AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sexiest Man Alive.” Archie scoffs. “That’s debatable.”
“Sorry, Golden Boy.” Winter cuts him a sideways look over her Pad Thai. “The man’s aesthetic supremacy is certified.”
Golden Boy? What is that? Is she flirting?
“How’s that possible, Snowflake?” my friend challenges.
Really? Golden Boy, Snowflake? Are they using nicknames now?
Just no.
“Ever readPeoplemagazine?” Winter asks. “He’s on the cover every year about the time when they release the Sexiest Man Alive chart.”
“Your friend is dating someone famous?” I ask.
“Yup, Christian Slade,” she confirms.
“Oh,” Somchai enters the conversation for the first time. “He very good actor. Love his movies.”
“Yeah, right?” Winter says. “And he’s a pretty decent dude, too.”
Archie takes a sip of white wine. “So, come again, why are you still mad at your sister? Is she still dating the other guy?”
“No, she broke up with him because it turned out he was an even bigger ass than just being a cheating cockroach—long story.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But that only makes the affair cheaper.”
“How?” Tucker asks.
“Because my sister screwed up her life over a douchebag that isn’t worth her pinky toe, and now she’s a castaway. Everyone knows what happened, thanks to the douche, and she’s the one who’s ended up having to go around with the figurative Scarlet Letter on her chest. She’s all sad and alone… and when Summer suffers, I suffer…”
I have to admit, I don’t really care about the soap opera drama and can’t help but think women enjoy complicating things for themselves, but that last sentence startles me. “Your twin’s name is Summer?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“That’s—ouch!”
“Sorry, dude,” Archie says. “Table’s a bit crammed,” he adds as a makeshift apology for stomping his don’t-mock-their-names boot hard on my foot.
“You were saying?” Winter asks, with a smile so sweet it scares the living daylights out of me.
“Compelling names,” I deflect.
She turns her gaze to Archie. “You always have to kick good manners into him?”
Archie throws back his head in a hearty laugh. “No,” he admits. “Logan’s usually the good boy. I don’t know what’s got into him today.” He arches a mocking brow at me.
“Must be the tropical air,” I sulk, polishing the last grains of rice off my plate. My legs are really starting to feel all those kicks. Good thing we’re mostly driving tomorrow.
An awkward silence follows.
Tucker breaks it by clearing his throat. “Well, if everyone is finished, I suggest calling it a night. Wake-up call is going to be a bitch tomorrow.”
Thank goodness this dinner is over.
Relieved, I throw my napkin on my plate as we all stand up to leave the restaurant.
Winter, heedless of Tucker’s recommendation for an early bedtime, steps toward the beach.
“I’ll go take a few quick shots by the water and then head to bed like a good girl.”
