Rhys quietly closed the door to the bathroom on Thursday morning, hoping he wouldn’t wake up the other guys. It was early, but he’d barely slept all night. The villa hadn’t exactly been quiet last night. Owen half-talked in his sleep, sounding a bit like he was picking up girls. Even worse, Riley hummed in his sleep. At one point, Rhys had thrown a pillow at him, causing Riley to break out into “More Than a Feelin’.”
The question is, who does he have more than a feeling for?
Rhys had already taken a shower, shaved, and changed into a pair of khaki shorts and a white linen shirt. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, but he also didn’t want to look like crap.
“Dude, where are you going?” Owen groaned, rolling over on the bed in the corner.
“Couldn’t sleep. Getting food,” Rhys whispered.
“Can I come?” Owen asked, already standing on the cool slate slabs of the floor. He was wearing a pair of boxers with little sailboats printed on them.
“Sure.” Rhys shrugged. In truth, he sort of wanted to slink by the girls’ villa in case Avery was awake too. They’d sat on the beach yesterday until the sun had set. Avery had talked most of the time, telling Rhys about how she’d always wanted to live in New York City and that now that she did, it was so different from what she’d imagined. She’d talked about how her grandmother had been named to Vogue’s best-dressed list every year in the sixties, how she’d always had a fabulous winter ball in her town house, how she’d given her jewels from her ex-husbands to her staff since she thought it was bad luck to keep them. Or something like that. Rhys hadn’t taken notes or anything, but he’d loved how Avery’s blue eyes lit up, how she talked with her hands, how she wasn’t afraid to show her enthusiasm.
Finally, they’d gone to meet everyone for dinner at the restaurant in the main hotel, where they’d sat on opposite ends of the table, occasionally catching each other’s eye through the flickering candles. Everyone had gone back to the villas and had swum in the pool, but he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone again, because Owen was there.
“Wanna grab some food by the pool? I bet there’s already a lot of girls there. They always get there early to put out their towels and stuff,” Owen said knowledgeably as he picked up his gray Nantucket Beach Squad T-shirt from yesterday and pulled it over his head. Rhys wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t understand how anyone could wear the same clothes two days in a row.
“Sure, pool’s fine.” Rhys shrugged as he slid open the sliding door. Together, the two guys walked out into the bright sunlight.
“I’m actually glad that we left before Riley got up,” Owen confessed as he began walking down the shell-encrusted path that led to the resort proper. “Something about him just seems weird. Do you think he was being flirty last night?” Owen asked.
“Well, you are irresistible,” Rhys cracked as he pushed his Ray-Bans down over his eyes. Ahead of them was the sprawling, two-story hotel, which looked like it was almost sitting on the blue water. He was so glad he was here instead of WestSea Manor, his uncle’s drafty country cottage that sat by itself on the middle of a hill in Dorset.
“Asshole.” Owen punched Rhys good-naturedly in the arm. “I meant Riley seemed flirty with Baby.”
They walked inside the palatial lobby, which was decorated in woods and steels. Teak ceiling fans circulated the muggy air. The concierge nodded to both of them as they made their way through the center of the lobby and toward the pool.
“He seems fine, dude. You’re on vacation. Baby can handle herself,” Rhys reasoned. Baby and Riley had seemed friendly last night, but the real problem was Owen. It must have been hard to suddenly be expected to bond with his mom’s boyfriend, not to mention her boyfriend’s daughter and her boyfriend. But Owen had such a chip on his shoulder when it came to Remington that he was biased against the whole group—he’d barely spoken two words to Layla, and now he seemed to be obsessing over Riley. Rhys didn’t know how to tell his buddy to just chill out. Maybe Owen did need to find a girl here, to take his mind off the whole family situation.
They walked onto the patio surrounding the expansive, amoeba-shaped pool. Scattered around were green-and-white striped cabanas, as well as blue lounge chairs.
“Here good?” Rhys asked, gesturing to a cabana by the far edge of the pool.
“Sure.” Owen pulled off his shirt and threw it in a messy heap on one of the bamboo chairs. Rhys surveyed the area. The pool was empty, except for a toddler curiously examining a turtle fountain by the edge while his mom watched. It was only 10 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning.
“Sirs, can I help you?” a waiter asked. Even the waitstaff’s white linen shirts reflected the resort’s laid-back but still posh atmosphere.
“I’ll have a mimosa,” Rhys said. “He’ll have one too,” he added, ignoring Owen’s snort. “You need to lighten up,” he said when the waiter walked away.
“Mimosa?! You are such a chick,” Owen laughed. “Speaking of chicks, we need to get started on our little mission. So, what do you look for in a girl?”
Rhys shook his head, annoyed that Owen was insisting on going forward with this whole plan. It was enough he was getting hourly texts from Hugh asking about his progress. “Well, I think you know what I like in a girl,” he said pointedly. Instantly, the tips of Owen’s ears reddened. Good. That oughta shut him up.
“Sorry, man.” Rhys shrugged. “Is this the age-old ass-or-chest question again?” The swim team discussed it at least once a week. The team was pretty evenly divided, with Chadwick Jenkins stating that he couldn’t decide. As if the skinny, terrified ninth grader actually had girls falling all over him.
“No. I mean, I like girls who know what they want and aren’t afraid to go after it,” Owen said, furrowing his brow as if he were really thinking it through. The waiter came back with two mimosas garnished with strawberries. Owen chuckled at the berry and drank half the glass in one gulp. He was more of a beer guy.
