Page 25 of The Playboy

Except I did understand.

This kitchen—no, our entire home—was the result of three women working different schedules, sharing a small villa that should technically be rented by only one.

But since the moment we’d signed the lease four years ago, the Bray women had been determined to make the seven hundred square feet work for us.

Besides, it was the only place on the South Shore of Kauai that we could afford, and we still struggled at the first of every month to get all our bills paid.

Why did Hawaii have to be so expensive?

As I took my first gulp of water, I heard movement in the living room. A stirring of sheets, followed by tiptoes. I stared at the doorway, preparing myself for which sister was about to walk in, feeling guilty that I’d woken one up since I’d tried so hard to be quiet when I returned from the club. Because the kitchen and bathroom were the only two rooms that were closed off to our living room/shared bedroom, I had to wait until she rounded the corner to see who it was.

The moment the nest of dark brown curls came into view, I took another swig, waiting for the questions to start pouring from Jesse’s mouth. My middle sister was the curious one. Clementine, the eldest, was the motherly type.

Jess eyed me down as I still stood by the sink, and she silently went over to the fridge, pulling out a to-go box. She lifted the lid and popped a cold French fry into her mouth. “How was the club?” Mid-chew, she held the box toward me.

I took two of the fries out of the Styrofoam, the ends already soaked from the blob of ketchup someone had squirted in earlier. “Fun.”

“It was …fun?”

The potato was extremely dry, hardened from the coldness, the center a gritty, gel-like texture, causing me to have to refill my water. “That’s why I go twice a week—to have fun.”

The club wasn’t something we really ever talked about. Even though they both worked late, they were always asleep when I got home, and I left for work before they got up in the morning, so by the time I saw them again, we were discussing something more important.

“I still don’t get why you go.” She wiped a bead of ketchup off her lip. “It makes no sense to me.”

I turned off the faucet and faced her. “What don’t you get?”

“Why you go alone. If you picked a night we were off, we’d go with you. So, why not choose an evening when we could all go?”

I didn’t expect my sisters to understand. They did nothing alone.

They even worked at the same restaurant.

And when I’d chosen to go rogue and gotten a job elsewhere, they had been upset with me.

Even though I was the baby of the family, I was the most independent. I never fit the stereotypical traits of a third child. I acted more like an only child.

And that often, like tonight, drove my sisters wild.

I reached inside the to-go box, this time pulling out a corner of a burger. I peeled the soggy bun off and devoured the meat. “We all have our things, Jess. You surf. Clementine runs. I dance.”

“But the alone part is what bothers me.” When she shook her head, the curls moved into her eyes, and she didn’t bother to tuck them back. The breeze of motion sent me a whiff of salty air, a scent that clung to her, no matter how much she showered. “Clubs are places you go to with other girls. There’s so much to navigate. Drinks—”

“I don’t drink there.”

She bit off the corner of a chicken nugget. “Dancing—”

“I wait for an available stage and don’t get off it until I leave to go home.”

Tonight had been an exception.

Tonight had … broken every rule.

A thought that sent a wave of shivers through my body.

A wave that made it hard to breathe.

A wave that if Jesse looked closely, she would see the goose bumps all over my practically bare body.

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