Down for Her

by Melissa Chambers

  “No, of course not,” Kylie says, shifting in her seat.

  Tiff rests her arm on the doorframe. “I know about two dozen girls who would give their eyeteeth to stay in this house for the weekend. I’m about to ditch my girlfriends and trade places with you.”

  I pull her away from the car. “All right. You can stand down now.”

  She puts her hand on my waist then slowly moves it across my abs. “If you need someone to tell you a bedtime story, you know where to find me.”

  “I sure do. See you on the beach later.”

  “You can meet my friends.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  She wiggles her fingers at me and heads down the sidewalk, putting a shake in that walk for me to enjoy. Kylie clears her throat, getting my attention.

  I put my hand on the doorframe. “Do you trust me now?”

  She closes her eyes, gripping the steering wheel, and then lets out a hard breath. “Not really.” She opens her door.

  We stand face-to-face. She’s tall. I’m just an inch or two taller.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “No problem.” We head inside, and I walk to my bedroom and set her bags on the floor. She stops in the doorway, shifting her body weight from one side to the other. “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing. It’s just, I’m pretty sure this is my father’s actual worst nightmare.”

  I huff a laugh. “What, he thinks you’ve never spent the night in a strange guy’s room?”

  Her face turns red, and she slides inside, lifting her bag onto the bed.

  “Ah,” I say and start to walk out.

  She jerks her head around. “Ah, what?”

  “You haven’t ever spent the night in a strange guy’s room, have you?”

  “What does that matter?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It just helps me understand you better.”

  “Oh, so you think since I haven’t had a one-night stand that you know me?”

  “I know something about you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Then tell me something about you I should know.”

  She stares at me like she’s trying to gauge whether or not she can trust me. She should definitely decide negative on that. “You go first,” she says.

  “There’s nothing you need to know about me other than I’m not going to slip into this bed with you in the middle of the night…unless you ask me to.”

  She huffs a humorless laugh. “No worries about that.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Shower’s through there, but good luck finding a towel.” I shut the door and head out for a beer.

  3

  Kylie

  I collapse onto Brett’s bed and drop my face into my hands. Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep breath. What am I doing here? I’ve only second-guessed myself eight thousand times, but I’ve come too far to turn back now. I’ve made a statement by walking away. I won’t beg my father for help, and I won’t be like my mother and sacrifice my soul…at least not from now on.

  Even so, this could be my early demise. Tomorrow’s headline could read, “Woman Found Hacked Up in Guy’s Bathroom.”

  If Brett is a psychopath, he’s a damn good-looking one—not that I’m noticing or anything. The very last thing I need is to get mixed up with another man. But he’s kind of hard to look away from with his whole young Tom Hardy thing going on. And he must be decent at heart, because he is helping me, albeit reluctantly.

  I check my phone for messages and find one from Joshua. I close my eyes and let out the exhale to end all exhales. This is definitely not what I want to deal with at this moment.

  Your dad called me today. He wants me to talk some sense into you.

  I can’t help but get a little satisfaction out of this. My dad’s desperate. He can feel his control slipping away. Joshua texts again.

  Is it true he cut off your credit cards and bank account? That’s hard-core.

  My lip curls up in disgust as I refrain from responding. He doesn’t deserve my words.

  Samantha says you’re not staying with her anymore. Where’d you go?

  I just sit there staring at the phone, the rage building up in my gut once again.

  Come on, just tell me so I don’t have to bug all our friends with our dirty laundry.

  I stand up and throw the phone on the bed. “Your dirty laundry, Joshua. Yours.”

  I head into the bathroom. It’s boy-gross, but not filthy like the rest of the house, which is a supreme relief. I shower the road trip off my body and out of my hair and then put on a lounge set. I pull out a pack of peanut butter crackers I got from the convenience store where I filled up my car with three dollars’ worth of gas. I didn’t even know you could do such a thing till I tried it and it worked. In my previous life, I just let the pump go until it cut off.

