“Why hadn’t you? Was one of you holding out?”
I purse my lips at him, running my fingers along the trim of the blanket. “Yeah, me.”
He lifts his eyebrows.
“My aunt I was telling you about…she’d made me promise that I wouldn’t get engaged until I was twenty-five. She talked a lot about the frontal lobe and how it wasn’t fully developed until that age and that no young person should make any important decisions until after it was done developing. I think it was just her way of delaying the inevitable. She never liked Joshua. She never liked my dad, either, for that matter.”
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 first day. Another is from a friend I used to do yoga with checking in for the first time in probably six months, wanting to know if I’ll meet her at a class tomorrow. She’s probably the only friend I have who’s not up to speed on my life. A third is from my mom in California, asking if I’ve come to my senses yet. Insert eye roll. And a fourth is from Brett.
Did you survive? If so, come meet some of us at Dolphin’s Fin around six. Half-price pitchers.
Relief floods my soul. I didn’t screw everything up with my weird kiss. At least it would appear that way.
Knowing my housing dilemma, my supervisor lets me cut out early. I walk to Housing and find a heavy-set, middle-aged lady sitting at a front desk, typing on her keyboard, not giving me a second thought.
“Hi,” I say.
She turns slowly and meets my eyes with a hint of unwarranted incredulity. “Yes?”
“I’m Kylie McBride. I started work here today. On Friday afternoon, Lauren gave me this key card for 1624, but it’s occupied.”
She takes the card and sets it down on the counter then keys something into the computer. “Yes, that one’s taken.” She turns back to me with raised eyebrows and her lips tight in a thin line.
I’m teetering on being put out, but I’m trying to keep a positive attitude. “Can I get the card to the one Lauren intended to put me in? I’m sure she just keyed the wrong number in.”
Another girl in her mid-twenties plops down in the chair beside this woman and takes a sip of a cup of steaming-hot something. She winces and scrunches up her face.
“Too hot?” I ask, hoping to open a friendly dialogue.
“God yes. I think I burned my tongue.”
“I
’m Kylie McBride. I started here today.” I point to the lady next to her. “I was just telling her that Lauren gave me the wrong key card on Friday.”
The girl rolls her eyes. “I hate to say this, but I’m so glad she’s gone. She made a mess of our system. She wouldn’t listen to me. Every time I’d try to train her on something, she’d just hold her hand up and say, I got it, so finally I was like fine. If you got it, then go ahead and mess everything up and see if I care. It’s not my butt on the line.”
I dig deep to exercise patience. “Right. So I was wondering if I could get the key card to the correct housing unit.”
She sits up straight, poised in front of her computer, all business. “Name?”
“Kylie McBride,” I say, not mentioning I just said it a second ago when I introduced myself to her.
The girl types. “One y?”
I think about that a minute, not sure where she thinks the y should go. “Yes, in Kylie.”
She types quickly and then hits the return button with finality. Then she repeats the pattern. The furrow of her brow does not set my mind to ease.
“This is weird,” she says, then types more…lots more. After a few moments of this, she meets my gaze, her expression taking on a contrite manner that I really wish it did not. “So, I’ve got some bad news.”
No, not that. Anything but that.
“The housing that Lauren placed you in was occupied as of last Sunday.”
I smile through gritted teeth. “Yes, I do realize that. I’m here now to get the key to the correct housing.”
“We’ve got quite a waiting list for housing.”
“Yes, I was told that during the interview process, but I got the email last Friday that said my housing had been accepted.”
“Oh, yeah, that went out by mistake to all employees. We sent a second email retracting it.”
My patience is wearing about as thin as a thread. “I did not receive a second email. Had I received a second email, I would have made alternate plans.” I leave out the fact that, had this housing not gone through, I would never have been able to come here. I would have kept my plans quiet until I figured something else out.
She squints at me, pointing at my phone. “You should check your spam folder. Did you set us up in your address book as we strongly suggested in our original communications?”
I exhale a deep breath. “No, because I was receiving those emails just fine.” I go to my email on my phone and look in the spam folder, and there sits an email from Destiny Dunes with the subject line RETRACTION. My heart sinks all the way to the ground, and I could collapse right here in this business office.
I close my eyes and then open them slowly. “So there are no openings in any other housing units?”
“No. Sorry,” she says, looking not sorry. “But you are on the waiting list.”
I stare at her for a minute longer, and when she starts typing into her computer again, clearly not on my case, I finally turn and walk out.
I spend hours on the couch at the business center, scouring websites for a place to stay, but it’s hopeless. Everywhere I’ve called or checked out needs first and last month’s rent, and I just don’t have it—not even close. I can’t bring myself to ask Samantha for more money. She’s already done so much for me. And I’m damn sure not going to ask Joshua.
The problem is I’ve got to have somewhere for the night. I can’t just keep staying here with Brett. He’s only offered me a place to stay through the weekend, and time’s up.
Something’s gotta give. I simply don’t have money and I don’t have a credit card, or any credit, actually. I want to pull my hair out for fluffing through life up until now, relying on someone else to support me. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been a carbon copy of my mother. I thought I was so different from her because I wasn’t going to let myself be humiliated by a cheating husband. But I see now that I can’t do this on my own. I need help.
