Page 47 of Covetous

Smirking, I lean against the wall and cross my arms over my chest as I tease, “Hi there. Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” he responds, running a hand through his buzzed blond hair. “You?”

“Sure,” I lie. “Well”—I push myself off the wall—“coffee calls. Gotta run.”

Just as I turn to leave, Liv’s head pops out of her bedroom looking completely disheveled and caught off guard. I stifle a laugh as I make my escape past the two of them.

Uh-huh. I knew it.

The smell of roasting coffee brings a smile to my lips. Then I remember what I have to do, and I feel like crying again. The exposed staircase and the open floor plan downstairs create a lack of privacy—one that Liv and I didn’t think about during our conversation the other day. It gives someone on the stairs the perfect vantage point of the downstairs areas and vice versa. I’m almost halfway down the steps when I hear voices. When I register whose they are, it’s too late to turn around. Victor and Esme are sitting at the kitchen table, both looking up at me.

It’s clear I’ve interrupted something. Their conversation ended too abruptly for me to think otherwise. I consider grabbing a water bottle and heading back to my room. But then I notice that Esme’s been crying, and Victor looks like he could use a few more hours of sleep.

“I’ll come back.” Before they can say anything—which they don’t attempt to—I hurriedly walk back upstairs.

Everyone agrees on a beach day. Beyond that, we’ll see where the night takes us, but we’re all leaning toward checking out the nightlife scene in Hyannis, which is known to be a popular area for tourists.

The warm sun beats down on our backs as we make our way to the beach. Liv and Smith’s subtle yet obvious affection for each other makes the walk less awkward. They can’t stop sneaking glances and smiling at each other. Esme and Victor, on the other hand, both have their sunglasses on. Neither has said a word to each other as we walk down the sandy-white path. I keep a comfortable distance from both pairs, not wanting to intrude.

As we reach the vibrant beach, packed with swarms of visitors and vacationers, Liv and Smith lead the way, navigating through the crowds until we find a spot that suits everyone’s preferences. We work quickly and efficiently setting up our beach gear. No one thought to bring an umbrella or a tent, but thankfully, there’s plenty of sunscreen to go around. Smith takes his time rubbing the white cream on Liv, ensuring that every bit of exposed skin outside her bikini is covered. Liv returns the favor, massaging the sunscreen into Smith’s front and back, paying extra attention to his abs.

Victor and Esme help each other, too, but they lack the same finesse as Liv and Smith, who might as well go back to the house and get naked. I manage on my own the best I can, doing quick work across my arms and legs, my stomach, and the places on my back I can reach. Once we’re all lathered up, everyone breaks off to do their own thing.

Underneath my floppy hat and prescription sunglasses, I observe the scene in front of me. The salty smell of the ocean fills my nostrils as I watch Victor and Esme walking along the shoreline, engaged in a serious conversation. The sound of waves crashing against the shore mingles with the playful laughter of Liv and Smith splashing each other in the low tide. A group further out is practicing their surfs, their boards slicing through the water.

Diverting my gaze to the sand, I notice two young girls with heart-shaped sunglasses building a sandcastle. Near them, an older man with a sunburned, hairy chest walks his furbaby on a leash. To my left, a pregnant mother and her daughter collect seashells, their voices carrying on the breeze. The little girl smiles at me and waves. I wave back, returning her grin.

Once that distraction wears off, I pull my e-reader from my bag, selecting a book from my TBR about two best friends who fall in love with the same man. I’m seven chapters in when Esme takes the chair next to me.

“Hey,” I greet her, setting my e-reader aside.

“What’s up?” she says, her gaze lingering on the rolling waves.

We sit together in silence for a moment. “Ian’s not coming.”

“Victor and I broke up.”

My attention snaps to her. “You did?”

“Yeah, last night.”

“Are you okay?”

She hikes a shoulder, hesitates, then shakes her head. The soft-pink flush to her face tells me she’s been crying or is about to. “I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry, E.” The familiar pang of guilt seizes me, the weight of it crushing me. But this isn’t about me. Esme’s hurting, and all I want to do is be the friend she needs. The friend I should’ve been all along. I reach over and hug her, running my hand over her back in gentle circles.

We stay like that until she pulls away, gathering herself by fluffing her curls and dabbing at her eyes underneath her sunglasses. “It was mutual…sort of. Off the record, he brought it up, but I agreed with him that it wasn’t working.”

“What can I do? I can ask him and Smith to leave?”

“Like, the beach house?”

“Yes. If that’s what you want. They can take an early flight back, and we can have the girls’ trip we intended on having all along. We’ll buy a boatload of ice cream, and I can make my famous strawberry daiquiris.”

A faint smile touches her lips. “You’ll do that? You’ll ask him to leave?”

“In a heartbeat.”

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