He gave her a wary, confused look. “Okay.”
“Maybe that’s what I need more of this week. Fun.”
“You want to head back to that bar for dinner again?”
“Or find a place with more dancing?”
“You want to go dancing again.” It wasn’t a question. More of a flat, disbelieving statement.
She frowned. “Don’t tell me you think I need to have a mourning period over my broken engagement.”
“No.” But his jaw flexed and he looked away from her. Okay, so she’d jerked the conversation around a bit, but did he need to be such a downer?
Judgment from Logan Dwyer about her having a little fun now that she was single again? “I’m not going to have some random island hook-up.” Although why shouldn’t she? She shoved to her feet and yanked off her t-shirt. She’d worn a sturdy one-piece under her clothes for this exact reason. It was time to go swimming. Enough talking.
“Tori, stop…”
“No, Logan.” She shoved her hands into her hair. Restless, nervous energy zig-zagged through her body. “You stop. Stop trying to be a protective big brother to me, okay? I’ve done the safe, smart thing my entire life, and look where that’s landed me.”
He moved toward her and she stepped back, undoing her shorts. Her heel bumped into one of the large, flat rocks around their lunch spot and she hopped up on it. Ha. Now she was taller than him. She kicked off her shorts and pointed her finger down at him at the same time, a move that probably wasn’t as impressive as it felt, but she’d take her victories where she could find them. “If I want to have no-strings-attached, dirty sex this week, I’m going to, and you’re not going to stop me. Do I make myself clear?”
His eyes glittered with frustration. “Perfectly. Now get your gorgeous ass down off that rock before you—”
“Stop. Bossing. Me. Around.” She jerked away from him as he reached for her, only realizing at the last second that in doing so, she was spinning herself off the rock—and into the dark turquoise pool at the base of the waterfall.
