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No doubt it’s why they’re here. For a much-needed break.
The exact kind I need.
But I’m alone and?—
“Don’t look glum,” Haydyn says, all singsong as he slings a perfectly muscled arm around my shoulders. “Pretty thing like you should be sitting on a chaise lounge surrounded by oiled-up men. We only have me in the oiled department right now.” He grins and flexes his other arm that’s slick with lotion. “So how about we expand our little party?”
“Gross.”
“A little old, but old is experience,” he says with a wink. “Or we can find Amelia and have some drinks.”
“I don’t know…” I look at him. “Maybe this is too much for me. I was thinking of going back.”
“Amelia!” He booms her name. “Guess who’s being a little baby and wants to go home?”
My cheeks flame as about twelve people turn to look at me. Men in boating outfits, women both young and gorgeous and older and gorgeous, all stare with curious and judgmental eyes.
I duck my head. My eyes droop closed and I feel the man who’s name I don’t know suck on my pulse point.
A wave of something like soothing desire washes through me, and I let my eyes float open again, like I can tackle whatever this whole thing is. Amelia walks back over. She puts her arm around my waist and presses a drink into my hand. “Haydyn, you embarrassed her. She’s not used to being a regular person like us. She’s used to being in the spotlight.”
I look up, ready to protest when my gaze clashes and locks with the disturbing dark-haired man. His mouth sets in a hard line that if I didn’t know better, I’d call distaste, and I realize he’s close enough to have heard what Amelia just said about me.
Amelia drags me from Haydyn and leads me down to the lower decks where my cabin is located. She throws open the door, sits on the bed, and motions for me to take a sip. “What’s wrong?”
“I just… I’m…” I want to say something out of my element, that I’m not quite twenty-one, but I don’t.
She’s so sophisticated. Chic. Confident. And even though she’s not that much older than me, in experience and glamour, she’s decades ahead.
She knows these people, how to deal with them, how to act around them.
I have no freaking clue what I’m doing.
“I think I should go.” I take a sip of the drink. My mouth twists. It’s extra bitter. There’s not enough sugar and salt in the grapefruit. “I only know you and Haydyn. Trent’s back in New York, and so is Harley?—”
“Trent Eddington knows me and Haydyn, and he’s one of the premier art dealers, collectors, and gallery owners in the country,” she says. “He knows Brutus, who’s here. You’re perfectly safe. Drink up and relax. I’ll be back.”
She jumps up and darts out of the cabin.
I sigh and sink onto the mattress.
What the hell was I thinking, anyway?
The idea of being on a luxury super yacht and going to a private island to unwind without constantly being photographed or having my name smeared all over social media is still appealing.
But without Harley? Or a way to contact her?
Not so much.
My phone’s in its own private lockbox like everyone else’s. I sip my cocktail, the sucking of air over ice makes me frown. I guess the slightly more bitter taste made this one go down more easily.
I need to think about a plan. I overheard Amelia mention that there’s a boat going back to Miami later. That would be my final chance to get off this yacht.
I’m not sure which one I’ll choose, but I pack my things in preparation, ready for my exit.
“Oh,” Amelia whines, coming back in and spying my backpack on the bed. “Dakota.” Her sad, dramatic word sinks down in the air.
“Just in case.”
