I don’t stop myself from lunging at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. The relief that his friend is alive is overwhelming after the torment I’ve been indulging in these past few hours.
“Sorry I didn’t return your message. I just got this news a half hour ago and wasn’t up to talking before that.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I spit out, wishing I hadn’t texted. He needed his space.
“Thank you for being supportive,” he says.
I hear a female’s laughter in the distance, and I glance past Noah, spotting Olivia having a conversation with one of the men. I think it’s Alexander. We haven’t chatted much.
Noah turns around to spot what I’m looking at. “Ah, Alex, the pediatric surgeon. He’s a good guy. Works a lot, but one of the good ones.”
“Hey, guys.” I turn around, finding Colin standing casually with a beer in his hand.
“Hey, Colin,” I repeat in a mirror tone.
“Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asks.
Noah looks fairly irritated, but steps back and waves his hand toward me, gesturing to Colin. “Have at it. I’ll catch you in a few,” Noah says, leaving me with a quick wink.
My heart deflates when he walks away, and my stomach churns while I remain here to have a fake conversation with Colin.
“So, I was wondering if you’d be interested in going out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Another forward one. A pre-planner for when his six months of celibacy are up.
“I don’t think so,” I tell him.
“Just as friends?”
“I still don’t think so,” I repeat.
“What’s Noah got that I don’t?”
A personality.
“What does Noah have to do with this?”
Colin shrugs and takes a swig from his beer while offering the ocean a contemplative longing look. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“So what?”
“I want a shot too.”
I snicker without hiding the snide inflection I’m purposely ensuing. “Yeah, I’m not a bull at a rodeo, bud.”
“I could be the bull if you’d prefer,” he counters.
“I think I’m all set, but thanks for the creepy offer.”
Colin sighs and shakes his head. “I’m just being real with you. I like you. I want to get to know you more.”
“I’ve got nothing,” I tell him.
“You’re supposed to get to know all of us before making a decision.”
This time my laugh is more from anger. I sometimes laugh when I’m angry, and well, I might look a little crazed right now. “I’m not actually for sale; I’m not a prize. I’m not up for grabs, and I don’t know how else to explain this to you.”
“We were told an attractive, young, single woman would be living on the property, and one of us might be lucky enough to sweep you off your feet.”
“Were you?” I’m not surprised to hear this. I figured most of this out based on the other facts. “Still not up for grabs.” I tap my hand against his chest. “Good luck, though.”
