“I don’t know how to play craps,” I admit.
Garrett looks astonished. “Sutton Mercer doesn’t know how to play craps? Well, we’ll have to change that. I’ll teach you—I’m a master.”
I snort. “You’re not old enough to be a master. Unless you’ve been sneaking into casinos since you were twelve.”
He smiles. “No, but my dad taught my sister and me how to play when we were little. We had an old craps table my dad bought off eBay—it was fun. We used to play all the time, but not anymore.”
“That does sound like fun,” I say. “Why did you stop?”
A strange look comes over Garrett’s face, and he turns away slightly. “Well, my dad moved, and Louisa isn’t really into that stuff anymore,” he says quietly.
It’s all he needs to say to send me tumbling back to the mystery that is his sister. Garrett’s face goes dark as if he’s stuck in the memory. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” I ask quietly.
His eyes flash. He jerks his knee quickly away. “You really don’t know?”
I recoil. He said it sort of accusingly, almost like I had something to do with it. “Of course not,” I insist.
The steam swirls around us. Garrett presses his lips together. The look on his face is angry now, full of rage. He looks like he could kill someone. But then he shuts his eyes, his expression softening. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Sometimes I just get so . . . angry. I just wish I could have protected her.”
“Stop that.” I squeeze my fingers around his tightly. “You can’t beat yourself up. What happened, whatever it is, it’s not your fault.”
“I know,” Garrett says, his voice low. “But that doesn’t change how much it hurts, seeing Louisa hurting. I just wish I had done something. I wish there was something I could do now.”
I trace my index finger along his inner wrist, feeling his pulse echo against me. “You are doing something. You’re caring for her. You’re making sure she gets better. Do you know how lucky she is to have you?” I think of my own family situation. Would my parents be so distraught if something happened to me? Would Laurel?
“Thanks.” Garrett reaches out and gently tilts my face toward his, his bright blue eyes regarding me seriously. “You seem to always know what to say to make me feel better. How do you do it?”
I shrug. “Oh, just a talent of mine, I guess.” But I like that he thinks I’m kind. I’m so used to everyone assuming I’m a bitch.
Then Garrett leans toward me. He hesitates a moment, and my heart starts pounding hard. He kisses me softly, his lips tasting faintly of lemon water. I shut my eyes and kiss him back, cupping a hand around the back of his neck. As I run my fingers back and forth, it takes a moment for me to realize that I’m searching for the loose curls I always toyed with at the nape of Thayer’s neck. Garrett’s hair is straighter and closer cropped, and my fingers only dance across bare skin.
Don’t think about Thayer right now, a voice in my head chides. Garrett is better. Garrett is here.
Something buzzes on the teak bench along the wall. I open one eye. My cell phone glows blue from the wicker reclining chair next to the tub.
Garrett opens his eyes, too. I pull away from him, feeling conflicted, then hop out of the water. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I scoop my phone from the robe and look at the screen. It’s Thayer’s new area code.
Talk about timing.
Garrett gazes at me. “Do you need to get that?”
“Uh, yeah,” I stammer. “It’s my mom. Just a sec.”
I tap accept, and Thayer’s husky voice filled my ears. “Sutton?”
I glance at Garrett, then step into the hall, which is freezing compared to our steamy room. Goose bumps rise on my skin. Water pools at my feet. “What?” I snap impatiently.
There’s a pause. “You sound angry,” Thayer says.
“Gee, I wonder why?” I retort. “You call me and tell me you’re gone but won’t explain where you are. And then some girl laughs in the background, someone who’s your friend, who can know where you are, and—”
“I told you, Sutton, it’s just not something I can explain right now,” Thayer interrupts. An edge creeps into his voice.
“Whatever,” I whisper.
Suddenly, the door to our private room opens, and Garrett pokes his head out. “I’m going to raise the temperature in here, okay?”
I turn back to Garrett, giving him a big smile. “I love it hot,” I say loudly, not covering the phone.
Garrett gives me a thumbs-up and closes the door again.
“Who was that?” Thayer asks, the suspicion weighty in his voice.
“Oh, just a friend,” I say. “I have to go. See ya!”
And then I hang up, just like he hung up on me. I saunter back to the treatment room, lowering myself into the extra-hot water with a little gasp. Garret reaches out an arm to help me in.