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“Hey, we can be buddies if you ever feel lonely.”
Summer picks up her glass, eyeing me with half a smile. “Are you propositioning me?”
“I’m single, you’re single. I offer a week of great, no-strings-attached fun. But if you’d prefer to mope alone over spilled milk…”
She takes a sip of wine while studying my face, her eyes lowering to my mouth.
I’m already thinking I have this in the bag when she says, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
My expression must crumble, because Summer adds, “Oh, please, don’t sad-dog me; I’m sure you’ll find another hookup by tomorrow night.”
“May I ask why the hard pass?” I make a half-cute, half-dismayed pout. “Am I not handsome enough?”
“Oh, you’re very handsome.” She finishes the wine and places the glass on the counter. “But I don’t have to tell you that, right?” Her eyes return to my mouth. “Even if I’ve never much cared for”—her hands waver in the general direction of my chin—“facial hair.”
“You mean my beard?” I exclaim, pulling at it. “Ladies all over the world have loved it.”
“And that’s the other thing. Lately, I’m trying to make smart decisions—”
“And smart and fun are mutually exclusive in your vocabulary?”
“I’ve slept with a total of three men in my life—”
“I’m sorry, how old are you?”
“Twenty-nine going on spinster, why?”
“How did you manage to sleep with only three dudes?”
“Easy, I was with the same guy high school through grad school—”
“The hockey fan?”
“Him, Robert. Then I had a bad rebound, followed by an even worse one that ruined my life and after that, I swore off men and am enjoying a protracted celibacy.” She raises her glass in a mock toast and tilts her head appraisingly. “While you, you’ve probably slept with as many women in the past month, if not more. This arrangement you propose wouldn’t carry the same weight for both of us.” She extends a hand toward me. “Friends?”
I groan. “What is it with the Knowles sisters and just wanting to be my friends?”
Summer smiles. “Genes?”
I take her hand, not yet ready to accept defeat. As I get up, I pull in close to her, bending down to whisper in her ear, “I’m in room 452 if you change your mind. I can make you forget your name if that’s what you need to get through the week.”
4
SUMMER
Archie’s breath is a warm caress down my neck. I swallow, trying to keep it together. No man has touched me in months, and my skin is singing at the unexpected attention. Tingles shoot up my arm from where our hands are joined, and having his mouth so close to my ear is making my entire body heat up.
With such proximity, I can smell Archie’s scent. A mix of clean soap, an expensive citrusy perfume, and bare masculinity.
I swallow and meet his stare made of icy blue eyes now crinkled with mischief.
Another whispered word, another touch, and I’ll beg him to bring me to his room and make me forget my name. But thank goodness, he doesn’t add anything. The best man nods in farewell as he lets go of my hand and walks away toward the elevators, looking unfairly hot for someone wearing sweatpants.
Yeah, staring at his round behind bobbing down the hall won’t help me stick to smart choices, so I look away.
My gaze lands on the entrance’s revolving doors where, to my horror, two of my ex-friends, Susan and Daria, are walking into the hotel, carry-on luggage in tow behind them.
The first ghosts from my past have arrived.
