Page 60 of Whiskey Splash

“Ha ha, very funny,” I deadpan.

“Esme,” Arie pops onto the bed and pokes me, which I barely feel with so many blankets swaddling me. “As I see it, that night was the most interesting thing to happen to you—ever! But primarily the part before the photography, where you and Desmond had some star-crossed-lovers-let’s-cross-galaxies-for-each-other type of chemistry.”

“Nope!” I hold a finger up to her. “No romance sci-fi movie-making bullshit! None of that is true in real life.”

“But that’s your bread and butter!” Arie tosses back, and I sit up in my swaddled state and stare at her.

“Hello! You’re the one who told me to stop drinking the Disney Princess Kool-Aid!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you to stop drinking the Desmond Pike afternoon delight!”

“It’s not happening.”

I flop back. I told Arie about how I talked to Desmond and how everything was awkward. In fact, look up every synonym for awkward and it still wouldn’t cover it.

“Your whole star-crossed-lover theory,” I counter, “can more accurately be chalked up to the fact that Desmond is an actor who plays a sex God on TV, and he’s picked up a thing or two in his plethora of opportunities to get women in the sack. Good technique. No crossing-galaxies-chemistry!”

“Personally, I think he’s into you.”

“He was into my pussy!”

“He most definitely was!” Arie hoots and I chuck my spoon at her.

“That’s not what I meant!” I scowl at her. “He can have any woman he wants. The fact that I was in his crosshairs—”

“And his boxers!”

I chuck a pillow at her. “The fact that I was the one who crossed his path for two-point-five seconds doesnot mean he has any real interest in me.”

“I hope he lasted for more than two-point-five seconds,” Arie teases.

“Is everything sex to you!” I growl.

“No!” My sister sits up with her wicked smile. “I’m also a big fan of food and booze and cooking. I have a restaurant, remember?” She gives me her best how-can-you-see-me-as-so-one-dimensional look, but then adds, “But I also love making everyone orgasm when they eat my sweet treats, so—” She jumps on me and tickles me. “I guess that’s kinda about sex by default.”

“You’re incorrigible!” I hiss.

“Oooh, big word!” Arie swoons, making fun. “You have no clue how that turns me on. You should ask Connor about it sometime.”

“Yes, I know Connor’s vocabulary makes you hot,” I sass.

“Everything about Connor makes me hot,” she says honestly.

The doorbell rings and Arie springs up. I roll my eyes at her. “Oh, you can’t wait for Naomi to take over, can you?” I tease.

Arie shrugs and heads for the door. “Maybe I’m excited to hear you give Naomi another play-by-play about Desmond’s giant cock,” Arie sasses back.

“We are not talking about his cock anymore!”

“Oh trust me, we are!” Arie calls as she skips into the next room. “There’s no way I’m letting you forget what you could be having!”

“That’s not how this works!” I yell after her. “He’s already forgotten my name and has probably moved onto his next Hawaiian adventure.”

Arie doesn’t respond, probably out of earshot or already gabbing with Naomi about how I’m not her blood twin because she can’t understand why I’m not knocking on Desmond’s door every night to offer him turn down service.

I roll over and look out the bay window of my bedroom, staring at my palm tree-framed view of the city.

This view—this window—is the whole reason I took this rental. The window is big enough for my bed and it creates the perfect reading nook. There are walls on three sides, and I’ve put several translucent sheers on the fourth side to make me feel like a princess. It’s the kind of nook that would make Pinterest jealous. It’s my favorite place in the house, heck, in all of Hawaii. It’s perfect for rolling myself into a stay-puft-marshmallow-man of covers as I get over Desmond.

---