Aloha, page 13
Yeah. It was exactly as terrible as it sounded. No, peanut butter hadn’t worked to get it out. Baby oil, either. It had been as if I’d been chewing concrete when I’d fallen asleep that night.
No matter how much your wife loves you, if at any point she wakes up with gum in her hair—gum that fell out of your mouth in the middle of the night because you have a slight obsession—there is going to be hell to pay.
Luckily, my wife loves me a fuck of a lot, so I got off with a warning. I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t going to be so gentle this time.
Given that I had a healthy respect for my life, I fought to suppress my smile. “I can’t help it. It’s like having a cigarette after sex. It relaxes me.”
She glared, all pissed off and sexy. “Right, and I wouldn’t be okay with you burning the house down with a cigarette, either. Chew your gum. And then spit. It. Out.”
“What if it still has flavor?”
“Ramsey,” she warned.
“Isn’t that wasteful?”
“Ramsey!”
Unable to contain it any longer, I barked a laugh. “Okay, okay. No more gum at night.” I didn’t spit it out though. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips over hers. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me today. We’re free, remember?”
She instantly melted, her whole body sagging against me. “Let’s go somewhere. Right now. Let’s just get in the car and go.”
“Where to?”
She nipped at my bottom lip and ever-so-subtly rolled her hips. “I don’t care. Take me anywhere, Ramsey.”
God, did I want that. It was everything we’d dreamed of when we were younger. And everything we’d lost the day I’d been convicted of killing the boy who had assaulted her.
After three years of being tied to an invisible ninety-mile chain, I thought getting the hell out of town would have been the perfect way to kick off the end to this godforsaken chapter of our lives. But it wasn’t exactly like I’d been miserable the last few years. There was something to be said for the comfort and conveniences of home. Like the fact that Thea slept naked, ready for me any time I wanted to roll over and slide into her from behind. We had a lot of years to make up for. At least that what she’d told me each night as she rolled over and climbed on top of me.
And luckily for us both, in our bed, I slept naked too.
So, currently, while relief and freedom ricocheted inside my chest, it was my wife naked and straddling my lap, my cock thickening against her slick core, that demanded my focus.
“If we leave in an hour, we could be at the beach in time to see the sunrise.”
The tips of her nipples grazed my chest as she replied, “It won’t take me an hour to get dressed.”
All at once, I turned, flipping her to her back. She let out a squeak and then a loud laugh that may as well have been the soundtrack of my childhood.
“You won’t be spending that hour getting dressed, Sparrow.” I kissed her hard. Our tongues tangled in a fluid rhythm, and her legs fell open in a silent invitation. I did not delay in settling between them.
Yeah. Home was a fucking beautiful place.
She purred as I kissed my way up her neck. “Why are we waiting an hour to leave? No offense to your sexual prowess or anything, but I’m pretty sure round two is not going to take that long.”
My head popped up and I shot her a glare that held no heat due to the fact that I was smiling like a fool. “Wow. You are hell on a man’s ego. You know that?”
“What?” She feigned innocence. “I said no offense.”
She was busting my balls. It was her favorite pastime, and because it was Thea, it had quickly become my favorite pastime too.
“Well, offense taken. My sexual prowess is thoroughly insulted.”
Her breasts pillowed between us as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I just meant that if we had sex in the shower and left in fifteen minutes, we could stop and pick up a bottle of champagne on the way.” She shot me a sly grin. “As a free man, you can finally drink alcohol. What do you say we get a little tipsy and have round three on the beach?”
“I’d say that my first legal drink in my entire life is sure as shit not going to be champagne, and how about you don’t get me arrested for indecent exposure less than twelve hours after I finally became a free man.”
She giggled. “Fair enough. But I still don’t think we need an hour. We could stop and get beer or something.”
“Fuck the beer. And trust me, we are going to need all sixty minutes of that hour.” Holding her gaze, I inched down her body, peppering kisses across her breasts. Her nipples peaked and I all too willingly answered their pleas for my attention.
She arched off the bed as I licked and sucked, alternating between gentle flicks of my tongue and rough nips with my teeth.
“Ramsey,” she breathed as I continued my descent down her torso, worshipping every curve on my way. “Please,” she whispered, thrusting her hand into the top of my hair, urging my mouth between her thighs.
