“Wait a minute…” She coughs, patting her mouth with the back of her hand. “You were spying on Brody and Brooks?”
My brows shoot up. “Why are you saying their names like you know them?”
“Because I do know them.”
What is she talking about?I can feel my head shaking, but nothing comes out. Jesus Christ, they’re getting closer.
Moon’s name is called out, and it makes me wince.
“Why are you freaking out?” she asks, staring at me, confused. “What’s the big deal?”
“Have you forgotten?” I whisper sharply, trying to gather my things. “Wells knows I’m a perv, and now he’s walking up withthe objects of my perversion.” I drop my room key, picking it up again. “I have to go. I’m leaving.”
I don’t give her time to answer because they’re now about twenty feet away. So I need to scurry, to jet, to get the hell out of Dodge. Because I cannot look these men in their eyes. I can’t do it.
“Margot, wait—” she rushes out, but I’m already on my feet, tying my sarong around my waist until she adds, “Shit. Ice packs!”
I swing back around, my eyes landing on the two mostly melted ice packs still sitting on the lounge chair where my ass was.
Without hesitation, we both scramble to grab them. Hers is tossed into a hedge, but mine stays in my hand as my face swings around, looking for a spot.
“Moon” is yelled again, and for a brief moment, I consider hiding under my lounger.
“Hey, guys,” she calls out, waving, and thankfully taking any attention away from me.
Still, dropping to the ground would be too obvious, so I do the next best thing since she’s bought me about two seconds. But it’s one more than I need because I toss my ass bag into some random woman’s purse.
Dear stranger, I am sorry for your things. But sacrifices needed to be made.
“Bye,” I hiss, not bothering to look up or at my sister.
I begin to make my getaway, but it’s the worst possible decision I could make because the long tie dangling down frommy silk sarong catches the arm of the lounge chair. It only takes two steps before that fabric tears straight off my body, leaving my blushed derrière exposed.
Oh god.Noooooo.
My heart is in my throat, my breath frozen still before I squeal, and my hands shoot behind me to cover my bright red cheeks.
This could not get any worse.
But it does, because two awful things happen at the same time.
I hear, “That’s Margot” and “Damn, girl, what are you into?”
What am I into? What am I into? Apparently humiliation.
My sister laughs, but I’m stuck in place, my back to them, my eyes squeezed closed as the same thought plays on repeat:Please let this be a fever dream.
“Margot,” Moon whispers, coaxing me to turn around, but my name’s drowned out by a familiar chuckle.
“We have to stop meeting this way,” Wells teases.
He means me showing my ass.
Fuck.
A small whine leaves me before I relax my face and blow out a deep breath, and slowly turn around to face the music.
Music is a generous term. It’s really the same song.
