Page 19 of Tourist Trap

“Jesus, sorry,” Miles says as I watch him step onto the deck and then stumble back, putting a hand to his eyes.

I don’t think he saw anything, though I wouldn’t care if he did. I always thought it was strange how men are allowed to go for a run with their nipples out for everyone and their mom to see, but a nip slip on a woman is worthy of front-page news.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I say, turning a bit to face him, still holding my top in place.

“Are you decent?” he asks, panicked.

I fight a smile as I answer. “I’m covered if that’s what you’re asking.”

He carefully peeks around his fingers in a way that is almost, dare I say, cute, before he drops his hand completely when he sees I’m holding my top up and covering myself, my back to him.

“Are you okay?” I ask with a smile, looking over my shoulder at him.

His eyes are wide and stuck on my back that’s bare. I know I’m not supposed to tan, UV rays, skin cancer, and all of that, but a few minutes out in the sun, tanning is almost a vice at this point.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to get a base before the summer. Those lifeguard tan lines are going to be brutal,” I say, draping the top ties over my shoulders and hooking the back clasp with ease.

“Without a top?” he asks, and when I look back at him again, his eyes are still locked on me, though he looks to his feet as soon as he notices I’m watching him.

“I have a top on,” I say, draping the ties over my shoulders. I then grab my hair in one hand and lift it, turning my back to a still-silent Miles. “Do you mind tying this?”

“What?”

I look over my shoulder with a smile I can’t fight.

“My top. Can you tie it? I don’t have a hair tie, and if I do it on myself, my hair will get tied up in it, and it hurts.” He stares at me for long moments, blinking a few times before he clears his throat. “Please?”

“I thought we made rules about you flirting with me.”

“I’m not flirting, I’m just living my life.” He glares at me, and I let out a small laugh because he looks so fucking flustered. “Sorry, sorry, fine. I’m flirting with you. I can’t help it. But if I tie it myself, I’m probably going to show you or whoever is on the boardwalk my entire boob, so?—”

He moves across the deck toward me so quickly, I have to choke back a laugh before his hands grab the ties. I grab my hair, holding it up high so it doesn’t get caught in the ties. His fingers hold the ties loosely, and I look over my shoulder at him.

“Would getting a glimpse really bethat bad?” I ask with a smile. He rolls his eyes before moving to tie my bathing suit top, and I look ahead as his fingers brush gently against the back of my neck sending goose bumps over my skin.

“Sorry, I don’t mix with privileged tourists,” he declares as he tightens the loops and steps back.

Ahh, so this is the take we’re still going with. Got it.

“You’re kind of an ass, you know that?” I ask with a laugh, not actually offended.

He smiles back because for as long as I’ve known him, this has been our thing: I flirt, he gets annoyed, and he bites back.

“I’ll be sure to write that one in my diary. Really hurt my feelings, you know?”

“God, what I’d give to read your diary.Dear Diary, today my brother’s super hot ex-girlfriend came to live with me, but I’m secretly super into her, and it makes me so mad,”I say in a fake gruff voice.

His face goes red, and I wonder if I hit the nail directly on the head and if it would be worth his wrath to look through his room from some little black book with all of his darkest secrets. Once a nosy little sister, always a nosy little sister.

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

I smile as I gather up my things and make my way inside the house to get ready for the day.

“It’s a nice ass, though,” I say over my shoulder as he follows close behind, and it’s not a lie: Miles Miller has aniceass, though when I smile at him, I don’t miss how he’s looking atmyass.

“Where are you going?” he asks as we move into the kitchen.

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