But just like always, no matter how much it frustrated her, I stopped and rose to my knees.
“No,” she hissed. “Not now. Please, Ramsey.”
Oh yeah, she hated this part. Eventually, she’d love it. Though even I could admit that working her up only to stop and stare was cruel. But I needed those seconds to drink her in, to remind myself that she was really there.
When I’d decided to let her go so she could have a better life without the confines of my choices imprisoning her too, I’d never in my wildest dreams thought I’d get a second chance. When you tell yourself something for long enough, it eventually becomes a cold, hard fact.
Most days, it was still hard to believe that what I’d accepted as fact was actually fiction. But seeing her bare before me, her cheeks pink, and her long, brown hair splayed across the pillows while my name sat on the tip of her tongue as she begged to come against my mouth, I allowed my mind to differentiate between the two.
I licked my thumb and lazily trailed it up her slit, circling at her clit before sliding back down. “I thought about you,” I confessed while continuing to stroke her.
“Ramsey,” she moaned. “Don’t.”
I couldn’t stop myself. “When I was behind bars, I used to think about this a lot. Being free. Being with you. Being us again.”
Circling her hips off the mattress, she pleaded for more. “Stop talking.”
“I didn’t want to. I fought like hell, convincing myself that it was wrong. But I thought about you just like this. So wet and beautiful. So eager and ready. It nearly killed me every time the images floated through my mind because I was never the man between your legs.”
Her body stiffened, and her sad gaze locked with mine. “There never was anyone else. It was always you.”
“I know. But these were my nightmares, Thea. I didn’t have to be asleep for them ruin me.”
Suddenly, she tried to sit up. My sparrow was always there, ready to take care of me when the world became too much. Warmth filled my chest, desire to let her wrap me in her arms warring with the need to watch my wife come on my hand before I fucked her long and hard.
Need won out, and without warning, I sank two fingers deep in her heat.
“Oh God!” she cried, falling back against the pillow.
Her mouth open, ecstasy flowing from the perfect O shape of her lips, she arched off the bed, screwing her eyes shut as I began a frenzied rhythm of thrusts and circles.
My fingers became almost as urgent as my words. “I’m here now, Thea. It’s not a nightmare. It’s not a dream. I’m here, and I swear to God, for the rest of my life, it’s me and you. Forever.”
“Forever,” she panted, reaching for my hand. She wanted to touch me, and fuck, I wanted that too.
Her nails bit into my bicep as I continued to work her. Between the sounds of her moans and the hypnotic view of her breasts swaying, I could barely breathe. Dropping my head to kiss her collarbone, I allowed my gaze to linger on her flat stomach.
Thea and I had talked about a family a million times. The current timing was shit, what with our plans to tour the world and all. But as images of her stomach swollen, my baby growing inside her, flashed in my head, settling down when we were done playing nomads sounded more exciting than ever.
“I want a baby,” I whispered, resting my palm just above her belly button.
Her body stilled, and her eyes suddenly popped open. “Ramsey…I…”
“Not right now, crazy.” The side of my mouth hiked up. “But one day.”
She smiled back at me, love burning her cheeks. “As many as you want.”
I had no idea what that number looked like. I had zero experience with kids besides my little sister, so the “couple” we’d discussed might as well have been a dozen. It was all the same to me. I just wanted a family.
No. Strike that. I just wanted a family with her.
“I love you,” I whispered.
The final syllable hadn’t cleared my lips before she replied, “I love you too, but I really want to see that sunset on the beach.”
I laughed. Yep. That was my wife. It was a wonder I got her to slow down every night long enough to sleep. But if she wanted to be at the beach, a man could find it in his heart to hurry.
She gasped as I guided my length to her entrance.
And then she cried out as I drove inside.
She held me tight as I worked her hard and fast, a sheen of sweat covering us both by the time she fell over the edge of ecstasy.
And then, in true Thea Stewart fashion, she flipped me, her long legs straddling my hips, her slick heat surrounding my cock. As she rocked and circled, riding me with her hands resting on my chest, her eyes locked on mine and time officially started again.
But in a way, time became irrelevant.
Thea was still the girl I’d been in love with before I’d known what the word truly meant.
I was still the kid who would do whatever it took to give her the life we’d never had growing up.
The only real difference was that midnight hadn’t only freed me.
It had freed us both.
