I return her embrace, dropping my book. "Yay! We're in Bali."
"So?" she pants. "We jumped out of a fucking plane!"
I sit up and she slides onto the side of the sunbed. "You what?" I gasp.
"Yep. They didn't even tell us. They just strapped onparachutes, connected us to them with harnesses, and jumped. Out. Of. The. Fucking. Airplane. I'm not even kidding you!"
I feel terrible all of a sudden. My stomach threatens to create knots because, for the first time since all of this Butcher boy stuff started, I'm concerned about Flick and whether she knows the depth of their secrets. I wonder if she'd care.
"Wow." She's clearly high on adrenaline, wired and smiling from ear to ear. "You're obviously all okay, though?" I ask.
"Yeah. They apparently do this kind of thing all the time."
Of course they do.
"That sounds amazing." As I slide back down onto my sunbed, wriggling a little to get comfortable, Flick moves to the bed beside mine.
She pauses, ogling me. "Cassidy Slater, those bathers are gorgeous."
I squeeze my lips to hide my smile. "Thank you."
She shuffles slightly to get a better view and observes every inch of me. "They are evil! I love them."
"They aren't evil... The red ones were evil."
"Um, I've never seen you wear anything like this before. Sexy as fuck, sister."
I laugh and glance over my sunglasses. "You're not my type."
Stacey joins Flick soon after we have caught up on all things light-hearted and have settled down to drink some cocktails. The sun's thick presence massages warmth into my muscles, and I bat my eyes closed as Stacey and Flick natter beside me. I drift into a fuzzy, warm world of muted, splashy giggles. Several long seconds pass before the sound of a playful scream causes my eyes to flicker backopen.
I watch as a group of excited girls run down the steps. They're screaming and laughing, but all my attention is on Max. He and his brothers, one of which I don't know, are caught in the midst of the girls' chaos for only a moment. And then they're free and every inch of Max's beautiful form is bared to me. I stare directly at him, but he doesn't notice me.
Until he does.
Flipping over onto my belly, I rest my head on my forearm. I'm feigning confidence right now as my heart vibrates against the plastic cushions of the sunbed. Taking a big breath, I try to ignore the commotion and will myself to stay in my own lethargic, lazy, romantic Bali.
"Cassidy," Flick whispers. "Max is fucking you with his eyes right now."
I bite my lips to stifle the silly little girl smile—isn’t that what it is? A silly little girl smile. "I'm sure he's not."
My skin is humming from just having heard her say those words though. I'm aching everywhere for his lips. And that is precisely why I'm trying to mentally escape right now. If I look up and see his eyes mentally stripping me, I'll turn into a smouldering puddle of need.
"Felicity, don’t," I hear Stacey say, and I twist my head to face them.
Flick rolls her eyes. "Don’t what? It's not subtle. He hasn't taken his eyes off her arse since he got here."
"Please," Stacey mutters. "Leave it. It's not a good idea."
It's not a good idea?
Stacey really is a Butcher; she even talks like one.
"What does that mean?" Flick asks. "Why isn't it a good idea?—"
Stacey smiles tightly. "Look, this holiday is about the boys. You two need to behave or you won't get an invite nexttime. I've seen these situations go wrong because girls get on their nerves. Especially Clay and Max, okay? Just be good."
My loud sigh is inadvertent. Sitting up, I grab my purse and walk towards the bar.
