Page 27 of The Redheads

Dad worked the whole trip. The yacht’s Wi-Fi was being sketchy, so he kept going and coming from the boat. One of those times, he’d come back with Zeke. I tried to picture him how he’d looked that day. I’d made my way upstairs, hoping the sunshine might settle my stomach. It hadn’t. They’d been seatedon the deck together, drinking what I think had to be whisky. And they’d been laughing.

Things must have been very different between them then. Neither of them had looked at me as I’d sat miserably on the lawn chair watching them. I couldn’t stop staring. Zeke had been…magnificent, just in the way he existed. In the way he sat. Took up space. Sipped the adult beverage I had been too young to consume.

I’d felt young, stupid, and ugly in my pink bikini that somehow hid more than it showed, and I hadn’t wanted him to look at me in it. The words the previous nanny had slung at me about my weight the year before still resonated in my head—a weapon I would now wield at myself.

But then I hadn’t cared about that, because something happened to me as I stared at him. I was suddenly uncomfortable in a way that had nothing to do with how self conscious I was. No, my breasts were heavy, and there was a throbbing that started between my legs.

I hadn’t known what was happening, but the longer I stared, particularly at his hands and the way his back muscles moved, the worse it had gotten. I’d run from the deck, sliding on some water that accumulated near the stairs and nearly killed myself slipping down them before I caught myself on the last one. By the time I’d made it to the bedroom I shared with my sisters on the yacht, I was out of breath and my heart raced.

No one had noticed my near death or maiming experience. Why would they? I was invisible. But oh, so alive in that moment. With my back pressing to the door to stop anyone getting in because there was no lock, I’d touched myself. The trouble had been I had no idea really how to do that. I still wasn’t that great at it. I’d rubbed myself until it hurt and not achieved completion.

Orgasms were a constant problem for me. They didn’t come easily or often, most of the time a frustrating endeavor that left me annoyed and feeling inept at something others were able to get in a matter of minutes, if they were to be believed. When I was finally over trying to relieve the need that wouldn’t be fulfilled, I’d stepped back outside into the main sitting room just as the nanny had come down the stairs. What was her name? I’d known it then, but not now.

Couldn’t remember. Not for the life of me.

“Hope, where have you been? I’ve been calling you.”

She couldn’t tell us apart. It really was a joke. She’d been with us a month and didn’t have a clue which one of us was which. We didn’t even try to look alike. How did she not know? I ignored her. If she wanted me to speak to her, she had to get my name right. It wasn’t my problem she wanted Hope. If she’d wanted me, I’d have answered her.

“Answer me.” She stomped her foot. I wished she were the first nanny to stomp her foot at me. It happened often. We must have been frustrating as hell to deal with. I mean how many adults stomped their feet?

“Well, she might, if she were Hope.” Zeke leaned on the side of the stairs before he walked toward the bathroom. “But I don’t think Layla is responsible for answering for Hope.” He rolled his eyes and headed on his way.

The nanny breathed heavy, her cheeks red and her gaze angry, not at Zeke but at me. As though that whole thing had been my fault. I didn’t care. Let her be furious and embarrassed. He’d known which one of us I was.

That had been huge.

In the current time, I rolled onto my stomach. What did I know now? That kind of physical reaction to someone would be very unusual for me. I didn’t throb easily, and I mostly shied away from too much physical contact. It was hard enough toprotect myself emotionally without someone touching me in my most private of parts.

But Zeke could still do it for me. He had great hands I wouldn’t mind on my body. And I’d never get over the fact that he had hardly ever seen me in his whole life, and yet he’d known I was Layla and not Hope.

Beautiful, infuriating man.

I fell asleep thinking about that.

With the sun coming through the shades, I woke up fast. Disorientation hit me, and for a long second, I had no idea where I was. But then the day before rushed at me like a movie playing in my head. I’d run from my wedding, and I was staying at Zeke Scott’s house. I sat up, putting my face in my hands.

It was eight-thirty in the morning. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. I never slept this late. Ever. And I was due to be ready to leave with Zeke in half an hour. First day on the job, I couldn’t be keeping him waiting.

I checked my phone. My sisters had both answered me. They’d gotten home, they were fine, and no I hadn’t made a mistake. Bridget had gone so far as to tell me that Kit was a stupid asshole and she was glad to never have to see him again. I smiled at that. When Bridget got mean, she really got mean.

I stepped down on the floor and groaned. Yep, my feet still hurt. That was the trouble with foot injuries. They lasted, and I couldn’t forget about them. I limped into the bathroom and abruptly stopped. Next to the sink were bandages and pads as well as antibacterial lotion and an ace bandage. That had absolutely not been there when I’d gone to bed. Had it?

I really didn’t think so.

I stared down at it for a second. Had I slept through someone bringing it in here? I wasn’t a heavy sleeper, usually.

I woke up to any small noise in my apartment, and sleeping in the same bed with Kit had been next to impossible becausehe snored. But I had not heard anyone come in and leave these supplies here.

Had I been snoring when he came in? Did I snore? I shook my head. Well, if he’d come in when I was asleep, again, then there was nothing I could do about if I were sleeping loudly. It was actually really nice of him to think of this stuff, and I was absolutely going to need them. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, stuck my hair in a messy bun because I didn’t have time to deal with it, and brushed my lips with a little bit of lip gloss. I was barely presentable, but it would have to do.

I had two pairs of yoga pants with me that I’d intended to use as my get up and eat breakfast attire at the resort in Bali. I shoved on the black pair and covered it with a long T-shirt I sometimes slept in. It was white and plain.

The final step was to doctor up my feet. They looked worse than yesterday. The bruises I’d gotten were changing colors as bruises were apt to do, and I’d destroyed my pedicure. When my feet healed up a bit, I’d go get that fixed. I bandaged where I could, padded where I needed it, and shoved my sneakers back on.

I got out into the hall just at the same moment Zeke came out of his rooms. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that were darker than the ones he’d been in yesterday and a black T-shirt. His boots were what caught my attention. They were tall, like he might wear on a motorcycle.

“Morning. Sleep okay?” He closed the door to his bedroom behind him and took a step toward me. The fresh scent of the shower was on him, and I breathed in deep through my nose, hoping he didn’t notice but not able to stop myself from doing so.

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