Rhys racked his brain. What did he look for? He’d loved Kelsey’s hair, her eyes, her slightly crooked incisor, and her artsy sense of style. Then there had been her enthusiasm and her coral pink lip gloss…. It was weird, but the harder he thought about it, the less he remembered. They’d dated for so many years, and known each other for so long, that it was hard to remember what exactly had attracted him to her in the first place.
Meanwhile, he knew precisely what he liked about Avery. He loved her silky blond hair, the way he could tell she’d really spent time on her outfits, certain that everything was wrinkle-free and matching, the way she seemed so self-assured—it was even cute when she bossed Owen and Baby around, because at the end of the day it was out of love. And yet, despite her in-charge attitude, Avery seemed a little vulnerable. She was wistful for the glamour of another time. She was, in the truest sense of the word, a romantic.
“Fantasizing?” Owen’s sarcastic voice pulled Rhys out of his reverie.
“Only about you,” he teased. In truth, the more he thought about Avery, the more he knew he had to see her. Even if she was Owen’s sister, even if he’d promised himself that for now they’d just be friends. She hadn’t said what she was doing today, and he wanted to catch her before she went horseback riding or deep-sea fishing or any of the other “family fun” activities Remington had suggested last night at dinner.
“Ha ha.” Owen surveyed his friend. Rhys was gazing into his mimosa glass as if it held the secret to the universe.
“I’m going to go,” Rhys said suddenly, bolting up off his lounge chair. “Catch you later.” He half-jogged off.
“Hey, what about meeting girls?” Owen called to Rhys’s retreating back. What the fuck? He picked up Rhys’s unfinished mimosa and drained it. Maybe he really wasn’t over the Kelsey breakup, and talking about other girls made him jumpy. But if so, wasn’t the best way for him to get over it to find another girl?
Short answer: Yes. But maybe not the girl he thinks.
Owen leaned back, enjoying the sun on his face. Already, he wanted to go back to sleep. Why had they gotten up so early? And on Thanksgiving, no less. They had plans for a big family dinner, but nothing scheduled for the day. Maybe he could just sleep until dinnertime, right here—
“’Ello, luv! You awake?”
Owen opened one eye. A girl was leaning over him, her tiny, rainbow-colored bikini top just inches from his eyes. Was he dreaming? It was possible he was. Her voice sounded just like the girl’s in My Fair Lady, Avery’s favorite movie when she was little. “Oi! Anything in there?” She tapped a long, acrylic fingernail against Owen’s head.
“Sorry, er, hi.” Owen pushed himself into a sitting position, blinking his eyes open. The girl had sort of crooked front teeth and short brown hair. Her skimpy bikini showed off her tanned body. Owen sat up straighter.
“Would you mind if I sat ’ere with you? Me mate’s ’avin’ a lie-in this morning. She had a busy night. ’Onestly, I think everyone round ’ere is mingin’. I’d much rather be in Ibiza, like last year. Instead, I’m here with me mum, so who’m I to say anything? Except that she’s bleedin’ tedious.” The girl pouted as she perched her bony ass on the edge of Owen’s chair.
“Uh, yeah,” Owen said dumbly. He had no idea what the hell she’d just said. “I can understand about the family stuff, though.” He shrugged. It was true.
“I’m Elsie.” She extended a hand toward Owen. Owen took it and shook it awkwardly, noticing as he did that her rainbow-colored bathing suit had shifted, exposing part of her boob. For being skinny, she certainly had a huge chest.
So does this mean he’s not an ass man?
“Owen. I’m from New York.” He tore his eyes away from her chest and focused them on her brown eyes. They were the same color as Chance’s, his dog in Nantucket, who they’d left with neighbors when they moved. She was kind of pretty and looked like she was Owen’s age, or even a year younger. Maybe he couldn’t understand half the words out of her mouth, and maybe she seemed like she’d already had a mimosa or two today. But he was on vacation. Why not hang out with her?
Because of the language barrier?
“D’you fancy going into the hot tub?” Elsie asked as she accidentally-on-purpose let the strap of her bikini top fall halfway down her shoulder. She had glittery eye makeup all around her eyes, as if she hadn’t bothered to wash her face the night before.
Elsie was smiling devilishly at him. Owen smiled back. He’d always known girls found him attractive, but usually they were much more discreet and just flicked their hair and played with the straps on their tank tops when they talked to him. This was almost too easy. “Sure.”
Owen took off his shirt and stood. Already, Elsie had scampered over to the oval hot tub that overlooked the ocean.
“So, I have this buddy, Rhys,” Owen said as he slid onto the bench of the hot tub. “He’s from New York too, and I know he wants to meet new people. You mentioned your friend, who was sleeping in. Is she—”
“Oh my God, Issy’s a right tart. It’s brilliant! They’ll love each other. And then we can also do… whatever you’d fancy.” Elsie grinned mischievously.
Owen wasn’t totally sure what Elsie was saying, but it sounded suspiciously like she was already whoring out her bestie to Rhys. A little more forward than he was used to, but wasn’t that the vacation spirit? He looked down and saw a rainbow-colored piece of fabric floating in the hot water. Elsie grinned at him, like they were sharing a secret. Had she just taken her bathing suit off? This was the Caribbean, not Europe—was that even allowed?
Somehow, I don’t think she’s the type to be concerned.
“Well, then, should we get it done and dusted tonight, then?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I can’t tonight,” Owen said, remembering their family dinner. “But tomorrow for sure.”
“Brilliant!” Elsie leaned back, her possibly naked chest and who knew what else concealed underwater. “Tomorrow, then.”
Tomorrow, tomorrow—it’s only a day away!