  I’ve been lying here at least an hour, obsessively going through my former friends’ Instagram pages when I hear a knock at the front door. I sit still, hoping they will go away, but then the door opens. Whoever it is comes into the house.

  “Brett!” I hear a female voice shout. Footsteps sound down the hallway, and I brace as the door flings open. “Naptime’s over. Get your—” A short girl sporting a messy bun—dark on top, auburn on bottom—stares at me. “Shit. Sorry.” She frowns and then holds up her hand. “Relax. I’m not one of the many. Is he in the bathroom?”

  “Um, no.”

  She checks her phone. “Asshole’s ignoring his phone. We’re supposed to go to the bonfire together, but screw it, I guess.”

  As she goes to shut the door again, I say, “I’m not either.”

  She stops and eyes me.

  “I’m not one of the many. I’m Kylie.”

  She just looks at me funny.

  “He’s helping me out. I needed a place to stay.”

  This seems to register with her. “Of course he is. Where did you come from?”

  I sit up in the bed. “Oklahoma. I thought this was my housing unit. I mean, Lauren in Housing gave me the key card and unit number for this place, but clearly I’m not supposed to be here. I start work at the resort on Monday.”

  “Thanks for the info, but your business is your own. You don’t know where he is?”

  “No, he left out of here maybe an hour, hour and a half ago.”

  “What about Val?”

  “I haven’t met him yet.”

  “All right. Well, if Brett gets back, tell him I went on to the bonfire without him. I’m Tori.”

  “Will definitely do.”

  She goes to shut the door and then scrunches up her face like she’s dreading her next words. “Do you want to come to the bonfire with me?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I’m good right here.”

  She lets out a sigh and puts her hand on her hip. “Get up. Come on. You can’t spend your first weekend here holed up in this nasty-ass place.”

  “No, really, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t go to parties?”

  “I do, of course,” I say, sounding very unconvincing. Something tells me if I mention to this girl that the parties I go to are typically catered and at someone’s McMansion, I’ll get an eye roll.

  She shakes her head. “Man, have you happened into the wrong house. Come on. I’m offering to help you. I don’t do that a lot.”

  As much as I want to stay in this bed, I know that part of all of this distance from my father and Joshua and finding my own place in life means I have to venture into the wild, and this girl seems like she would be a good guide.

  “Okay, just give me a minute to change,” I say.

  “I’ll be waiting on the front porch.”

  Most of my clothes are in my other suitcases in the trunk of my car. I don’t want to be assuming by breaking all those out. So I dig in my smaller bag for anything, and I come up with a knee-length flowy skirt and heather-gray V-neck. I’ll call it hippy chic and see if I can pull it off. I head out to meet her, and she loo
ks me up and down as she hands me a can of beer. “You’re kind of dressy. Are you sure you don’t want to put on some shorts? It’s the beach.”

  The only shorts I have are the ones Lauren gave me at check-in that sport the resort logo, so I say, “I’m comfortable in this skirt.” She shrugs and we head down the steps.

  “Do you work here?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I’m a recreational therapist.”

  “Oh. What does a recreational therapist do?”

  “I put together treatment plans for the kids. Brett and I consult with one another, usually one or both of us with their therapists at home so we can provide the best care for them possible here for the week or two, however long they’re staying.”

  I nod as if this all sounds normal. But I’ve got to admit, I’m confused. “And you do that here?” I say, pointing at the ground.

  She looks at me funny. “Yeah. Are you familiar with what this resort is set up for?”

  I clear my throat. “Maybe not.”

  “Families who have kids with disabilities or who need accommodations come here for vacation. The resort is set up with them in mind.”

  “Oh. Wow,” I say, feeling ridiculous for having missed this in my two minutes of research I did for the job I applied for. I simply searched Jobs in Florida Panhandle with employee housing and thought the stars had aligned when these people responded. “Shouldn’t all resorts have them in mind?”

