Page 92 of Surfer's Paradise

“Got another one?”

He turned, half-annoyed, half-disinterested, to find a tall, hot blonde smirking at him.

She had that coastal San Diego look—tanned, toned, wearing something tiny and tight, like she knew exactly what effect she had on men.

Isaac exhaled smoke, flicking his lighter open. “Yeah, sure.”

She plucked it from his fingers, leaning in for the light. “You look like you could use a distraction.”

Isaac was about to answer—was about to give some lazy, flirty, bullshit response—

But then—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Rosie.

Isaac turned to see her storming out of the bar, hair falling out of her ponytail, cheeks flushed, eyes flashing.

Oh, she was pissed.

The blonde exhaled, clearly assessing the situation.

“Well,” she said, stepping back with a smirk. “Good luck with that.”

She walked off, heels clicking on the pavement.

Isaac flicked his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, watching Rosie with raised brows.

“You done?” he asked.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “You are such a dick.”

He smirked. “Yeah, and?”

Rosie’s nostrils flared, her frustration spilling over.

Isaac let out a slow breath. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Fuck no.”

He rubbed his temple. “Rosie—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Isaac groaned, shoving a hand through his hair. “Your shit’s at my place.”

She shrugged. “So?”

Jesus Christ.

She was so fucking stubborn.

She wobbled on her heels, and he gritted his teeth, reaching for his phone.

“Alright, I’m done. You’re drunk. I’m getting you a cab.”

She glared. “You can’t make me get in it.”

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