As my release tore through me, leveling me in its wake, the only words that mattered slipped from my lips.
A gasping promise that I would follow her to the ends of the Earth.
First stop: the sunrise on the beach. And yeah, I’d probably even agree to the champagne too.
Next stop: “Forever, Thea. Forever.”
Thank you for reading. To continue in this world, try Release.
Changing Tides
A Sandcastle Cove Short Story
Amber Kelly
Chapter 1
Why the hell not?
That’s the question I ask myself as I open the Tiffany-blue suitcase on my bed and begin to cut the tags off of the pile of new vacation clothes I purchased last week.
I toss them inside, along with my favorite white bikini and pineapple-print cover-up.
Conrad and I planned this vacation for over a year. Painstakingly searching websites for the best accommodations, food, and excursions. I saved every penny earned from my part-time job of waiting tables at a bistro near the University of Georgia campus so we could afford to splurge on anything we wanted to do or buy while in Honolulu on the island of Oahu.
Looking forward to a week of baking in the Hawaiian sun and drinking all the tropical cocktails with my favorite guy was the only thing that kept me going through the all-night study sessions, finals and months of long seven-day workweeks.
Once everything is packed, I snatch the pair of airline tickets from the nightstand and sit on the end of the bed.
Two first-class round-trip tickets for Avie Carrigan and Conrad Sullivan.
Nonrefundable.
I swipe at the warm tear trickling down my cheek.
Pull it together, Avie.
I tuck the ticket with my name on it inside of my purse and tear the one with his name into tiny pieces.
Asshole.
Conrad and I had been dating for almost three years, and stupid me thought maybe he was planning to hide a ring away in his luggage to surprise me on this trip.
It was always the plan. Once I finished school, we would move to the city and begin our life together.
Instead, he took me to dinner last night and professed how much he loved me at the same time he was breaking up with me.
Dumped. The night before the trip of a lifetime.
He said we needed a breather.
I asked, “What the hell does that even mean?”
He explained that his dad’s best friend had offered him a job at his architectural firm in New York.
A job that starts next week.
He accepted the position, and he is moving this weekend.
When I asked why the news meant that we needed a breather, he said he wanted to concentrate on work and that a long-distance relationship would be too much of an emotional drain.
“Look, the job is a summer internship. I need to be focused in order to prove myself. After that, I’ll know if it’s what I want to do and where I want to be. Then, we can revisit our situation and see if I want you to move to New York or if I should move back here to Atlanta.”
What he wants to do and where he wants to be?
I stood up as calmly as I could muster, told him he could go fuck himself, picked up the glass of red wine I had been drinking, and dumped it in his lap before I made my way out of the restaurant.
When I made it home, all of his things were gone from the apartment we shared. His clothing, toiletries, laptop, and even the expensive gaming system I’d bought him for his birthday last month.
The jerk had packed up his things while I was on campus. Before bothering to tell me he was moving out.
I will not cry again.
My phone chimes from the dresser, and I stand to see the message that my Uber driver has arrived.
I sling my purse over my shoulder and grab my suitcase.
As I pass the full-length pedestal mirror in the corner of the room, I admire my tanned shoulders peeking out of the top of the gorgeous palm-print maxi dress. I place a wide-brimmed straw hat on my head and pull on my new aviator sunglasses before slipping into the white sandals by the door.
Glancing back at the apartment one more time before shutting and locking the door, I head to the elevator.
The driver takes my suitcase and loads it into the back of the car, and I open the door to the back seat, where I find my best friend, Amiya, waiting.
“Hey, chica. I’m ready to get this tropical party started,” she cries as she scoots to the left to make room for me.
Thank God she was able to get off work at the last minute to join me. The romantic getaway I planned will now be the girls’ trip of a lifetime. And the best part is that it’s being partially funded by the douche formerly known as the love of my life.
“I’ve been looking at the resort’s website,” She taps her phone screen and begins to read, “Welcome to your own private paradise. Our property prides itself on being an exclusive getaway experience, curated just for you. Where you can disconnect from the stress and worries of life, connect to a dream landscape, and enjoy exceptional service with your own personal butler. At The Stanhope Grand Resort, we are all ohana.”
She looks up from the device and at me. “That means family.”
“I know.”
“The pictures are insane. I can’t believe we get to stay there,” she squeals.
Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself getting excited about the trip.
