I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. Seven a.m. was criminally early, and I’d put a good amount of money on it that Lani knew it. There was no other reason for her to say such a stupid time. She had to know I wouldn’t normally be up now.
She’d be right, except today was different. I was up because I’d barely slept. It’d been a night of bullshit fits and starts, tossing and turning. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get her out of my damn head.
Why was she so secretive about why she’d left?
Why did she appear to hate me so much that the mere thought of being in the same room as me disgusted her?
Why was she so different, yet so familiar at the same time?
Because that was my biggest issue, more than the other two, oddly enough. In the small hours of the night with nothing but the darkness surrounding me, I’d replayed every conversation we’d had since she returned to Whiskey Key and I saw her outside the baby store. I’d rehashed every exchange and reminded myself of every word she’d said to me.
Sure, she was different. She had more attitude now, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. She was almost fearless in her delivery of every scathing comment she sent my way. But there was something...more. There was something oh-so-familiar that I couldn’t quite place. It lingered in what felt like a black hole of teasing memories, because I couldn’t put my finger on what it was I remembered. What it was hadn’t changed about her.
And it bugged the ever-loving fuck outta me.
One thing was the same—she wasn’t as different as I thought she was.
That, or I was trying to hold onto something she’d let go of eight years ago. What that was I didn’t know. Friendship? Emotions? Her?
I rubbed my hand down my face and looked out down the beach. A lone figure with dark hair and something clasped in her hand strolled easily toward me, and after a couple of minutes, I could clearly see that it was Lani clutching a water bottle.
Her shorts were barely-there, and her tank top hugged her tits tightly before flowing out loosely over her body. She blew upward and swiped her bangs out of her eyes as she approached me.
“Good morning, kitten,” I greeted her with a smirk.
If it was possible, her expression hardened. “I thought I told you to ditch the nickname?”
“I’m not so great at doing as I’m told.”
“No,” she replied, looking me dead in the eye, her face void of all emotion. “You don’t say.”
I grinned.
Her mask cracked as her mouth twitched for the barest second before she looked away. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
“I thought we could run and talk.”
“Why? So you can escape me?” I raised an eyebrow.
She swung her gaze back to me, the slightest hint of amusement glittering back at me. “It is a possibility.”
“Fine,” I said. “But you have to take at least five minutes of me being a prick before you bolt. How else will I incriminate myself?”
That drew a smile out of her, and fuck if it wasn’t the prettiest damn smile I’ve ever seen. “You win. Five minutes of solid assholery and I’m gone. Let’s go.”
She took off just before I was ready, and damn, the girl could run. It took me a good thirty seconds to catch up with her and fall into pace beside her. I didn’t speak and neither did she, not immediately. We ran for a couple of minutes with only the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and birds squawking out as they circled overhead.
“So,” she said, slowing to a jog. “How did the perfect one fall from grace?”
I chuckled. “I was never perfect, you know that.”
“Of course I know that, but now I’m assuming everybody else does as well. I must admit, it’s pretty refreshing to not see everybody fawning over you just because of your last name.”
She could say that again. “I got found out, I guess. I’m not sure what other explanation you want me to give. People stopped seeing me as the perfect heir and started seeing me for what I was—a young guy having fun.”
“You and I have a different idea of fun.”
“Of course we do.” I laughed lightly. “Your idea of fun was always browsing the library shelves for hours upon end until you found the right book.”
“Was? I’m offended. It still is fun, thank you. You should try it sometime. It might keep you out of trouble.” She glanced toward me and the briefest smile flickered across her lips.
“You might be right,” I agreed. “But the likelihood that I’ll find anything I want to read is pretty slim.”
“That’s right—there are those tricky things called words in those books.”
“Ha, ha, ha.” The sand beneath my feet wasn’t as dry as my tone. “Funny.”
“I thought so.” She flashed me a smile—a real one this time. One that lit up her eyes with a genuine spark of amusement. “You know, the library might not be a bad idea.”
Groaning, I slowed my pace until I stopped. The heels of my hands dug into my knees when I bent forward and took a deep breath.
“What’s the matter, Brett? Tired already?”
I lifted my head in enough time to see Lani’s light pink lips curl around the open cap of a water bottle. I swallowed hard. “No. I am feeling a little distressed at the prospect of a library though.”
The bottle cap left her mouth with a light ‘pop.’ Or that could have been the sound of her rolling her eyes. Either was possible.
“Oh, for the love of god.” She snapped the cap down and put her hand on her hip. “I’m not going to make you trawl down aisle after aisle of kinky erotic books or good old bodice rippers.”
“You read kinky, erotic books?”
She clicked her fingers in front of my face. “Focus. With this brain.” Then she tapped the side of my head.
I laughed and straightened up. “Then why else would you take me to the torture house?”
“Okay, if you swear like that again, I’m going to beat you with an encyclopedia.” Her face was so deadly serious with her hard stare and pursed lips that it took all I had to control more laughter. “But no, I have a plan. Clearly we can’t be alone without fighting—”
“Whose fault is that?” I asked with an extra bite of sarcasm.
“Yours, obviously,” she threw back at me. “But in a library, we have to be quiet. We can’t fight there.”
I blew out a long breath and rubbed my face with the bottom of my t-shirt. “I’m not going to library, kitten.”
“You’ll be going to the hospital if you call me that one more time today.”
I let my t-shirt fall out of my hands and gave her a lopsided grin. “So, I can call you it tomorrow?”
She blinked. “No. That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“I tell people things I don’t mean all the time. Like, ‘Oh, yeah, this cake isn’t dry.’ Or ‘Gee, Connie, you make the best coffee.’ Or my personal favorite, ‘Oh, yeah, that was great sex. I totally came.’” She rolled her eyes.
My lopsided grin quickly became a full-blown one that hurt my cheeks.