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“Yeah, well you two can just go be impulsive lovestruck idiots together,” I say firmly, recovering. “I’ll stick with being a mature, rational adult, thank you very much.”
Mature… rational… and determined to tear all of Josh’s clothes off and ravish him on the bedroom floor.
The two things aren’t mutually exclusive, thank God.
I sneak a look at my phone, checking the time. Just how long until we’re back at the resort and I can subtly invite Josh back to my room? Or, you know, drag him there.
“Somewhere you want to be?” Ivy asks with a knowing smile.
“Nope!” I shove my phone back in my purse and beam. “Things are great right here.”
Laughter comes, and I see the pack of groomsmen horsing around now, taking swings with the croquet mallets. Ivy follows my gaze. “Boys and their toys,” she says, looking amused. “They always have to find out who has the biggest stick.”
“You'd think they'd grow out of it by now,” I agree, as one of the older men – Bucky, I think -- thwacks a ball, sending it soaring down the beach into the darkness. The others follow in turn, hitting with all their might.
“Twenty bucks says they break something,” Ivy proposes.
I laugh. “No bet. Let’s just hope it’s not the champagne fountain.”
“Or my nose.” She grins. “Hey, did you hear from Lottie about her presentation? She’s been texting Reeve for public speaking tips, and he told her?—"
A ball suddenly hurtles over our heads, heading straight for –
The tank.
CRACK. It smashes into the glass like a missile, before falling into the jungle.
Ivy pauses beside me, looking up. “That thing will hold, won’t it?”
She doesn’t sound certain. Neither am I.
We both take a step back.
“Guys?” I call over to Avery and Robert, still posing for photos below the tank, oblivious to the cracks now radiating out across the glass like spiderwebs. “Hey, guys,” I shout louder. “You might want to move! The tank could maybe?—”
WHOOSH.
It’s too late. The glass gives way and I watch in horror as three tons of neon goo come flooding out of the aquarium…
Straight onto the happy couple’s heads.
11
HAZEL
“Get. This. Stuff. Off of me!”
The speedboat bumps across the dark bay, ferrying us back to the resort in double-quick time. But not quickly enough for Avery, who stands in the middle of the deck, her elegant dress drenched head-to-toe in wild splashes of neon goop. “Get it off!” she wails.
"I’m so sorry,” Josh tells them, looking like he’s trying not to laugh. “We were just messing around, and my grip slipped, and it flew off in the wrong direction.”
“It’s OK, kid,” Robert says, dabbing his face with a towel. He’s still got neon goo all over his suit, too, and glitter streaks in his hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind all that much. “It was an accident, right sweetheart?” he nudges Avery.
“An accident?” she echoes, practically shaking with goo-covered rage.
“It’s like getting slimed, at the Kids Choice Awards!” Brooke pipes up, encouraging.
Avery gives her a withering stare. “I didn’t sit through a month of fittings for my custom Valentino dress just to have itruinedby your stupid games! I can’t believe you would be such andidiot, and?—”
