“Coming right up.”
I dive under, swimming the length of the pool until I perch my elbows against the glass edge. The ocean gleams before me, reflecting the thousands of stars speckling the night sky. Away from land and artificial light pollution, the sky here is darker, the stars brighter.
I run a hand through my wet hair, raking it back. It’s so fucking peaceful out here. My problems seem insignificant, the emotional turmoil a distant hum at the back of my mind.
Not for long.
The waiter comes over, crouching by the edge to pass me a crystal glass filled with way more than two fingers of whiskey. Five at least. I guess he can tell I need more than a regulation shot to numb my head.
As soon as his footsteps retreat, I hear different ones. Lighter, softer... unmistakable.
“Basically strangers.”
Bullshit.
I know her so well I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know who’s padding toward me barefoot.
“Hey,” Addie says. I hear her sit on the tiles and drop her legs in the water. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
I keep my eyes on the calm waves, but even without looking at her, the smell of peaches and sugar clouds my head.
“I felt like swimming. How was dinner?”
“Lonely,” she sighs, with a twinge of sadness. “Are you mad at me?”
Now I turn, taking her in. Gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous, in a short, light-blue nightdress, her hair braided and thrown over one shoulder, eyes big and clear.
“Why would I be mad?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t come out and you’ve been hiding somewhere all evening... what’s wrong?”
A better question would bewhat’s right?
“I’m not mad. I had to work.”
“This long?”
“One phone call led to another, and another—”
“You’re lying,” she cuts in, her voice small. “I came to check if you enjoyed dinner a half-hour after I sent it. You were gone, but your phone... you left it on the balcony.” She inhales a harsh breath. “You weren’t working. You just didn’t want to spend time with me, and I was alone, listening to my mother’s stupid comments and Grant’s innuendos.”
What am I supposed to say? She’s not wrong but fleshing it out won’t help. I walk to the opposite edge, downing a big gulp of whiskey as I go, then haul myself out.
“Fine, I needed a few hours alone, okay?” I drape a towel over my shoulders, heading back inside. “I’ll behave tomorrow.”
“That’s it?” she scoffs. “You’ve got nothing else to say? JustI’ll behave?”
“I’m tired, Addie. I’m off to bed.”
Orcouch. I haven’t decided yet.
I’m perfectly aware I’m acting like an asshole, but save for stealing Grant’s helicopter, I don’t have much choice. Alienating Addie is a better option than spewing the truth.
Her footsteps splash after me, but she doesn’t start talking until we’re in the privacy of our suite.
“What the hell is your problem, Colt? Why are you acting like this? You say you’re not mad, but I can tell something’s bothering you. Tell me what I did wrong!”
“Nothing,” I emphasize.
