quarters,” as if she were talking about some kind of slums. I mean, I’m sure the staff accommodations aren’t as opulent as the guest ones, but this is a five-star resort, so it can’t be that bad, right?
“Chel, are you sure that getting involved with Brady is a good idea? He’s staff and—”
My sister takes my words the wrong way. I’m just trying to say that the guy only seemed interested in doing his job, but she thinks I mean that he’s beneath us.
“Duh! I’m not trying to marry him, I just want to see what Brady has to offer to make my summer a little more interesting, maybe even a little dirty.”
The idea of a dirty summerwith the hot surfing instructor causes a rush of heat to flare in my lower belly and all the way up to my face, and I’m positive I’m blushing.
Brady’s blue eyes aren’t the only ones that come to my mind when I think about a hot summer fling. The chef’s tan forearms and his deep, commanding voice surface in my memory, and the green eyes of our driver and the slight roughness of his hands come to mind at the same time.
I shake my head, trying to take my mind out of the gutter. Maybe I should stop reading so many romance novels. “But Chel, I thought you liked that guy on your friend’s yacht? Taylor or Tyler?”
Chelsea’s giggle isn’t derisive this time, more conspiratorial as she lowers her voice as if she was sharing a secret with me like when we were kids.
“Oh sure, Tyler’s hot and definitely boyfriend material. But last fall I had a thing with this guy who was doing some construction work on campus and… These blue-collar types are a lot of fun. They fuck so dirty. It totally makes up for the lack of expensive presents and the shabby places they live in. The stuff Danny could make me feel in his little cot in his parents’ crappy basement…”
I try to hide my shock at Chelsea’s confession. I had a hunch that she had a boyfriend, but this?
“Hmm, so you like Brady?”
This time her giggle is cruel. “Get back into your playpen, Greer! We aren’t in kindergarten recess anymore, sis! Brady’s hot, and I want to see what he has to offer, but he isn’t worth more than a few hot fucks to make up for all the fun I’m missing out on thanks to our parents’ obsession with having us spend the summer in this hell hole. The one Ilikeis Tristan, and you’re getting in the way with him too.”
Yeah, right. She can have Tristan, seriously.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
She suddenly gets up, sliding her dress down her thighs. “Listen, Tristan’s buddies from Yale just arrived. Just find yourself someone to hang out with and leave Tristan to me.”
I don’t say anything, realizing that my sister is totally delusional if she thinks I did anything to attract Tristan’s attention.
“By the way, I came here to tell you that we’re meeting them all on the veranda for pre-dinner cocktails. You should hurry the fuck up and get ready.”
I rise, smoothing a little crease from the skirt of my summer dress. “I’m ready.”
“You’re coming to dinner inthat?” She cackles. “Wait until Mom sees you!”
I look at my pale blue cotton summer dress with lace trim on the straps and the hem. “Why, what’s wrong with—”
She storms out, muttering something about my lack of fashion sense, and I follow her, throwing a wistful look at my book and bracing myself at the idea of Tristan and his friends.