The driver drops us off at the airport, and we make our way to the Delta counter to see if I can get the ticket Amiya purchased upgraded.
“I’m totally okay in coach. Just send me back a free cocktail or two,” she says.
“It can’t hurt to ask if they can move you beside me. It’s not like anyone else will be sitting there.”
“But I checked last night, and the cost difference is astronomical,” she informs.
I reach into my bag and pull out the American Express card that has my name on it.
“I don’t want you to pay for it either.”
I grin. “I’m not. This is Conrad’s account. He gave me a card with my name on it to his account a while ago so I could pick up his dry cleaning, grab takeout, and fill his car up with gas on the occasions he was working late. I think the least he can do since he left me with an apartment that still has five months left on the lease is pay for your upgrade.
“Oh, it absolutely is the least he can do,” she agrees.
After I explain the situation to the lady at the ticket counter she changes Amiya’s seat, and we quickly make our way through security.
We grab a bite to eat and a couple of beers at Phillips Seafood while we wait for boarding.
Amiya flirts shamelessly with our barely legal server as I incessantly check my phone.
Once our glasses hit the table, Amiya reaches across the table and snatches my phone from my fingertips.
“Hey!” I quip.
“Hey nothing. You’re not going to keep staring at this thing, looking for a text from him or cyberstalking his social media accounts while we’re in Hawaii. In less than twelve hours, we’re going to be draped in leis and frolicking in paradise. Conrad fucking Sullivan is not going to ruin this trip any further. Got it?”
I nod.
“Let me hear you say it,” she insists.
“Conrad fucking Sullivan is not going to ruin this trip,” I affirm.
She opens the top of her bag and drops my phone inside. “You’ll get that back when we return home.”
“Fine,” I huff.
She smiles, picks up her glass, and leans in. “There will be an incredible amount of beautiful men there, and we’re going to find one to occupy your time. You’ll forget all about what’s his name before we return. Here’s to a wicked holiday affair.”
I raise my glass and clink it against hers. “Cheers.”
Chapter 2
We land at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport and disembark. After claiming our baggage, we are greeted by a couple from the car service Conrad hired, receiving one of the warmest welcomes I’ve ever encountered. The two are waiting with a sign that reads Mr. Sullivan and Miss Carrigan.
No matter how much your wife loves you, if at any point she wakes up with gum in her hair—gum that fell out of your mouth in the middle of the night because you have a slight obsession—there is going to be hell to pay.
Luckily, my wife loves me a fuck of a lot, so I got off with a warning. I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t going to be so gentle this time.
Given that I had a healthy respect for my life, I fought to suppress my smile. “I can’t help it. It’s like having a cigarette after sex. It relaxes me.”
She glared, all pissed off and sexy. “Right, and I wouldn’t be okay with you burning the house down with a cigarette, either. Chew your gum. And then spit. It. Out.”
“What if it still has flavor?”
“Ramsey,” she warned.
“Isn’t that wasteful?”
“Ramsey!”
Unable to contain it any longer, I barked a laugh. “Okay, okay. No more gum at night.” I didn’t spit it out though. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips over hers. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me today. We’re free, remember?”
She instantly melted, her whole body sagging against me. “Let’s go somewhere. Right now. Let’s just get in the car and go.”
“Where to?”
She nipped at my bottom lip and ever-so-subtly rolled her hips. “I don’t care. Take me anywhere, Ramsey.”
God, did I want that. It was everything we’d dreamed of when we were younger. And everything we’d lost the day I’d been convicted of killing the boy who had assaulted her.
After three years of being tied to an invisible ninety-mile chain, I thought getting the hell out of town would have been the perfect way to kick off the end to this godforsaken chapter of our lives. But it wasn’t exactly like I’d been miserable the last few years. There was something to be said for the comfort and conveniences of home. Like the fact that Thea slept naked, ready for me any time I wanted to roll over and slide into her from behind. We had a lot of years to make up for. At least that what she’d told me each night as she rolled over and climbed on top of me.
And luckily for us both, in our bed, I slept naked too.
So, currently, while relief and freedom ricocheted inside my chest, it was my wife naked and straddling my lap, my cock thickening against her slick core, that demanded my focus.
“If we leave in an hour, we could be at the beach in time to see the sunrise.”
