Chapter 17 Emmett
Emmett
“Hey, wait,” I jump to my feet, catching sight of Georgia, toting her suitcases behind her. “Where are you going?”
“Why are you awake?” She shakes her head at me, answering my question with another question.
“I always like to catch the sunrise,” I say quickly, reaching out and grabbing Georgia’s wrist before she can step off the back of the yacht. “Why are you trying to slip out of here? Is this because of the dinner last night? Because you stormed in here and then just disappeared—”
She glares up at me. “Yeah, because my dad thinks I’m a slut, just using Brody so that I can level up in the world. It’s fucking disgusting. That’s not who I am, and I can’t have him thinking that.”
I furrow my brow. “You shouldn’t let the asshole get to you like that. Your dad has always been a hothead. He probably just needs time to come around.”
“So you want me to, what, exactly?” She drops her bag with a thud, her eyes rimmed with tears. “Wait it out? Because the way I see it, Brody tried everything last night to make him understand, but within five minutes, he was throwing insults at me and making me feel stupid!”
Anger boils in my chest—at both Robert and Georgia. “Right, okay. So, you’re just going to bend to daddy and slip right out of here without even telling us? That doesn’t seem very mature.”
“Well, first off, I wrote you a letter, and second, I’m not rich and well-off like you,” she spits back, glaring up at me as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“If my dad cuts me off… if this doesn’t work out…
I could,” she pauses before completely breaking down into tears.
“I could lose everything. I could end up worse off than I ever was before.”
“I won’t let that happen, no matter what happens.” I pull her into my arms, and she gives in, burying her face in my chest. Her body racks with a sob, and she clings to me. I hold her tightly, just as the door from the main lounge opens up.
Miles appears at the threshold, concern written all over his face. He eyes the suitcases and then looks back up at me. I give him a shrug, and he nods, disappearing back inside the lounge.
I hold Georgia for a little longer, and soon, Brody is with Miles on the deck as well. He looks like he just woke up, his hair a total mess.
“Why don’t we go inside and talk?” I offer gently, kissing the top of Georgia’s head as her crying begin to diminish to just sniffles. “I think we have some things we need to discuss.”
“Okay,” she clings to me as I walk with her back toward the lounge.
Miles jumps into action, rushing past us to pick up the luggage and carry it back as I guide her into the main area. I lead her to the couch and then take a seat, curling her up in my arms.
“It’s okay, my sweet little peach.” I lift her chin and then kiss her tear-stained cheeks. “We’re going to figure this out—the four of us.”
“We will,” Brody echoes my sentiment. “Last night, Robert took some low blows, and he’s damn lucky I left without leaving a fucking dent in his face.”
Georgia continues to sniffle, but then shifts on my lap, directing her attention to Brody and Miles, who are hovering on the other side of the coffee table. “But he thinks I’m a gold-digging slut.”
“Fuck him,” I say, kissing her once more. “We know what you are, and that’s what matters. He’s making knee-jerk reactions to something that he doesn’t understand.”
She shakes her head. “But like I said, I could lose everything.”
“I know,” Miles steps forward and then kneels in front of her. “I see how you feel that way, but you have to know that we’ll never let that happen to you.”
“Even if you choose to walk away from this,” I add. “We’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Or if she chooses just one of us,” Miles adds. “That could happen.”
Georgia lets out a long sigh, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. I can’t imagine having one of you without the others.”
Brody nods. “Then we’ll take it day by day from here. We’ll just see where it goes.”
“Agreed.” Miles chimes in.
“I’m in.” I kiss her once more, barely able to keep my hands off her.
“Now let’s relax and have a good day. We’ll have some drinks, listen to some music, get some time in the water.
We’re definitely not going to let Robert ruin what we’ve got going here.
” I tip Georgia’s chin back to look up at me. “How does that sound, my little peach?”
“I think that sounds perfect,” she whispers. I pull her lips to mine, kissing her deeply. I force myself to break apart, knowing damn well I have an audience. “Let’s go have some breakfast and then we’re going to have a party.”
Music thumps through the speakers as Miles lies on a lounge chair, sipping on Sangria. I step out and strip my shirt off over my head, letting the warmth of the sun warm my skin.
I catch Georgia sidling out in a pale blue bikini, sunglasses perched in her hair. Some of the previous night’s ache still lingers in her eyes, but the sunlight makes her squint and smile. She settles on the lounger next to Miles, pulling her knees up and stretching her arms behind her.
“I can’t believe you made sangria,” she laughs, eyeing the glass he pours for her.
“I googled it,” Miles replies, handing it over. “Just for you. I’ve never been much of a drinker.”
She tastes it and gives him a huge smile. “It’s kind of amazing we had all the ingredients.”
I stretch my arms above my head and then pour myself a glass, watching Georgia while I do. She’s doing the thing where she pretends to be fine, and although most people would buy it, I can see right through it.
But I have to admit, I admire her for it.
She giggles at something Miles says and then leans back. The yacht rocks gently, and the wind carries a heat that beads sweat along my chest, but I’m entirely fixated on how Georgia makes just existing look so goddamn sexy. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so drawn to her, from the very first day.
