CHAPTER 1
ROUX “RUBY” KIPLER
It’s beautiful. The ocean and the islands. The sun can be so blinding that I think my sunglasses are going to become a permanent part of my face since I feel like I never take them off, but it really is beautiful.
Hot without being suffocating, although it sounds like the guys disagree. I don’t find it miserable. I don’t mind the humidity at all. There’s almost always a breeze. Even a hot breeze is a breeze, and it’s rarely hot when the yacht is moving.
This is the second summer I’m joining my brother and his gay sports friends on this boat, though calling it a boat seems a little lame and doesn’t at all encompass this place. It’s decadent all the way around, like sailing around the ocean on a spa resort.
There are steam rooms, arctic rooms, a ridiculous gym, a wall-to-wall pool that’s called something beginning with an H. Honestly, if you can think of something off-the-wall luxurious, this yacht has it.
I’m not expecting anything less from a bunch of rich athletes. This is their yearly tradition. Sometime in June, they hop aboard theOpulenceand take a two-to-three-week cruise around the south of the US, stopping in ports and islands andsnorkeling.
Honestly, I’m excited to be aboard again. They’re all really kind.
This is kind of a special trip, extra long with extra stops. My brother is retiring from hockey this year and graduating to being a house boyfriend to his man Noah Kain, also a pro hockey player. It’s been retirement themed since we boarded two weeks ago.
I smile, leaning back in my chair and looking out over the ocean. We’re coming into the port of Isle of Kala. It’s not a big enough port to support a cruise ship, but an enormous yacht? Just barely.
A knock on my door has me taking a deep breath. Either it’s Gabe and I need to find the courage to tell him to go away—politely, of course—or it’s my brother, which makes me nervous for another reason entirely.
I’m getting ready to ask for help. Again.
Okay, not help, exactly. I’m exaggerating a little bit. I don’t need rescuing. Clearly, he’s already done that. I’m on the yacht, aren’t I? I don’t need rescuing this year. No abusive boyfriends to run away from.
Still... I feel like I run to my brother for everything, and like the good guy he is, he’s there in an instant. Last summer, he had the yacht make an extra stop in Southern California to pick me up. He helped—and paid—for me to transfer schools. When I didn’t feel comfortable being alone on an island with the guy who’d invited me, I called, and he came to spend the week with us. Last year, I stayed with him all summer. Right up until he had to go back to hockey, and I had to go back to school.
Someday, I’m going to show him how much I appreciate him. In the meantime, I need help again.
I peek out the peephole and release a breath. Not Gabe. I open the door, and my brother smiles. I’ve been told many times that I look like Lix. Only I’m younger, which apparently is very evident. Last summer, I heard a few guys on the yacht referring to me as the “younger Lix,” which was kind of amusing. Somepeople might be offended to live in their brother’s shadow, but I’m not in the least. I know how great my brother is. If I can be half as good a guy as him, I’ll consider that a success.
“Hey,” he says, handing me a plate of biscuits. “I know you probably had breakfast, but I scored these on the way down and you know I’m slightly obsessed with them.”
“Slightly.” I snort. “Right.”
Lix follows me into my room, letting the door shut behind him. Like a hotel, the doors shut hard, and we flinch when it slams.
We bypass the small seating area in the cabin and step out onto the balcony. I’m not sure why he gave me the upgraded room since he paid for it. I know the room he shares with Noah doesn’t have the Juliet balcony like this one does because I’ve been inside it.
Just another way my brother takes care of me—spoiling me, like he’s been doing all summer.
He joins me at the table on the balcony, and we each take a biscuit. Lix isn’t wrong. These are baked with drugs or something. They’re just biscuits, but for some reason, they’re so damn good. I practically moan every time I take a bite.
“We’re going to be arriving at Kala in a few hours,” Lix says.
My heart jumps, but I nod. “Yep.”
“You sure you want to stay?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling. I’m going for confidence. Hopefully, I pull it off.
“You have a few days to think about it while we remain at the dock,” he says. “If you’d like to reconsider.”
I sigh. “I’ll be okay. I need this.”
Most people would hear something different when I say that. They’d hear “I want to party all summer on someone else’s credit card.” Or “I want to live my sluttiest life while I’m young and single and hot.” They hear lots of things, and I’m not even going to pretend that they’d hear it for unrealistic reasons.
I have a lot of reasons to stay, though. I’m not going topretend it’s not a little selfish because my brother is paying for my stay with his credit card on file. Yes, I often feel like I’m taking advantage of him. I heard someone say that it’s more than $11,000 a week for a room on theOpulence. And yeah, holy fuck. He bought two rooms, one of which is for me.
