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Ash smirks. “You wish.”
A quiet snort. He steps into his room and disappears.
Left alone in the balmy night air, Ash wraps her arms around herself, willing that funny feeling in her stomach to dissipate.
But even long after she’s gone back to bed, it lingers.
Nathaniel follows several paces behind Ash as they file out to the van before dawn. At his grandfather’s insistence, they’re headed to watch the sun rise over Diamond Head.
“Shit,” Ash swears, as her pack tilts.
Nathaniel sticks a hand out, catching a bottle of sunscreen in midair. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and murmurs a soft word of thanks.
Leaning in, Nathaniel spies glucose gels, sunscreen, and bottled water. At least she came prepared. Except for her attire. This morning, she’s clad in an oversized hoodie and tight tan shorts. The laces of her boots are untied, click-clacking on the stairs as she boards the van.
Tater takes the long back seat, sprawling out to listen to his podcasts. His mother and father sit separately. Nathaniel and Ash are crammed into one bench while his grandfather sits in front of them.
Leading the pack as always.
“Here we are,” Augustus says, handing out pamphlets.
He’s bright-eyed this morning, while Nathaniel slept like shit. Apparently, Ash did too. Late last night, she was on the phone, then again early this morning. The walls are fucking paper-thin, and she’s as loud as a car engine. Their run-in on the balcony flashes across his mind like a subliminal message—part confusion, part annoyance. He hates that he’s intrigued by her. Hates that he wants to know more.
Eyes on the pamphlet, his mother says, “I hear the views of Waikiki and the ocean are beautiful during the sunrise.”
Augustus chuckles fondly. “Up early to get the wiggles out. Remember we’d always say that, Claire?”
“Is this a good idea, Dad?” his mother asks, brow furrowed as she closes the brightly colored paper. “The hike sounds really taxing. Are you sure you can do it?”
“He can do it,” Ash adds, flipping through her own pamphlet. “Exercise is good for him.”
His father’s lip curls. “Are you a doctor, Ash?”
Ash shifts in her seat. Her pretty face tightens. “No, but I’ve been to several of Augustus’s appointments.”
“She’s right,” Nathaniel cuts in, giving his father a glare. Although he’s not sure why he’s playing defense. Not for this girl. Maybe because he’s seen the way his father treats the help, and the way the man pokes at Ash pisses him off.
Augustus squares his shoulders. “Until I start falling over, I’m on this earth to move around.”
With a noncommittal hum, his mother turns her face to the window, like she’s trying not to process the knowledge. If there’s one thing the Whitford family excels at, it’s denial. If they don’t acknowledge it, it never happened. After his failed wedding, it took his mother a year to ask about what really happened with Camellia.
“How long is this hike, Augustus?” Sighing, Don checks his Rolex. “I have a consult at one.”
Nathaniel rolls his eyes. “Dad. I think you can make time.”
“You’re bringing down the vibe, Don,” Ash adds, her face full of mischief. “If you took the time to read the pamphlet, you’d know the hike lasts between thirty minutes and an hour.”
Nathaniel bites back a laugh.
That rebellious say-anything streak of Ash’s sends a pulse traveling through his dick.
Fuck. What the hell’s wrong with him?
Don appraises him, his derisive gaze on his face, before moving to Ash and then back to his phone.
Ash leans in. “Is he silently carving up my face in his head?”
Nathaniel nods. “Without a doubt.”
