Page 100 of Gin and Lava

“What’s his problem?” I ask Shauri. “They broke up.Hebroke up with her.”

Shauri’s eyes jet to Naomi like this is a sensitive subject, and I’ve just noticed the proverbial pink elephant in the room. “Yes,” Shauri says tentatively. “He broke up with her, but …”

I wait for her to say more.

She doesn’t.

Instead, Naomi and Shauri start exchanging glances in that voo-doo-girl-way that means they’re having a silent conversation in front of everybody.

“Hello,” I interrupt. “I don’t speak the silent vagina language.”

“We’ll talk later,” Naomi says out loud in a clipped tone to Shauri, who blushes, indicating thereismore to discuss in private.

Fuck.

Did Naomi leave important information out of her recap of her Wonderful life with Trifecta? I eye her for more information, but she ignores me, grabbing snorkeling equipment and tossing it in my direction.

“Let’s swim.”

I manage to catch the gear as she saunters in that sparkly bikini toward the ocean. I jog to catch up, hooking her elbow with the mouthpiece of my snorkeling tube.

“Hold up, Tate. Why do I feel like you’re breaking one of our rules?”

“It’s notneed to know, Mason,” she says, brushing off the mouthpiece.

“Which part?” I ask. “That Trifecta possibly wasn’t the one who called things off, or whatever silent BS you and Shauri just communicated with your mind-reading powers?”

Naomi turns and puts a hand on my bare chest, right above my heart like this is the part where she fake breaks-up with me with all of her friends in earshot.

“I didn’t lie about Sam,” she says sharply. “He absolutely broke up with me.” Her gaze is hard, needing me to understand that. I nod. “And I don’t know what Shauri isn’t telling me.”

“But …?” I urge her to say more when she’s silent again. Instead, Naomi’s hand grazes down my chest. It’s a distraction tactic to get me to miss the flicker of emotion in her eyes that she doesn’t want to tell me about.

Thereismore.

More that she doesn’t want to tell as indicated by the swipe of her hand at the top of my swim trunks. I snag her wrist.

“When you think Ineed to know, you tell me, Princess.”

I drop her hand and head for the water. The last thing I want to do is hang out with her friends and Trifecta and be blindsided when he drops a bomb that Naomi neglected to warn me was coming. I’d rather have an alien burst out of my chest circa the James Cameron sequelAliensin 1986 than have Jack Nicholson yell at me thatI can’t handle the truth.

But somehow, the truth is probably still going to feel like my ribs being broken open.

29

NAOMI

With a pineapple-whip-Dole-Plantation hangover, we finally retreat back to the beach house for the night. Shauri likes to tourist—and hard. I swear the girl has a Guinness book of World Records for most tourist-ing in one day in her future. I knew the schedule was packed, but I’m exhausted.

I flop down on the air mattress on the sun porch and look out at the sunset; the sky a vibrant pink. Mason drops his duffle bag on the floor and sits down next to me, eyeing the crowd that’s shuffling in the back door, through the sun room, and into the living space.

“We don’t get a room?” he asks, nodding to our very public accommodations.

I grab his side and pull him down onto the mattress, the airbed shifting and pitching him toward me until we’re snuggled in a Naomi-Mason lump in the middle of the blanket.

“Sorry,” I whisper in his ear, nuzzling his neck. “The bride and her minions get all the rooms with walls, but we get the sunset.” I motion to the screen windows that let in the smell of the ocean and show off the view.

“You did notice there are windows on the other side too.” Mason points to the fact that the bridesmaids and groomsmen are all on the couch with a front-row seat to our snuggling. I sneak my hands under Mason’s Hawaiian shirt. This one saysI rub my meat before I stick it in, and it’s surrounded by hot dogs and other BBQ grilled delights. Shauri laughed like a hyena when she saw it. Sam gave himself more wrinkles, his face etching into a permanent frown when Mason’s around.

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