Me: Safe and sound aboard a superyacht (you should fucking see this place, Nico), cruising the Caribbean for the next week with my fake girlfriend: Audrey, whom I’m saving from marrying a slimy-sounding fucker named Grant.
A soft chuckle behind me alerts me to Addie’s presence and her nosy peeking over my shoulder.
“Spying on me?”
“Sorry... it was an accident.”
“Of course it was.” I settle down on the bed, grab her elbow, and tug her down beside me. “Now watch. Logan won’t believe me. Shawn will kick into detective mode, Nico will take it at face value, and Theo probably won’t reply until tomorrow.”
Shawn: What’s her surname? How long have you known her?
Nico: If the other two-thirds of The Holy Trinity fuck something up while you’re gone, it’s on your head.
Conor: Hey!
Cody: That’s not fair!
Logan: Does this Audrey come inflated, or...?
“I like Logan best so far,” Addie says, grabbing my phone. She flicks to the camera, quickly taking a selfie of us. Her smile beams bright and cheeky as she stares into the lens. With another tap, the picture appears in the chat.
My brothers all start typing at once.
Logan: Considering it’s her hand holding the phone: hey, Audrey. Do me a favor and smack the back of Colt’s head. He’ll know what it’s for.
Andwhackgoes Addie, her chuckle adding insult to injury as the messages come thick and fast. “What was it for?”
“Not letting them know about the trip, and letting you see the chat. It’s sacred ground. I’m revoking your privileges.”
Me: She did, thanks for that, bro.
“Just let me see their replies, and that’s it. I promise,” Addie says, leaning into me harder every time I try to move away.
Fine. A few more messages won’t hurt. She audibly gasps as soon as I show her the screen.
“That’s illegal!”
Shawn: Face recognition comes up with Audrey Weston. Ran a check, she’s pristine. Have fun, don’t drown.
Theo: Let the betting commence.
“That’s quite enough.” I lock the screen. “We should join your family for dinner. I’m starving.”
“Betting? What are they betting on?”
“They bet on anything and everything.”
“This is obviously about me.” She lunges forward to snatch my phone. “I want to know.”
“And I want food.”
“Show me!”
“No. Drop it.” I grab her by the elbow, then swing her over my shoulder and march out, phone tucked in the back pocket of my pants. “Food, Addie.” I poke her butt once we’re out in the corridor. “Left, is it?”
“Left and put me down!” she squeals, every word punctuated with laughter. “Please, I’m not wearing shoes!”
“You’ll survive. No dinging the deck with your heels.”
