I woke up an hour ago, completely spent from the previous twenty-four hours. Between the traveling, the excitement, and the time with Fenton, I was wiped.
Sleeping against Fenton was its own version of heaven, his arm clenching around me the entire night. It was oddly intimate and comfortably distant. Physically, we couldn’t be any closer, but emotionally—we still barely know each other. Still, I drifted off and didn’t even wake up when he left at some point between then and now. I searched the suite for a note or an indication of what to expect today but there was nothing. He was just gone, nothing left behind besides his scent all over me.
Inhaling a deep breath, I can still catch notes of his musk and cologne on my skin.
My fingers strum against the mug. I’m not sure whether to wait here for him or to go on about my day until I hear something. If I had some sort of timeline, that would help. But I don’t.
I’m rolling around the idea of heading back down to the pool or to the little shops in the hotel when my phone buzzes on the table. Grinning, I lean forward and pick it up from the exact spot I occupied hours before.
“Hello?”
“Well, your father heard from Senator Hyland this morning,” my mother says immediately.
I jolt up from the sofa and begin to pace the floor. “And?”
“He’s trying to start a dialogue with the Nekuti group. The US won’t negotiate with them because it’s against the law, but Hyland is trying to get them to talk.”
“That’s great!”
“I think so. Hopefully we can get them to demand a ransom. We’ve been talking to some people to be able to come up with the money if that happens. It couldn’t come from a US bank, but apparently there are ways to get around that.”
”We just need something to go on,” I sigh.
“I have a really good feeling about Hyland on our side. He thinks Mandla has more information than they’re letting on and has really been pressuring them to turn it over. He’s exactly what we’ve been needing, someone on our side.”
“It’s about time. We’ve gone this long with no one giving a shit. Someone needs to do something besides you and Dad.”
“I agree, honey. But we’re finally on the right path, I think. Besides, Brady is fine. I feel it. When you’re a mother, you can sense when things aren’t right. I just . . . I never should’ve let him go.” Her voice breaks and it breaks me.
“No, Mom. You can’t do that. We’ve been over this a million times. He’s a grown man. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
“I know. And I know he knew the risks and did it anyway.” I hear her try to hide her sniffle from me. “He’s always been such a good boy. I just can’t imagine what he’s going through.”
We both get lost in our own thoughts for a beat. I watch the steam shoot from my cup of coffee—it rises up in a single line and disappears slowly into the surrounding air. It reminds me of life—we are here one second and the next, we could be evaporated into a memory.
“I need to go. I have a few things to do today. Call me if you need anything, sweetheart.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, Brynne.”
I pad into the master bedroom and find an emerald green bikini in my suitcase. I slip out of my robe and gown and into the swimsuit.
I need some sunshine and fresh air.
A grin slips across my lips as I remember Fenton’s warning. I jostle through the suitcase until I find a white swimsuit coverup.
And I better take this too.
“I don’t know, Presley,” I say into the phone, searching for an empty chaise. “There really are no words to explain it. It was just . . . it was the best thing I’ve ever had done to me.”
“That’s it! I’m going to the grocery store today and dropping my phone into the avocados. Done.”
Giggling, I spot an open lounge a few feet from the pool, beneath a looming palm tree. It has lots of shade and even more privacy. There are no chairs in the immediate vicinity and I’m fairly confident I can kick back and not be splashed or annoyed by the inebriated twenty-somethings.
“Good luck with that,” I offer. “Because even if someone does find it, what are the odds he looks like Fenton?”
“And what are the odds he looks like Fenton and he licks my pussy until I come in his mouth?”
“My Lord, Pres!” I place my bag next to the chair and strip off my coverup. I lean back on the chaise and get situated. “Can you be any more descriptive?”
“I could. Wanna hear?”
“No.”
She laughs. “So, was he better than, less than, or equal to that guy you banged on the boat? What was that guy’s name?”
“The doctor?”
“Yeah.”
“Connor,” I giggle, thinking back to the cutie I met while he was on vacation. “Connor was great, as you know.”
“Yes. I’m still pissed you didn’t give me his number.”
“He went back to Arizona! You don’t date well when they live in Santa Monica, Pres, let alone Scottsdale.”