Page 11 of Totally Wrecked
“Then I would very much like to hear that story,” Killian says, settling back in his chair. Hair flops over his face and I fight the urge to smooth it back, he really is incredibly attractive. “I’ll make you a deal,” Killian says to me. “I’ll keep your secret for you on two conditions…”
“OK…” I say, dubiously.
“First, I need to hear that story.”
I groan, but when Killian puts out his hand to shake on our agreement, I reach out and put my hand in his.
“Agreed, and second?”
“Second is a kiss to seal the agreement. But from Daisy, not from Brooke.”
Oh, gosh.
“It’s a deal,” I whisper.
KILLIAN
She really is quite adorable. Now that the truth is out, it’s obvious she is not Brooke ‘Action’ Jackson.
Brooke has her shite together, she’s glossy and fierce (and if I’m honest, a little terrifying). She’s a reality TV star, and carries herself like someone who is used to having her face plastered all over supermarket magazines.
Daisy is a different kettle of fish. She squirms around and says bizarre things—quite obviously out of her depth. She carries herself like someone trying to avoid attention. I wonder if she is always that way, or if this twin-switch is what is making her so awkward.
A children’s librarian! That’s fecking hilarious.
She’s also wasted. I watch her eyes grow heavy, she’s going to nod off in her chair any second. I don’t want the evening to end yet: this Daisy-Brooke thing is the most fun I’ve had in months. Also, my fingers are flipping the lid of my cigarette packet open and closed… I need a smoke.
“Want to go for a walk?” I ask, “it’s not even ten yet.”
She shakes herself a little, then smiles. “Sure.” Her smile is open and full of relief. I’m glad I can help her out and be a friend in this ridiculous ploy.
We’ll go for a walk along the front. I’ll claim my kiss beneath the palm trees, on the white Samoan sand. That sounds alright to me. Then maybe I’ll ask her back to my room. I bet she wouldn’t be as bossy as Brooke.
But Mother Mary, she is drunk, and I’m not going to take advantage of that.
“Come on, sleepy.” I put my hand out and haul her to her feet.
Outside, the air is hot, and all around is the bustle of music, people, bikes and trinket sellers.
“Necklace for your pretty lady?” An old woman holds fistfuls of jewelry in my face.
I dig out some cash and hand it over in exchange for a length of turquoise beads. Putting it over Daisy’s head, I tell her it’s a keepsake from the night her big secret got busted.
“It’s lovely!”
And so are you.
“Let’s put our feet in the sea,” she suggests, fighting a huge yawn.
Hand in hand we cross the plaza, climb over the small retaining wall, and the beach is right there. Small boats are pulled up onto the sand, and a hundred yards away a group sits around a fire, singing and laughing. Sparks dance in the air.
We stay deep in the shadows.
“I like it here,” she says softly. “Can we hide from Frances and just live on this beach?”
“That would suit me quite fine.”
I take her face in my hands, and look at her. Feck, I was physically attracted to Brooke, but she didn’t do anything to my cold, cynical heart. But this girl? She just might be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The aforementioned cynical heart gives a little flip as, standing on her toes, Daisy brings her face closer to mine. Our lips hover just millimeters apart. She smells of strawberries.
