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Something vibrates against the inside of my thigh and I try to ignore it and focus on Conrad’s hands and mouth on me and the delicious feeling between my thighs.
Conrad drops his head onto the bed beside me. “Fuck,” he whispers, clearly annoyed.
Standing up but still remaining between my open legs, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. I can tell he isn’t happy about whoever is calling him by the anger coming over his face. He looks at me, torn between wanting to continue where we left off and speaking to whoever is on the other end of the line.
“I need to take this. Why don’t you go downstairs and I’ll meet you in a few minutes for dinner?”
Without another word, he walks away toward the window. In hushed tones, he answers the call, and I can hear an angry voice on the other end.
Not wanting to bother him or eavesdrop, I leave the room and make my way down the stairs to join our friends as they make their tacos from everything Blaire and Trazia put together.
It’s more than half an hour before Conrad comes downstairs. He is cold and distant as he gets his own food, and when he sits beside me—the only open seat—I can tell something is different. He doesn’t look or touch me as he sits there eating his tacos. Too immersed in conversation, I don’t think anyone else notices the change in him. After he scarfs down his third taco, he excuses himself and goes to bed.
No look in my direction. No kiss good night. No offer for me to come up with him.
I have grown accustomed to Conrad having these weird distant moments during our six months of dating, but they are becoming too frequent, and I don’t know how much more I can take. Sometimes he makes me wonder if he even wants to be with me, but then there are the sweet moments. And those are the ones I live for. The times he tucks my hair behind my ear when he wants to see my entire face or when he comes to my work to drop off my favorite foods because he knows I always forget to pack a meal. Anytime I’m feeling down about our relationship, I try to remember the sweet times, and I know he cares for me deeply.
Something is wrong, though, and I’m worried about the state of us because of it.
4
CONRAD
Day fucking one of our trip, and I get a call from my father. It’s put me in a horrible mood, and I know it is unfair to Emree, but pretending there isn’t something wrong is becoming harder.
Two nights ago, my dad called to inform me that because of my delayed responses to my mom regarding the women I would like to meet, he had made the decision for me. One woman has decided on the arranged marriage already without meeting me, and, luckily for him, it was his top pick.
The casino man’s twenty-year-old daughter. Liliana Hawthorne.
Liliana is a year younger than me and we went to prep school together. I vaguely remember her, but she seems to know me enough to agree to become my wife. The thought of that alone makes me feel queasy. The whole idea of what our parents have planned for us is wrong, but anytime I bring that up to my dad, he leaves no room for argument and goes into a lecture on family obligations and what my role is as his oldest son. How he did the exact same thing for his family when he married my mom, who came from a well-known family that made millions with their air and cruise line, as well as luxury resorts all over the world.
I’m too lost in thought about my impending future that the ball Maddox kicked back to me goes flying past me on the right and rolls through the sand.
He throws his hands out. “Dude, what the hell? You should have been able to stop that.”
Shaking my head, I clear all thoughts of my family and focus on the now. “Yeah, sorry. Spaced out there for a moment.”
Running through the sand, I reach the ball and kick it back to Maddox with the inside of my foot. It flies through the air directly toward him and he stops it with his shin, dribbling it with the top of his foot before kicking it over to Levi.
Leaving them to continue their game, I head over to where everyone else is hanging out in chairs and on towels. Blaire and Trazia are reading, something the two of them have been doing every day since we got here, while Camden, Mateo, and Jules are lying on towels, absorbing the sun. Emree is reading a fashion magazine in one of the low-sitting chairs, which she bought at the gas station up the street yesterday.
Heading toward her, I drop down into the seat beside hers.
She looks up and smiles. “Hey, you. You were looking good out there.”
I lean forward and softly kiss her lips before pulling back. Licking my lips, I savor her cherry flavor. There are going to be many things I’ll miss about Emree, but that is going to be at the top of the list. Never have I met a girl who not only always tastes good but smells good too. “Good for us to mess around like that since we have no practice this week.”
She nods, agreeing, and goes back to reading the article in front of her.
With her focus on whatever she’s reading, I take in the girl who has me breaking my own rules. We only have a few more days at the beach house, and I hate that I’ve already wasted two keeping myself at a distance. I know this is the last week before I have to come out with the truth and not only break her heart but mine as well. Instead of being distant, I need to relish these moments with the girl I am crazy about. Losing her is going to hit me hard.
Leaning to the side, I kiss Emree’s bare shoulder, making my way to her neck. She giggles but tilts her head to allow me better access. Her skin is slightly damp from the heat, and she smells like the bronzing oil she’s been using.
“What are you doing?” she asks me, not looking away from her magazine.
“Oh, nothing,” I tell her, my breath against her neck causing her to shiver. “You look sexy in your new suit, baby.”
Emree decided to wear the skimpy bathing suit after I told her several times this morning it was hot and looked perfect on her. The top’s cups are triangle-shaped and trimmed with white ruffles. It’s secured against her body with thin strings around her neck and back. The shape showcases her amazing, full breasts. The bottoms are high-waisted and pink, matching the top, with the same white ruffles along the edges.
