Page 28 of Secrets on Ice

“Marlowe and Evan, you are in this cart as your bungalows are near each other.” Kimberly points out. “Bouch, Nelly, and Sully, you are in this one,” she says as the guys fight for the backseat. I happily take the front beside the guide. “And, Sam, this is yours,” she says.

“Are you my guide?” he asks, but I don’t hear her answer as we pull away.

The golf cart winds along narrow stone pathways, weaving between swaying palm trees and gardens overflowing with tropical flowers. Every now and then the trees open up, giving us a glimpse of the ocean. It doesn't even look real. The water changes color every few feet, turquoise melting into sapphire before disappearing into deep navy out on the horizon.

"Wow," Nelly breathes from behind me.

"I know," Bouch agrees. "Who actually gets to holiday in places like this?"

I don't answer, I'm too busy taking it all in. White sand stretches for miles, broken only by rows of loungers and the occasional hammock swaying gently in the breeze. Our cart pulls up outside a cluster of private bungalows tucked among the palms. They are all connected with glass walkways into a central bungalow, which contains a living room. The three of us are sharing, which I’m fine with because as long as I can get away from these two for a bit, I’ll be fine.

"This is you three." Our guide smiles.

I climb out and whistle quietly, this will be nice.

Bouch is already halfway up the path. "I call the biggest bedroom."

"There are three bedrooms, dickhead," Nelly calls after him.

"So?"

We head inside, the place is ridiculous, with open-plan living, and floor-to-ceiling glass. There’s a kitchen that’s bigger than my apartment in New York. The doors at the back are folded completely open, giving us uninterrupted views straight across the beach, and the ocean is just there. I walk straight out onto the deck. A private plunge pool sits off to one side while a set of timber stairs disappear straight down onto the sand.

"No way ..." I pull my phone out. Cassidy is going to love this as I film what is in front of me. I walk back in, and I can hear the boys talking about something.

“We’ve called tunnels one and two. You’re in tunnel three, that one,” Bouch says, pointing to the one at the furthest end. Perfect, it’s away from them. When these two are together, they are loud. I walk down my glass tunnel toward my own little pod-like bungalow. There is a king-size four-poster bed with white drapes on it. I snap a picture, then I walk further in, and there is a stone bathroom. I take another photo of that and then walk out to my private deck, which looks out to the ocean. This is amazing. I send the photos to Cassidy.

Sully: You'd hate this place.

Three dots appear almost immediately.

Cassidy: You're an asshole.

Another message.

Cassidy: Also ... wow.

I grin.

Sully: Told you I wished you were here.

A photo comes back almost instantly of her lying on the couch with her flipping me off.

Cassidy: Living my best life.

I laugh.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and look out across the water again. For the first time since they arrived at Emmett's apartment, I stop worrying about them.

7

SULLY

Last night was a wild welcome party. Everyone was in fine form, and I may have woken up with a little bit of a headache, but nothing a walk along the beach in the morning can’t cure. I grab a takeaway coffee from my kitchen and walk along the white sandy beach, losing myself in the quiet. The sun is up, the water almost perfectly still as the sky slowly shifts from pink to gold. I pull out my phone and snap a picture.

Sully: Morning.

A minute later my phone buzzes.