“Harmless? They're the size of Shetland ponies!?” My voice cracks and West and Haze’s chuckles grow louder as my heartbeat hammers like a drum in my ears, my chest heaving uncontrollably. “Stop fucking laughing and kick them or something!”
“Okay. Umm. Don’t panic,” Beau says, holding out his hands, his eyes not leaving the horrid lizards for a second. Great. My knight in shining armor is no better than I am. “They’re probably more scared of us than we are of them…right?” If he’s trying to soothe me, he’s doing a shit job.
“Oh? They’re afraid of us!My bad.I couldn't tell by the way their tongues hang out of their mouths, staring at me like I’m on their fucking menu!” I reply, too afraid to move in case one of them gets any ideas and tries to follow me.
“They won’t hurt you. They’re just curious. They think you have food.” This comes from a very unhelpful West, and when I meet the eyes of one of the iguanas, I swear, it tilts its spiked head in an evil, horror movie gesture, before it starts running toward me.
“Fuck!Noo, no, no!” Panic hits me with full force and without thinking, I jump, my limbs flying out in every direction before landing straight into the arms of Beau. A veryshirtlessBeau.
Nobody says a word as I stare up at him. His eyes are prettier than I remember. One so blue it’s almost the color of the sky, the other a mix of green and amber and they’re both locked on me. Wow, he’s pretty. His brown hair is tied back, loose strands brushing the sides of his handsome face and threaded with those natural highlights you only get from spending time in the sun. And his tattoos… they snake over his shoulders and down his muscular arms, dark ink against his golden skin. He’s come a long way since high school. I’ve seen him around town over the years, passed him on the street, caught glimpses of him here and there, but I guess I never really paid much attention, because the man holding me right now is nothing like the quiet, nerdy guy who used to pass me in the halls at school, looking like he’d rather swallow a bunch of needles than talk to me.
Haze clears his throat behind us and I glance over to see him giving West a knowing look. West ignores him, standing with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, his gaze fixed anywhere but on Beau and me. Right. Well, that answers that. I can tell by the way he refuses to look at me that he’s just as humiliated by what happened at the show last night as I am. Maybe more. Avoidance might not erase what happenedbetween us, but I am all for pretending that it didn’t if it means zero drama.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night. And no, it wasn’t because I was still riding the high of winning fifty thousand dollars, because what the actual fuck?! I haven’t even begun to fully process that yet. It was because I couldn’t get that kiss out of my head. This week has been the most chaotic week of my entire life, and now I’ve added a life-altering, chemistry-fueled kiss with a man I don’t even know, who also happens to be Theo’s dad into the mix.
Because apparently, I hate peace.
My heart finally starts to settle after the lizard-induced panic attack, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins, as Beau carries me toward the front entrance of the house. West and Haze trail close behind us. Beau gently sets me back on my feet, his hands lingering for a little longer than necessary, and we both clear our throats, putting some distance between us. I situate myself, smoothing over the fabric of my dress before taking a step toward the door. I spin around and my gaze flicks between the three shirtless bodies, standing there like a bunch of lost puppies. They share a look with each other, as if they each know a secret I’m not privy to.
My gaze rolls over Haze, and it's as if I'm only now registering that he's actually here and okay…hello, muscles.I realize I should probably look away, because even I know this is weird. I’m also fully aware that he can tell I'm staring, but fucking hell. The man is solid. He stands there all macho and broody like, as if he owns the air we breathe and you know what? He just might. Tattoos wrap around his arms, a chaotic mess of forest trees and mountains, which weren't there when I last saw him. They make him look dangerous, in a good way, of course. I remind myself of the correct etiquette because touching him would be the incorrect thing to do at this moment.
His beard is trimmed nicely across that square jaw I always used to stare at endlessly and goddammit, he’s looking right at me. His brow is raised and there's a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what I'm thinking. Great.
Jovi Jett Stone, for the love of God, look at the fucking ground, or something.
The crush I had on Haze and Beau when we were in school was next level. I mean, I never acted on it. I was way too shy. And when they came out to everyone and officially started dating, I fan-girled so fucking hard for them it's borderline embarrassing. I've always silently rooted for them on the sidelines, hoping they’d stay together because Blue River wasn't always kind to my brothers and Zane when they came out, and as much as they acted like they didn't care what people thought, I knew better. It hurt them that the people we grew up around tried to tear them down. Though joke’s on them because my brothers went on to become world-famous rock stars and to me, that's winning.
When my brain starts working again, I shake my head and clear my throat, ignoring how badly I keep embarrassing myself.
“Where are you staying?” I finally blurt out, my voice raspy from screaming earlier. My eyes dart from Haze to West, then to Beau, searching their faces like a detective, trying to figure out why they’re all here. Together. I know West and Haze are in construction, maybe this is a work holiday? And it makes sense that Beau would join because he wouldn't want to miss out on a vacation with Haze. They look at each other first, their brows furrowing in perfectly synchronized confusion, then back at me.