The tips of her nipples grazed my chest as she replied, “It won’t take me an hour to get dressed.”
All at once, I turned, flipping her to her back. She let out a squeak and then a loud laugh that may as well have been the soundtrack of my childhood.
“You won’t be spending that hour getting dressed, Sparrow.” I kissed her hard. Our tongues tangled in a fluid rhythm, and her legs fell open in a silent invitation. I did not delay in settling between them.
Yeah. Home was a fucking beautiful place.
She purred as I kissed my way up her neck. “Why are we waiting an hour to leave? No offense to your sexual prowess or anything, but I’m pretty sure round two is not going to take that long.”
My head popped up and I shot her a glare that held no heat due to the fact that I was smiling like a fool. “Wow. You are hell on a man’s ego. You know that?”
“What?” She feigned innocence. “I said no offense.”
She was busting my balls. It was her favorite pastime, and because it was Thea, it had quickly become my favorite pastime too.
“Well, offense taken. My sexual prowess is thoroughly insulted.”
Her breasts pillowed between us as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I just meant that if we had sex in the shower and left in fifteen minutes, we could stop and pick up a bottle of champagne on the way.” She shot me a sly grin. “As a free man, you can finally drink alcohol. What do you say we get a little tipsy and have round three on the beach?”
“I’d say that my first legal drink in my entire life is sure as shit not going to be champagne, and how about you don’t get me arrested for indecent exposure less than twelve hours after I finally became a free man.”
She giggled. “Fair enough. But I still don’t think we need an hour. We could stop and get beer or something.”
“Fuck the beer. And trust me, we are going to need all sixty minutes of that hour.” Holding her gaze, I inched down her body, peppering kisses across her breasts. Her nipples peaked and I all too willingly answered their pleas for my attention.
She arched off the bed as I licked and sucked, alternating between gentle flicks of my tongue and rough nips with my teeth.
“Ramsey,” she breathed as I continued my descent down her torso, worshipping every curve on my way. “Please,” she whispered, thrusting her hand into the top of my hair, urging my mouth between her thighs.
But just like always, no matter how much it frustrated her, I stopped and rose to my knees.
“No,” she hissed. “Not now. Please, Ramsey.”
Oh yeah, she hated this part. Eventually, she’d love it. Though even I could admit that working her up only to stop and stare was cruel. But I needed those seconds to drink her in, to remind myself that she was really there.
When I’d decided to let her go so she could have a better life without the confines of my choices imprisoning her too, I’d never in my wildest dreams thought I’d get a second chance. When you tell yourself something for long enough, it eventually becomes a cold, hard fact.
Most days, it was still hard to believe that what I’d accepted as fact was actually fiction. But seeing her bare before me, her cheeks pink, and her long, brown hair splayed across the pillows while my name sat on the tip of her tongue as she begged to come against my mouth, I allowed my mind to differentiate between the two.
I licked my thumb and lazily trailed it up her slit, circling at her clit before sliding back down. “I thought about you,” I confessed while continuing to stroke her.
“Ramsey,” she moaned. “Don’t.”
I couldn’t stop myself. “When I was behind bars, I used to think about this a lot. Being free. Being with you. Being us again.”
Circling her hips off the mattress, she pleaded for more. “Stop talking.”
“I didn’t want to. I fought like hell, convincing myself that it was wrong. But I thought about you just like this. So wet and beautiful. So eager and ready. It nearly killed me every time the images floated through my mind because I was never the man between your legs.”
Her body stiffened, and her sad gaze locked with mine. “There never was anyone else. It was always you.”
“I know. But these were my nightmares, Thea. I didn’t have to be asleep for them ruin me.”
Suddenly, she tried to sit up. My sparrow was always there, ready to take care of me when the world became too much. Warmth filled my chest, desire to let her wrap me in her arms warring with the need to watch my wife come on my hand before I fucked her long and hard.
Need won out, and without warning, I sank two fingers deep in her heat.
“Oh God!” she cried, falling back against the pillow.
Her mouth open, ecstasy flowing from the perfect O shape of her lips, she arched off the bed, screwing her eyes shut as I began a frenzied rhythm of thrusts and circles.
My fingers became almost as urgent as my words. “I’m here now, Thea. It’s not a nightmare. It’s not a dream. I’m here, and I swear to God, for the rest of my life, it’s me and you. Forever.”