Brody brings out a fruit tray with pineapple and strawberries and mango and passes it around. Georgia picks up a berry with her fingers. There’s nothing performative about the way she pops it into her mouth and chews.
But I’m still entirely entranced by her every move.
Georgia must sense my eyes on her, because she flicks a glance at me. “You’re staring, Emmett,” she teases with a half-grin, like she’s not at all bothered by it.
I don’t look away. “Of course I am,” I say. “How can I not?”
Miles makes a noise, something between a laugh and a scoff, and says into his glass, “Jesus, get a room, you two.”
Georgia’s eyes stay focused on me, a giggle slipping through. She sits up, removes her sunglasses, and gives me a challenging look. “I’ll race you to the water.”
I let my gaze linger on her just long enough to prove I’m one-hundred percent up for the challenge, then nod at the water. “First one in the water? Winner gets…” I hesitate, then smirk. “Dealer’s choice.”
Brody, from the other side of the table, rolls his eyes. “Just don’t kill yourselves, you idiots.” But he’s already up and following, a competitive streak flickering to life in a matter of seconds.
Georgia’s off the chair in a flash, bare feet slapping the deck as she sprints for the stern, shrieking when I catch up behind her and grab at her waist. I almost lose my own footing when she pivots and shoves me into the railing, a playful, brutal little jab that nearly knocks the wind out of me.
“Oh, you’re going down now,” I promise, trying to recover but laughing as I breathe her scent in.
She hooks a hand through the metal as she rounds the corner to the swim deck, and I only catch her elbow as she starts to leap into the sea.
She launches herself off the deck, a clean, gorgeous dive, her toes pointed, and arms stretched long. I’m so taken with it that I nearly miss my own takeoff, but then I’m airborne too, going for full Olympic spectacle, except…
I over-rotate, and slap down in a bellyflop so spectacular that the world goes white for a second.
The water stings like a motherfucker and I surface, sputtering and blinking salt out of my eyes.
Georgia’s already treading water a few feet away, laughing so hard she might go under.
I float, gasping, but mostly in awe of the sound—her laughter, sharp and bright, a perfect antidote to every heavy thing that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“You looked like a manatee,” she says, still cackling.
Brody stands at the edge of the deck, gripping his side in laughter. “Holy fucking hell, man. That was the most ungraceful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Clearly, that was not my plan,” I pant, treading water around me.
Georgia swims to me, wrapping her hands around my neck. “You just needed to cool off,” she says, her breath warm and fizzy against my cheek. “You’re always running so hot, Emmett.”
With her lips this close, I can’t help myself.
I kiss her, softly at first, then with the heat that’s always waiting to come out whenever I touch her.
The saltwater on our skin makes her taste even sweeter.
She kisses me back, then shoves me under, not letting me get a big breath, so I have to scramble up, sputtering and laughing like a damn idiot.
“I win.” She kisses my cheek and then swims for the boat ladder.
She climbs out ahead of me, water streaming off her body in little rivers. Brody helps her up, and she’s grinning at him, almost daring him to push her back in. Instead, he wraps her in a towel, pushing her wet hair out of her face.
“Next time, warn a guy before you break the world record for cannonballs,” Brody tells the two of us, but his hand lingers on her face. He leans in to kiss her.
And she stiffens.
I watch the exchange carefully. They must have some shit to work out.
Brody pulls back a fraction, reading Georgia’s face. She leans into his hand, her expression softening, but the kiss she gives is more closed-lipped, almost cautious.
I get it though. There’s a hell of a lot to process when your dad calls you a whore, and the guy you want is best friends with him. That’s some real fuckery.
Still, she doesn’t shy away. She lets Brody wrap her up in a towel and kisses his neck, and when Miles appears, still nursing his sangria, she laughs and pulls him into the circle. The four of us are huddled on the deck, dripping water everywhere.
“So, who won?” Miles chuckles as his eyes bounce between the three of us. “Because my bet was on Georgia.”
“Then someone owes you money,” I chuckle. “Because the race when all kinds of sideways, and then,” I gesture to my still-red abdomen, “I clearly did not stick my landing.”
“That’s very true,” Georgia says, flicking water off her arms. “But also, if it were a contest in pure, unfiltered enthusiasm, you would’ve beat me.
” She’s smiling at Miles, and the way her eyes bounce between all three of us, I’m suddenly, acutely aware that this is a wild thing we have going here.
It really is a miracle none of us has punched each other in the mouth.
Especially Brody.
But even more concerning is the fantasy starting to fill my head, as Miles starts toweling off her legs. I imagine him working his way upward, tugging at those pretty blue bikini bottoms and exposing her pussy. He’d lean in and get a taste, while Brody took her lips with his.
Maybe we could all share her at once.
My cock jumps to attention, even as my rational brain tries to short-circuit. I can’t imagine Brody allowing us to do such a thing, and honestly, I’m not so certain about Miles either. Maybe I’m the only one willing to explore those ideas. Maybe I’m the only one who wants to.
I guess I’ll just have to wait and see, but I do know one thing.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to stop thinking about this now.