“Uhh… here,” Haze says slowly. That smirk, still plastered across his face and I choose not to acknowledge it. “At least, that’s what the guy who dropped us off said. Right before he gave us the keys. You’re stuck with us.”
That’s just great. I have to share a house with three men for just under a fortnight. Not just any men. Three men who,at some point, have played the naughtiest fucking roles in my mind.
I know I said I was never going to drink again, but if there isn’t alcohol in this fucking house, I am hurling myself off this roof and into the ocean.
“Looks like we're roomies,” Beau says, but he’s staring directly at West, who doesn't look the least bit pleased about this realization. Neither am I, West, neither am I.
I spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in one of the available bedrooms, avoiding the three ridiculously hot men on the other side of my door for as long as humanly possible. It's true. It should be illegal to be that attractive. Still, I was exhausted. Physically, emotionally and socially. And dare I admit it, I needed some time and space to recalibrate. This vacation was supposed to be my break. A reset. A chance to switch off. And while this might only be day two, so far it has been the total opposite of relaxing. Instead, it somehow turned into one giant emotional obstacle course of unresolved drama and complicated history with the one broody man who can’t even bring himself to look at me. While that might be for good reason, I would be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little.
I know I don’t owe West anything. What happened with him was a total misunderstanding and I’d made that clear when it happened. How Theo responds is out of my control and to be honest, I don't care what he thinks of me. Not anymore. My only regret is not leaving Theo sooner. If I had, none of this would have happened.
I wouldn’t be feeling inappropriate things and thinking inappropriate thoughts about his father.
I just have to work out a way to co-exist with the man until this vacation is over. Something is telling me West is not going to make it easy for me. Not when it’s obvious to anyone with a set of eyes that he despises me, because after all that’s said and done, I’m still his son’s ex-girlfriend. And understandably, his loyalty will always lie with him.
I exhale slowly, staring up at the ceiling as sunlight spills across my bed, painting my room in shades of warm, golden hues. I can’t stop myself from replaying what happened at the show the other night. The way West held and reassured me that everything would be okay. Especially after I’d convinced myself that winning the prize money was off the table because I was convinced he wouldn’t go through with it, given the circumstances. Obviously, I was wrong. He not only gave me the confidence to keep going, to ignore the crowd, our opponents and that god-awful host, but he helped me ground myself and focus. I was able to imagine that it was only him and me in that theatre, and because of that, I was able to complete each of our challenges, which were so beyond risquè it wasn’t funny. Out of character? Fuck yes. Does he know that? No. And it worked to my advantage. I flirted with him in ways I've never done with anyone else, not even Theo, and now we're both fifty thousand dollars richer.
I still can’t believe it.
Knowing we won that amount of money brings on a wave of strange feelings. Relief and disbelief all at the same time. No more panicking over bills or juggling invoices. No more lying awake at night calculating how long I can survive if more than one client cancels at once. My shoulders loosen for the first time in about a year. I’m going to make it. My business.My dream.When everyone was partying in high school, I was at homeplanning and romanticizing what my future would look like. I didn’t want anything fancy. I just wanted to do something that would allow me to shine creatively. A way to express myself. I can’t paint to save my life, so that was out, and despite the past week, I’m a fantastic organizer!
I love taking something from nothing and making it beautiful, all while standing back, watching my clients’ faces light up with glee, knowing I am the reason for their happiness. That is why I do what I do and why I left my old job and started Perfect Match Design. I wanted credit for my own work. I was tired of giving my all to something and feeling nothing but defeated in return. I didn’t want to resent what once made me excited to get up in the morning and I knew that if I stayed where I was at my old job, that’s exactly what would have happened.
Nothing about branching out on my own has been easy. I’ve done it with zero help, despite my brothers and even Shiloh offering it to me. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for them, truly I am. There are plenty of people who’d probably slap me for turning it away. It’s just that… I wanted to have something for me, by me. Just like Shiloh with her tattooing business, and my brothers’ and Zane’s band, Stone Cold. They all started from nothing and against all odds, in their own right, they’re all so successful, no thanks to anyone else. It’s kind of hard to compete with that. Not that it's a competition, or anything, because it isn't. I just wanted that for myself too. Thanks to West and the embarrassing performance we put on, I not only have the confidence to achieve that, but also the financial backing to keep going.
That realization puts a spring in my step as I climb out of the world’s most comfortable bed, slip into a fresh sundress that’s a little on the revealing side, thanks to Shiloh, and brush my hair into something vaguely presentable. I pause in front of the mirror, tilt my head and take one last long look at my outfit.