“Forever,” she panted, reaching for my hand. She wanted to touch me, and fuck, I wanted that too.
Her nails bit into my bicep as I continued to work her. Between the sounds of her moans and the hypnotic view of her breasts swaying, I could barely breathe. Dropping my head to kiss her collarbone, I allowed my gaze to linger on her flat stomach.
Thea and I had talked about a family a million times. The current timing was shit, what with our plans to tour the world and all. But as images of her stomach swollen, my baby growing inside her, flashed in my head, settling down when we were done playing nomads sounded more exciting than ever.
“I want a baby,” I whispered, resting my palm just above her belly button.
Her body stilled, and her eyes suddenly popped open. “Ramsey…I…”
“Not right now, crazy.” The side of my mouth hiked up. “But one day.”
She smiled back at me, love burning her cheeks. “As many as you want.”
I had no idea what that number looked like. I had zero experience with kids besides my little sister, so the “couple” we’d discussed might as well have been a dozen. It was all the same to me. I just wanted a family.
No. Strike that. I just wanted a family with her.
“I love you,” I whispered.
The final syllable hadn’t cleared my lips before she replied, “I love you too, but I really want to see that sunset on the beach.”
I laughed. Yep. That was my wife. It was a wonder I got her to slow down every night long enough to sleep. But if she wanted to be at the beach, a man could find it in his heart to hurry.
She gasped as I guided my length to her entrance.
And then she cried out as I drove inside.
She held me tight as I worked her hard and fast, a sheen of sweat covering us both by the time she fell over the edge of ecstasy.
And then, in true Thea Stewart fashion, she flipped me, her long legs straddling my hips, her slick heat surrounding my cock. As she rocked and circled, riding me with her hands resting on my chest, her eyes locked on mine and time officially started again.
But in a way, time became irrelevant.
Thea was still the girl I’d been in love with before I’d known what the word truly meant.
I was still the kid who would do whatever it took to give her the life we’d never had growing up.
The only real difference was that midnight hadn’t only freed me.
It had freed us both.
As my release tore through me, leveling me in its wake, the only words that mattered slipped from my lips.
A gasping promise that I would follow her to the ends of the Earth.
First stop: the sunrise on the beach. And yeah, I’d probably even agree to the champagne too.
Next stop: “Forever, Thea. Forever.”
Thank you for reading. To continue in this world, try Release.
Changing Tides
A Sandcastle Cove Short Story
Amber Kelly
Chapter 1
Why the hell not?
That’s the question I ask myself as I open the Tiffany-blue suitcase on my bed and begin to cut the tags off of the pile of new vacation clothes I purchased last week.
I toss them inside, along with my favorite white bikini and pineapple-print cover-up.
Conrad and I planned this vacation for over a year. Painstakingly searching websites for the best accommodations, food, and excursions. I saved every penny earned from my part-time job of waiting tables at a bistro near the University of Georgia campus so we could afford to splurge on anything we wanted to do or buy while in Honolulu on the island of Oahu.
Looking forward to a week of baking in the Hawaiian sun and drinking all the tropical cocktails with my favorite guy was the only thing that kept me going through the all-night study sessions, finals and months of long seven-day workweeks.
Once everything is packed, I snatch the pair of airline tickets from the nightstand and sit on the end of the bed.
Two first-class round-trip tickets for Avie Carrigan and Conrad Sullivan.
Nonrefundable.
I swipe at the warm tear trickling down my cheek.
Pull it together, Avie.
I tuck the ticket with my name on it inside of my purse and tear the one with his name into tiny pieces.
Asshole.
Conrad and I had been dating for almost three years, and stupid me thought maybe he was planning to hide a ring away in his luggage to surprise me on this trip.
It was always the plan. Once I finished school, we would move to the city and begin our life together.
Instead, he took me to dinner last night and professed how much he loved me at the same time he was breaking up with me.
Dumped. The night before the trip of a lifetime.
He said we needed a breather.
I asked, “What the hell does that even mean?”
He explained that his dad’s best friend had offered him a job at his architectural firm in New York.
A job that starts next week.
He accepted the position, and he is moving this weekend.
When I asked why the news meant that we needed a breather, he said he wanted to concentrate on work and that a long-distance relationship would be too much of an emotional drain.