  “I imagine most all resorts are ADA compliant, but we go past the minimum requirements. Kids Company is a place where parents can drop their kids and feel completely comfortable that they’re in the hands of trained professionals who have made an effort to get to know them before they even arrive.”

  “That’s amazing. Truly. And Brett…is he also a recreational therapist?”

  “He’s an occupational therapist.” She eyes me. “What job did you take here?”

  My neck heats up. “Pool attendant?” I say, like I’m asking permission.

  She shrugs as if accepting my fate and takes a sip of her beer as we walk down the sidewalk.

  “Tori!” shouts a guy from a porch at one of the housing units that looks exactly like Brett’s. “Skip the bonfire. Bring your friend here and hang with us.” Tori simply holds up her middle finger and we keep walking.

  She leads us to the end of the street, where we cut through the backyards of some condominiums and make our way to the top of a flight of stairs. Down below, a bonfire swells with flames licking up toward the sky. People our age swarm around laughing, dancing, and hooking up. I haven’t been to a party like this since college. The get-togethers in our friend group back home involve expensive bottles of wine, hors d’oeuvres, and couples sitting around debating Turks and Caicos versus Tuscany.

  Tori grins at me. “Come on, pool girl. Let’s find some boys who can hold our interest.”

  We scurry down the beach access stairs, and when we reach the bottom, Tori kicks off her flip-flops near a pile of shoes, so I follow suit. My toes melt into sand as fine as powdered sugar. “Wow, I’ve never felt sand like this before,” I say.

  Tori grins. “Welcome to the panhandle.”

  I follow her into the party, where a cute guy grabs her and pulls her to him like he’s going to kiss her. She pushes him away and then pulls him down to her by his T-shirt, kissing him on her terms. She turns to me, smiling. “This is Logan. He bartends at Big Fish Pub at the Circle. So if you ever need a free drink, he’s your guy.”

  I nod, my neck going warm, because he’s super cute. Do they breed them cuter in Florida? “The Circle…that’s where they have all the restaurants and games and stuff?”

  “Yep,” he says, wrapping his arm around Tori’s waist.

  “Kylie’s new,” Tori says. “She starts Monday.”

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m starting at the lagoon pool,” I say, avoiding the inevitable.

  “Lifeguard?” he asks.

  The pit of my stomach sinks. “No, pool attendant.”

  He shrugs. “That’s cool. Your drinks are definitely free.”

  “Like she wants to hang with the tourists.” Tori covers the side of her mouth and points at him, whispering, “Weak.”

  Logan picks her up and tosses her over his shoulder. “I’ll show you weak.” He runs off with her as she squeals at him, pounding on his back.

  I take a deep breath, realizing I’m totally solo. I knew I should never have left Brett’s room. I look around at all the people, feeling like a whale in a river.

  My eye is drawn to a couple. The girl is leaned up against a WaveRunner and the guy has his legs spread apart, leaning in toward her. She grins up at him like she’d rather be nowhere else on the planet. He runs his hand across her cheek, resting it on the back of her neck, smoothing his thumb over her jawline. My stomach fizzes like I can understand what she’s experiencing.

  I’ve never once had a guy make me feel that dominated. My relationship with Joshua has been so settled from the beginning, so ordinary…predictable.

  My heartbeat pounds for her as he takes her hand, so confident, knowing she’s totally ready to surrender herself to him. They start to walk away when he turns his head toward the fire, and heat rushes through my whole body as I realize it’s Brett. I thought his shaggy hair was brown, but now that it’s dry, I see it’s dirty blond.

  He catches my gaze and smiles at me like the dog that got the bone.

  “Hey.” I turn to find a guy who has come up to me, tall, dark-haired, and so gorgeous I think I might need to step backward to take him in. His hair is cut short like a business guy, but with just enough wavy length to keep him youthful. His body’s tall and broad like a tight end.

