He just gazes at me, his eyelids getting heavier.
“I’m sorry. I’ve gone on and on here.”
“I’m interested. I want to hear it.”
“I want to forget about it.”
He pulls me into his chest, and the warmth of his body and the touch of his hand against my back loosen my burden, even if it’s temporary.
“I’m just gonna rest my eyes a minute,” he says. “When they all leave, I’ll move to the couch, okay?” he says, his words a little slurry.
“Mmm-hmm,” I utter and close my eyes, allowing myself to give in to the luxury of him.
12
Kylie
“Kylie.” My name is a low grumble in a dreamy space.
“Hmm,” I manage to get out in my fuzzy state.
A hand squeezes my shoulder. “Kylie, it’s Monday. It’s almost nine.”
A jolt shocks me fully awake, and I’m off Brett’s chest, where apparently I’ve been all night long. Memories of dancing, tequila shots, and cold meat flood into my brain.
“Crap,” I say, glancing around. “I’m supposed to be at the lagoon pool at nine.”
“I’ll drop you over there.”
I pull myself off the bed and glance around like I don’t know how to get ready, and Brett runs his fingers through his hair. “You take the bathroom first.”
He tries to open the door, but it’s locked. He knocks. “Val? You in there?”
“Just a minute,” Val calls. Brett steps back from the door, waving his hand in front of his nose. “It may be more than a minute.” He steps out into the hallway and comes back in shaking his head. “A couple of Val’s caddy friends are out there.”
“Can you change in Val’s room?” I ask.
He gives me a look. “Someone’s in there.”
I grin at him. “You people throw some serious parties.”
Brett shrugs, giving me a proud smirk.
“Here,” I say, glancing around. “Let’s just both change in here. We’ve gotta hurry.”
“All right,” he says, pulling open a drawer as I scooch out of his way.
I grab the one-piece bathing suit Lauren issued me at check-in on Friday and the pair of resort-logo shorts. I check to make sure he’s not looking at me. Like he’s got eyes in the back of his head, he says, “I’m not looking.”
“I know,” I say and turn around, pulling my shorts off. I wrestle the bathing suit up my legs and then turn toward him just in time for a full view of that spectacular ass of his. It strikes me that I’ve seen him naked twice now but have yet to even kiss him. We’re definitely working out of order here.
As he pulls a pair of boxer briefs up over it, I let out a sort of gasp-snort-laugh thing, which gets his attention. He grins at me. “Are you looking at me?”
“No!” I shout, with a massive grin of my own. “I was just making sure you weren’t looking at me.”
“I said I wasn’t gonna look.”
“I didn’t know if I believed you.”
“I slept in this bed with you last night without laying a finger on you. Does that not count for something?”
“Just hush so I can get dressed,” I say, turning toward the wall and pulling my shirt off and the bathing suit up. When I turn around, he’s sitting on the bed, putting on socks. “Thank you, for not looking,” I say, tugging up my shorts.
“How do you know I didn’t?” he asks and then flashes me that smile that makes me want to spend the day in this bed with him.
“I’m done!” shouts Val from the bathroom.
Brett stands. “I’m going in,” he says like a soldier getting ready to do battle. “Goddamn,” he says as he shuts the door behind him, letting some of the stench into this room. I feel his pain.
Brett pulls his truck up to the gate of the lagoon pool. “Do you have the code for the gate?”
“Oh, crap. Somewhere.” I pull out my phone.
“It’s 8763,” he says.
I let my shoulders sag. “Thank you.”
He shrugs like it was nothing.
“No, I mean for letting me stay with you and for dinner and for fun and for listening and for helping me feel like myself for the first time in a really long time.”
He shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to say, color pouring into his cheeks.
“Sorry,” I say, my own cheeks heating. “Ugh. Okay. Bye,” I say, and then in some sort of effort to maximize this moment or maybe to sabotage myself, I reach over to kiss him on the cheek. But at the last second, I decide to make it his lips, and he sort of turns weird, too, and I find myself kissing his nostrils.
“God,” I say under my breath as I pull away and get out of the car as quickly as I can.
The lagoon pool during the light of day at work is quite the different scenario than it was Saturday night with Brett. Everyone was spot on about the parents. They are in hog heaven in this place. And they drink…boy, do they drink. I have worked a few of the stations now, and one of them is the tiki bar, where I made more mango daiquiris in an hour than I ever knew could be consumed.
I tried to put my housing situation out of my mind this past weekend, but today, the idea looms that there may not be a place for me to live. I can’t do anything about it at the moment, so I spend my time thinking about my mis-kiss this morning. My stomach churns at my idiocy.
One thing about this job is that I don’t have my phone on me. My shorts have no pockets, and I learned that’s for a reason. They want us focused on serving guests, not on our phones. It’s fine…it’s just going to take some detoxing.
I retrieve my purse from my dedicated locker and see that I’ve got a few texts. One is from Samantha, wishing me a great