“Look, the job is a summer internship. I need to be focused in order to prove myself. After that, I’ll know if it’s what I want to do and where I want to be. Then, we can revisit our situation and see if I want you to move to New York or if I should move back here to Atlanta.”
What he wants to do and where he wants to be?
I stood up as calmly as I could muster, told him he could go fuck himself, picked up the glass of red wine I had been drinking, and dumped it in his lap before I made my way out of the restaurant.
When I made it home, all of his things were gone from the apartment we shared. His clothing, toiletries, laptop, and even the expensive gaming system I’d bought him for his birthday last month.
The jerk had packed up his things while I was on campus. Before bothering to tell me he was moving out.
I will not cry again.
My phone chimes from the dresser, and I stand to see the message that my Uber driver has arrived.
I sling my purse over my shoulder and grab my suitcase.
As I pass the full-length pedestal mirror in the corner of the room, I admire my tanned shoulders peeking out of the top of the gorgeous palm-print maxi dress. I place a wide-brimmed straw hat on my head and pull on my new aviator sunglasses before slipping into the white sandals by the door.
Glancing back at the apartment one more time before shutting and locking the door, I head to the elevator.
The driver takes my suitcase and loads it into the back of the car, and I open the door to the back seat, where I find my best friend, Amiya, waiting.
“Hey, chica. I’m ready to get this tropical party started,” she cries as she scoots to the left to make room for me.
Thank God she was able to get off work at the last minute to join me. The romantic getaway I planned will now be the girls’ trip of a lifetime. And the best part is that it’s being partially funded by the douche formerly known as the love of my life.
“I’ve been looking at the resort’s website,” She taps her phone screen and begins to read, “Welcome to your own private paradise. Our property prides itself on being an exclusive getaway experience, curated just for you. Where you can disconnect from the stress and worries of life, connect to a dream landscape, and enjoy exceptional service with your own personal butler. At The Stanhope Grand Resort, we are all ohana.”
She looks up from the device and at me. “That means family.”
“I know.”
“The pictures are insane. I can’t believe we get to stay there,” she squeals.
Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself getting excited about the trip.
The driver drops us off at the airport, and we make our way to the Delta counter to see if I can get the ticket Amiya purchased upgraded.
“I’m totally okay in coach. Just send me back a free cocktail or two,” she says.
“It can’t hurt to ask if they can move you beside me. It’s not like anyone else will be sitting there.”
“But I checked last night, and the cost difference is astronomical,” she informs.
I reach into my bag and pull out the American Express card that has my name on it.
“I don’t want you to pay for it either.”
I grin. “I’m not. This is Conrad’s account. He gave me a card with my name on it to his account a while ago so I could pick up his dry cleaning, grab takeout, and fill his car up with gas on the occasions he was working late. I think the least he can do since he left me with an apartment that still has five months left on the lease is pay for your upgrade.
“Oh, it absolutely is the least he can do,” she agrees.
After I explain the situation to the lady at the ticket counter she changes Amiya’s seat, and we quickly make our way through security.
We grab a bite to eat and a couple of beers at Phillips Seafood while we wait for boarding.
Amiya flirts shamelessly with our barely legal server as I incessantly check my phone.
Once our glasses hit the table, Amiya reaches across the table and snatches my phone from my fingertips.
“Hey!” I quip.
“Hey nothing. You’re not going to keep staring at this thing, looking for a text from him or cyberstalking his social media accounts while we’re in Hawaii. In less than twelve hours, we’re going to be draped in leis and frolicking in paradise. Conrad fucking Sullivan is not going to ruin this trip any further. Got it?”
I nod.
“Let me hear you say it,” she insists.
“Conrad fucking Sullivan is not going to ruin this trip,” I affirm.
She opens the top of her bag and drops my phone inside. “You’ll get that back when we return home.”
“Fine,” I huff.
She smiles, picks up her glass, and leans in. “There will be an incredible amount of beautiful men there, and we’re going to find one to occupy your time. You’ll forget all about what’s his name before we return. Here’s to a wicked holiday affair.”
I raise my glass and clink it against hers. “Cheers.”
Chapter 2
We land at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport and disembark. After claiming our baggage, we are greeted by a couple from the car service Conrad hired, receiving one of the warmest welcomes I’ve ever encountered. The two are waiting with a sign that reads Mr. Sullivan and Miss Carrigan.
