Page 88 of The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood)

Sydney’s text rolled in less than an hour after she’d left my house. I stepped out of the shower, banded a towel across my waist, and picked up my phone even though I was dripping water everywhere.

Sydney: Good news. I no longer have a curfew.

Preston: Really?

Sydney: I think the idea of me going to stay with Colin really freaked them out.

No shit. It had done the same to me, because how the fuck was I going to see her without him knowing? I set the phone down and scrubbed my head with the towel, drying my hair.

Sydney: They made a lot of concessions. But bad news. I’m not allowed to sleep over at your place, and you’re not allowed over here.

“Like I’d want to go over there anyway,” I grumbled to myself.

Preston: Whatever. Hanging out at my place is better.

Sydney: Agreed.

As I finished drying off, my gaze snagged on my swim trunks that hung on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. I scrolled to my weather app and checked the forecast. It was supposed to be sunny and hot most of next week, and the restaurant was closed on Mondays, so she should be free.

Preston: Want me to pick you up on Monday? We can go swimming, so bring your bikini.

Sydney: I don’t own a bikini.

Preston: Okay. We can skinny dip.

Sydney: LOL. I’ll bring my suit. What time?

We settled on two o’clock, and she offered to make dinner after, which of course I wasn’t going to turn down. The only thing that sucked about it was I’d have to wait two days to see her again.

We were both occupied with work, though. Friday and Saturday nights were her most exhausting, so our text conversation after each of her shifts was short. I was busy on Saturday, too, with a party for a client, held in an upscale club just off Broadway. It was a surprise fortieth birthday party for his wife, and the event went so well, he’d asked to extend the room reservation and the open bar all the way until close.

It had taken some negotiating with the staff, but I’d made it happen, and I’d woken up to an email on Sunday from the client, thanking me for all the extra work. The big tip he’d Venmo-ed me was awesome, too.

It was my last project before Troy’s event on Friday night, and I was glad I could focus solely on that now. I looked at my afternoon off with Sydney as the calm before the storm. A mini vacation.

“I’ve got something for you,” I said when I picked her up.

“Of course you do.” She pretended she wasn’t excited, but I saw the glint in her eyes.

“It’s in the back seat.”

While I drove, she reached back and retrieved the present, setting the gift box wrapped in black paper on her lap. She picked at the corner, peeling up the tape, and took her time opening it like she wanted to drag out the suspense.

“Seriously?”

She looked both surprised and amused as she lifted the two pieces of fabric out of the box. The top of the bikini was navy, while the bottoms were white with navy palm fronds printed on them.

“I think you’ll look hot as fuck in it, but you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” I flashed her a smile. “I told you it’s cool if you want to go naked instead.”

She examined the suit closer, maybe checking the size. I’d had to guess, but I felt confident I’d gotten the right one. “Wouldn’t someone see?”

I’d meant it as a joke because I’d never thought she’d go for it. It was the middle of the day. But . . . “My dad and Cassidy are both at work.” I shifted in my seat, trying not to get too excited about the idea of us both wet and naked. “What do you say? You want to be a bad girl?”

“Would it be my final lesson?” she teased.

I grinned. “Well, technically, we still have two left.”

Her fingers trailed over the edges of the bikini in the box. “Let’s start with me wearing this, and we’ll see how it goes.”

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