That anxiety eased further when he showed up like clockwork the day after passing the baton with his second condition—that I take a five-day vacation he booked for me, Holly, and Damon in this little paradise.
Apparently, Dad has been making future plans of his own, and as soon as I get back to Austin, he’s whisking my mother away to Greece for a well-earned hiatus.
All of this I expected—eventually—in the future.
The future turned out to be now.
What was unexpected was the screeching halt of my thousand-mile-an-hour mind. At the time, my happy tears had been genuine, if only a little forced—the feeling of accomplishment real, but the after…the after has been debilitating.
The future is now.
I’m living it, and it’s done absolutely nothing but drag me into a place I wasn’t at all prepared for after hitting such a sought-after milestone.
For the last two days and nights, I’ve been staring aimlessly at the ocean as a face, and expression, flit to mind—along with the words that should have fit my feelings that day.
“I can’t recall a time in my life where I was so blissfully happy…can you?”
Holly chimes in again as I cover my telling eyes by adjusting my sunglasses.
“Seriously, no complaints, Nat, but—”
“Here it comes,” I grumble around my straw.
“I’m just saying, we’ve been here two days and have gone to bed before midnight. It wouldn’t hurt to mix it up, maybe grab a nice big—”
“Margarita? I agree.” I thrust my frozen concoction her way, the mini-inverted Corona bottle clinking against the rim of the schooner. “Have at it.”
“Whatever,” she says, taking a long drink. “Ohhhh, that’s too damned good.”
“Good enough to shut you up? This isn’t Cabo. Act like a lady and find a gentleman.”
“I’m just asking for a wing woman tonight. We haven’t prowled together,” her beautiful features pinch before she places a hand on my arm for added drama, “girl, since college!”
“If you want a hookup, there are apps for that, but I’ll be damned if you get catfished here, and Damon won’t let it happen, either. Besides, the last time I played wing woman for you, I ended up drunk and deserted in some techie’s living room as you screamed through the walls, faking orgasms. So, that’s a hard pass.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you? Men like that.”
“Not if it’s fake, and you shouldn’t be encouraging men who aren’t getting the job done. It’s an injustice to women. Especially like that, Jesus. You sounded ridiculous.”
“Shut up,” she says, slurping back a good amount of my margarita just as Damon emerges from the ocean. He’s looking absolutely gorgeous in light blue swimming trunks, his mocha skin glittering with cascading water and late-day sun as he saunters through the sand. I drink him in fully because there are beautiful men, and then there’s Damon, in a class of his own.
Completely aware of it, his Spidey-dick senses kick in as heads begin to turn. Looking like a man capable of satisfying every nearby mermaid, he subtly shifts his radar toward a woman in a barely-there bikini. She looks up at him biting her lip, and in return, he flashes her his signature megawatt grin, hooking her instantly. I can practically see the hearts in her eyes as they trail him while he glides by, swagger in full effect.
“What makes you the expert on orgasms anyway?” Holly prods, her back to the spectacle Damon’s making.
Within earshot now, Damon quirks a brow. Devising a quick plan, he moves to shield himself behind the thick curtains of our cabana. I take my margarita back from Holly and sip it to hide my grin.
“I know real, and I know fake. A man who can work it right can also tell the difference, so you should tone down the enthusiasm and make him earn it.” Damon lifts his chin in an urge to keep me going as I make the split decision to bait her. “If you want to stop faking it, why not hook up with Damon?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? God, no.”
Damon scowls at her back as she draws some polish from her bag while frowning at a chipped nail.
“Why not? You two have had a vibe going for years that’s well over the border of flirtatious.” Damon crosses his arms over his sculpted chest, apparently thoroughly enjoying our conversation. Sadly, Holly’s not the only one I’m attempting to lure in.
“Damon vibes with everyone,” she protests. “I’m not special. Besides, it would screw us up.”
I weigh Damon’s reaction as he stands waiting and interpret mild irritation.
“So, you’ve thought about it?”
She glares at me and quickly glances behind her, missing Damon, who’s now concealed behind the curtain.
“I mean recently,” I add, covering myself.
“You didn’t pick up on that in the hundred or more conversations I’ve had with you over the years?”
Just as Damon comes back into view, he stills, lifting his eyes to mine, his expression turning to shock.
That’s right, bestie, it’s time you know the truth.
“I’ve had more real orgasms solo calling his name than with any other man,” she admits.
Whoops, she’s going to fucking kill me.
Seeing this convo going into far more dangerous territory than anticipated, Damon fully perks up, his grin unmistakable as I try to shut it down.
“Tell me about the last guy.”
Damon’s eyes drill into me as I frantically wave him away from the cabana while Holly begins to touch up her polish. He jerks his chin in determination to get answers, eyes challenging as I narrow mine, and he narrows his right back.
Beautiful bastard.
Damon and I continue our wordless argument as Holly cluelessly runs polish along her flawed nail. I lift my sunglasses to telepathically wage war.
Get out, Damon. You’re crossing a line!
I give no fucks.
She’ll never forgive me!
He lifts his chin in prompt. Ask her something else.
This has already gone too far!
A jerk of his chin. Ask her!
“I love him so damned much,” Holly offers as my chest seizes. “He’s the only man other than our dads that I truly respect in this world, and that’s so hard to come by. He’s also the only man I’m brutally honest with—about everything but my feelings for him. Even if he was game, I can’t gamble our lifelong friendship for an easy O.”
“That’s if he’s even capable,” I taunt as his honey eyes flare.
“True. God, what if he can’t carry his weight? What if I risk us for nothing because he’s horrible in bed?”
Damon’s indignant shift in posture and matching glare has me pressing my lips together.
“Nightmare, and all the more reason to stay away. Besides, even if he felt something for me, which he clearly doesn’t…” she pauses thoughtfully. “I mean, I’ve always loved him, and I’ve been in love with him for more years than I haven’t, I think. But lately, I’ve been thinking it’s time to let that dream go.” She pauses again, pushing the top of her polish in the uncorked bottle to look up at me. “Nat, I don’t think he’s capable of being faithful. He hasn’t grown out of the fuckboy phase yet, and we’re getting older.”
I lift a brow as Damon’s expression shifts again. This time it’s anxiety.
“But you’re still in love with him?”
“Six months ago, yeah, now? I’m not sure anymore.”
I decipher his reaction to her words clear as day—panic.
“Can we please change the subject? I don’t want to go down this road if I’m going to be forced to watch him hook up with every bonita se?orita that looks his way for the next three days. I have to block that shit out.” She stands suddenly as Damon leaps back to conceal himself from view. “I’m going to get another margarita.” Holly glances around as my heart explodes into a panicked rhythm.
“Where is that man, anyway? Days are supposed to be ours, together.”
“It’s almost sunset, but I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”
“Exactly, he’s probably already snuck in a nooner. Like how could I ever take him seriously? I’ll get him a drink, just in case. Be right back.”
She saunters off toward the bar as I whisper-yell, “Get your ass in here!”