  He doesn’t fit in with this crowd. He’s way cleaner cut than the rest of them. He reminds me of home.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “I don’t recognize you. Are you here with a friend who works at Destiny Dunes?”

  “I just got a job there. I start on Monday. Do you work there?”

  “Yeah. I’m Jack.” He proffers his hand, and I take it and shake it.

  “Kylie,” I say. “What do you do at the resort?”

  “I work in Business Affairs. Been here ever since I left college.”

  “When was that?” I ask, a sneaky way to gauge his age.

  He closes one eye, thinking. “Five years now, I guess?”

  “Where did you go to school?”

  “Cornell.”

  Definitely feeling more at home with him, but I’ve got to remind myself that my old life is behind me now. I’m a pool attendant, and that’s how this guy will see me. “What brought you all the way down here?”

  “I’m from Atlanta. This is close enough to home where I can head up there for a weekend if I want but far enough away not to make me crazy.” He tilts his cup toward me. “Where are you from?”

  “Edmond, Oklahoma.”

  He stares at me blankly, nodding.

  “I went to OU in Norman though.”

  “Ah,” he says, on more familiar ground. Most guys know OU because of their stellar football team. “You’re far from home, aren’t you?”

  I run my toe through the sand. “You have no idea. So why Cornell?”

  “It’s actually the number one school in the country for Hospitality Management.”

  “So you knew going in that’s what you wanted to do?”

  “It’s the family business. My dad’s pissed ’cause I didn’t come to work in his hotel in Atlanta.”

  I chuckle. “I guess we have pissed dads in common. Mine is mad that I actually moved across the country from him.”

  He holds up his cup to mine. “To pissed dads.”

  I smile and touch my cup to his. “May they mind their own business.”

  He smiles at me like I’ve just crossed a line from stranger to friend. “Do you live at the resort?”

  What a loaded question. “Yes, I hope so, at least. They screwed up my housing reservation, and I
walked in on a naked guy today.”

  “Whoa,” he says with a concerned look. “Bet that was more than you bargained for. You okay?”

  His reaction of concern instead of laughter is comforting to me in a strange way. I feel like I’ve been playing defense since I stepped into Brett’s house. It’s a nice break. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking, though.”

  “Who’d you walk in on?”

  “This guy named Brett. His roommate’s name is Val, but I haven’t met him yet.”

  Jack sports a rueful smile and hangs his head, shaking it.

  “You know them?” I ask.

  “I know Hargrove…Brett, I mean. Yeah.” He pockets his hand, lowering his chin. The expression on his face has soured.

  “Not a fan?” I ask, because clearly, this guy has some beef with him.

  “It’s a long story. Did you get the housing mistake figured out?”

  “No, actually. We went down to the housing office, but it was already locked up tight. Brett’s letting me stay in his room until Monday morning, when we can get it all cleared up.”

  He huffs a laugh. “I bet he is.”

  “Nothing’s happening between him and me. Trust me.”

  “It’s him I wouldn’t trust,” Jack says, looking past me. “Speak of the devil.”

  I swivel my neck as a hand sweeps across my back and rests on my hip. Brett stands beside me, and my traitorous girl parts tingle from his touch. I’m this close to pulling away, but I’m too curious to see what his game is.

  Jack returns Brett’s glare. “Hargrove.”

  “Massey. I see you met Kylie. She’s staying with me this weekend.”

  “Thanks to Housing’s screwup.” Jack turns to me with a wink. “I’ll call them tomorrow and get it straightened out for you.”

  I’m about to open my mouth when Brett says, “No, thanks. I’ll handle it Monday morning.”

  “Or I could call Robert right now and she could be snoozing in her own bed tonight,” Jack says.

  “It’s handled,” Brett says. “Mind your own damn business. Why are you even here? I thought guys in your position didn’t make it down to the trenches.”

  “Robert likes me to mingle with our employees. Keep my eye on morale, report back to him. You know, general right-hand-man duties.”