Page 45 of Beyond the Bright Lights

We're a hidden gem.

Hidden until Rebecca’s book put us on a map. Then forgotten until Mylan’s ridiculously handsome face showed up.

“You okay?” Mylan whispers. His breath sweeps across my ear, and I shiver, causing Mylan to chuckle.

Before I can answer, the turn to the secluded cliffs nears. I inform the driver, and he pulls onto a bumpy dirt road. The road ends a short minute drive later.

We're here.

We grab our bags, Mylan taking mine and the picnic basket I packed, and I swallow the nostalgia creeping up my throat as I lead our group down a half-mile-long trail.

I haven’t been here in years.

The trees encasing the trail begin to thin and slivers of light blue sky emerge. The dirt ground fades away, revealing jagged rocks. I hold my breath with my next steps.

The forest opens and a vast canvas appears, painted with nature’s best artwork. The sun sparkles in the dark blue waters of Bluffs Lake. We walk across the sedimentary rocks that make up the bluffs the lake was named after. Some cliffs around the massive, sixty-mile-long lake are forty feet tall. The ones we’re visiting today are only about ten feet high.

The lake is too wide to see the land directly across from us, only shades of green to indicate lines of trees. Speed boats—pulling people on skis, or people in a tube, holding a beer in one hand while throwing up a fist of joy with the other—skid across the water top, creating small waves over the calm waters that lap up along the sides of the rocks.

“Wow,” Mylan exhales next to me.

He tries to grab my hand, but I quickly pull it away on instinct. We haven’t reached the holding-hands-in-public stage of our . . . whatever it is we’re doing. Mylan clenches his jaw but doesn’t say a word.

We set our belongings down, spreading out towels so we don’t burn our asses on the sun-soaked rock. Ginger is the first to peel off her t-shirt and shorts, biting her lip seductively when she spots Bruno appreciating her full figure. Eloise rolls her eyes at the two but smiles beautifully.

The two extra bodyguards stand at the tree line, guarding the trail’s exit, ready to intercept a wayward fan or paparazzi. They remind me of secret service agents with their buzz cut hairstyles and aviator sunglasses. Surprisingly, they’re not wearing suits. Instead, they’re dressed for the hot day in white t-shirts and khaki cargo shorts.

“Who’s going to jump first?” Eloise asks, taking off her sundress. Underneath, she’s wearing a deep red bikini. My stomach jerks with jealousy. She has an amazing body. I looked like that once.

I curse my fatphobic thoughts because I never want to go back to the woman I once was.

I was miserable.

“I’m going first,” Ginger says. Her excitement is addicting, and I’ve missed how familiar this feels. We used to come here all the time in high school. It was our spot. Mine. Ginger’s. Tyler’s. “But sunscreen first. Y’all are too white, and this sun is unforgiving. I’m Black and even I put on sunscreen during lake days.”

Ginger doesn’t waste time, slathering on a good amount of the lotion. Once done, she squeezes more in her hand before tossing the bottle to Eloise.

Ginger beckons Bruno. “Come on, handsome.”

Bruno’s face lights up, and he removes his shirt at record speed, ruffling his shoulder-length blond hair and revealing a tanned and toned body underneath.

My cheeks already hurt from smiling. I will myself to look away as the two flirt like crazy and take my own sunscreen out of the bag I packed for today, which also holds my towel, a few bottled waters, and a romance book.

Who needs to read a book when you’re living a real-life, blossoming romance?

My eyes drift to Mylan and what happens next can only be described as a movie moment. Time slows down and seductive music plays as Mylan peels off his shirt. It’s the first time I’ve seen his body. When he fucked me with his mouth and fingers twice now, he was still clothed.

I hold my breath, watching his muscles ripple and flex as the fabric lifts over his tight stomach, his defined chest, his broad shoulders. The shirt catches on his hair, tousling it beautifully.

Fuck.

I must have said that out loud because Mylan’s head whips to me and he offers the sexiest smile, spread viciously across his criminally handsome face.

I'm frozen in place, staring at him. Hypnotized by him. He walks to me, tossing the shirt to the ground. It lands on the picnic basket of snacks I packed for us today.

“Can I have some of that?” Mylan points at the bottle of sunscreen. I nod, swallowing to wet my suddenly dry throat.

What is wrong with me?

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