I consider calling my mom and cringe. I don’t know which is worse, calling her or him. She’s already told me I should go back to Joshua and forgive him. But my mom’s self-esteem doesn’t even chart. She thinks no woman can do anything without a man. I can’t stand to prove her right.
I pull up my dad’s contact on my phone, pacing as I stare at it for a long time before finally hitting his number. He answers. “Hello, sweetie, how are you?”
“I’m good,” I lie.
“Still down South or have you made your way back home yet?”
“I’m still here.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate.”
I collapse onto the couch. “Dad, he cheated on me. Do you understand that?”
“What I understand is that I paid a hundred grand for a wedding that didn’t happen. You running off like this is an embarrassment to our family. It’s an embarrassment to our company, and it’s an embarrassment to me. You’re lucky I don’t sue you for the cost of this wedding.”
My stomach climbs up into my throat. I can’t believe he’s saying this stuff to me. I’ve always known he was ruthless in business, but I never knew he would be that way with me.
“I assume you’re calling because you need money?” he asks.
I wipe a tear away. “No. I’m just checking in.”
“Look, sweetie, I love you. But this is nonsense. You can’t just leave your life and everything you know because your fiancé had a simple indiscretion. He’s sorry about it. It happens. Joshua is a good man and he will take care of you for the rest of your life. I’m not always going to be here to do it, you know?”
I clench my eyes shut, digging deep inside for fight, but I don’t know if I have any left.
“If you’re ready to come home, just say so. I’ll send you enough to get back here. I’ll reserve you a room halfway for tomorrow night. I don’t want you to drive tonight.”
“I need to go,” I say.
“That’s a standing offer,” he says like he’s giving me the moon. I click the phone off and drop my face into my hands.
13
Brett
I order our last pitcher of beer from the bar and peer at the door while I wait. I don’t mean to be checking it every fifteen seconds, but I can’t help it. I want to see Kylie.
Last night, listening to her tell about the life she just left made me more interested in her. She’s everything I’ve worked to avoid since I got caught up in Madison two years ago, but somehow, she’s got me intrigued. She’s either really brave for stepping away from the life she had without a net or really naïve.
Her weird kiss this morning has kept me smiling all day. It seemed like the first time she’d ever gone in for a kiss. She’s made me feel like a middle schooler with a crush all day.
I take the pitcher of beer to the standing table Tori has for us.
“It’s seven thirty. She’s not coming,” Tori says, taking a cup.
I fake confusion, but I’m sure I’m caught. “What are you talking about?”
Tori rolls her eyes and holds her cup out.
I pour her a beer and concede. “I wasn’t looking for her. I thought Logan and Cohen might be coming. Logan worked the lunch shift, so he should be off. Just wanted to see if I needed to get one or two pitchers.”
She studies me. “Liar.”
“What?”
“You slept with her last night, didn’t you?”
“No. I mean, yeah, we slept, but we didn’t hook up.”
She shakes her head at me, staring me down. I freaking hate it when she does that.
I stand up straight and face her. “What?”
“You were all over her last night.”
“So? You and Val were messing around.”
“Val’s gay.”
“He’s been with women before,” I say.
She just drops her head to the side.
“Who says I’m interested in Kylie?” I ask.
“That goofy smile you’ve had on your face all day.”
I sigh, caught. “I’m not
gonna let it get out of hand, okay?”
“You’re going to be able to turn it off like you always do?”
“Of course.”
“All right,” she says, taking a sip of her beer, sounding wholly unconvinced.
We stand in stubborn silence for a while, until Jack Massey steps up to us. “You two are a lively duo.”
“Fuck off,” I say, not in the mood to spar.
“Damn. I know you hate me, but usually you’re good for a little banter.”
Tori glances away, the expression on her face revealing how much this asshole hurt her. I’d give anything if she could shake him, but I’m starting to think it’s not possible. It’s been at least eight or nine months since they were together. My blood boils thinking about what he did to her. “You know, you don’t have to come say hi to us. You can pretend we don’t exist all day long.”
He looks between the two of us. “I don’t want to be an asshole.”
“Too late for that,” I say.
He lets out an irritated breath. “I don’t want to be an immature asshole. How’s that? I’m trying to be civil.”
“Well, try fucking off next time,” I say, knowing I’m taking my frustrations out on him. He’s an easy target.
“It’s fine,” Tori says. “Just…whatever.” She takes a drink of her beer.
I’m about to stand up and say something else to Jack when he turns his head with a surprised smile and says, “Hey.”
Kylie walks up to us zombie-like, the color drained from her face.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I um…” She looks around like she’s trying to place herself and can’t. “I think I might have to go home.”
“You sick?” Tori asked.
“No, not Brett’s house. My dad’s house in Oklahoma.”
A stab of pain shoots through my heart. “Why?”
“Turns out I never had housing here to begin with. I got an automated email that said I did, but that was some kind of systems glitch, and they sent a retraction, but that went to my spam.”
Down for Her Page 8
