Page 3 of The Trouble with Players

“I need you to get your stuff out of my room,” I said.

“Now wait a minute, Peyton,” my father said. “I never said I was relocating Crew. He’s our guest.”

Crew crossed his arms, his smug eyes narrowing on mine.

“Why don’t you take the guest room,” my father said, pulling my attention to him. “The bathroom’s finished now.”

“The guest room doesn’t have an ocean view,” I countered.

“Crew’s a guest,” my father said, pegging me with his eyes. “We always treat our guests with hospitality.”

Feeling my anger growing, I spun away from them. “Screw this.” I stormed out of the house, making my way around the pool, past the pool house, and to the sandy path. I needed my beach. I needed to be away from a man who I despised and a guy who I’d likely punch in the face if he didn’t erase that smug look from it.

CHAPTER TWO

I trudged through the sand in my sneakers, finding a spot on the beach just out of reach from the waves to sit. I slipped my phone from my pocket and called my mom.

She picked up on the first ring. “Peyton?”

“Mom?”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Are you?”

She was slow to respond. “I’m getting there.”

“I wish I’d known you weren’t here…”

“I’m sorry for that,” she said.

“I would’ve flown to Alabama,” I explained. “I still can.”

“I know. But…I think you and your father have some unresolved issues that you need to work out.”

“You set me up?” I asked, unable to believe she’d do something like that to me. I was just as hurt as she was.

“I couldn’t bring myself to go back there,” she admitted. “I need time.”

I closed my eyes. The pain in her voice broke my heart. “I understand.”

“I love you, Honey,” my mom said.

“I love you, too,” I said before switching off my phone.

I lay back on the sand unsure how to feel about what she’d said. I knew my father and I had unresolved issues. But if I wanted to resolve them, I would have shown up for Thanksgiving or come home for Christmas break or arrived in May when my junior year ended instead of going overseas.

But I hadn’t.

Because I didn’t want to resolve the issues.

“Peyton?”

I sat up as my next-door neighbor Gina hurried out from her path. We’d grown up together at the beach. She’d been my partner in crime over the years. And though we clicked over our love for the beach, we were as opposite as they came. I was Chucks and band T-shirts, and she was wedges and sundresses.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting down beside me and tucking her sundress under her as she did. She’d cut her long dark hair to her shoulders and it looked curlier than it had over the years. “I thought you were going to be gone all summer?”

“Long story.”

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