4. Brent
Brent
We didn’t sit together on the plane, and by the time we’re waiting in line for a taxi at the airport, she’s exchanged numbers with the three people who sat near her.
Friday night drinks at the Hamilton Princess is a must, apparently.
Good thing that’s our hotel and today is Thursday.
We’ve got all day tomorrow to spend in Bermuda, and I’m suddenly wondering why I thought this stranger date thing was a good idea.
What am I going to do with her before the wedding on Saturday?
While I listen to her talk to her newest pals, I realize she hasn’t given me the version of herself she’s offering to other people.
There’s nothing combative or blunt in her exchanges with them.
She’s light and funny, and she practically glows under their adoring attention.
For the first time since she turned up beside my table in the terminal, the complete Posey Jensen package is attractive. Highly attractive.
I must rub her in all the wrong ways.
I have to admit as I size up her willowy frame and wide smile that I’d be okay with rubbing her in all the right ways too.
She might have a point about me leading with my dick.
But if my vow to forget relationships and focus on my training is going to stick, I can’t change my superficial ways.
Until I’m done with my Olympic appearances, I’m married to my sport, and everyone else comes second.
At least Valentina understood she couldn’t and wouldn’t come first.
When it’s our turn to grab a cab, she waves to her newest friends before slipping into the back seat. She lets me and the cab driver get her bag without a second glance. Even that feels contrived for maximum annoyance, as though she realizes the diva behavior will cause me to grit my teeth.
I fold myself into the cab beside her, and she glances in my direction. Probably expecting a comment about her prissy attitude.
As the cab swings away from the curb, I take a look out the back window. “Man, I would have thought you’d want your bag. Do they still call the bomb squad for abandoned stuff at the airport?”
She doesn’t look behind us. “You know, if you want me to play games when Val shows up, you might have to be just a little bit nice to me.” She presents her index and thumb with the tiniest space between them.
“Me? You tricked me into believing you were a guy.”
“You assumed. That’s not on me.”
“But you rode that assumption hard.”
She gives me a once over from head to toe. “I enjoy a good, hard ride.”
Jesus. I’ve met women who were upfront with what they wanted before, but there’s something about Posey’s brand of wickedness that’s landing exactly where she intends. Her outfit and her attitude have me standing at attention. I shift in my seat and break eye contact.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m definitely the type of girl who will blow…your mind.” She stifles a laugh.
This time my answering chuckle is genuine and colored with a hint of embarrassment. The cab driver is listening. The sexual innuendos pile on top of each other with this girl. “There’s a time and place.”
“The time is now. The place is here. Your point?”
I huff out a breath. “You can cut the act. I know this isn’t how you are around other people. I saw you with your seatmates at the airport.”
“This is exactly how I am with people I’m not sure I like.”
“You don’t know me. What’s not to like?” This time I’m the one who drags my gaze from her dangling heel to her wavy hair. “I know you enjoy the look of me.”
“Because I’m not blind.” She crosses her arms. “You’re not what I expected. Too shallow.”
She’s got to be kidding me. “Says the girl who follows my ex for photos of my half-naked body.”
“Sometimes it was more like three quarters. She knew how to work an angle.”
“Posey, you sound insane right now. Do you get that?”
The cab driver eases through the pillars in the circular front entrance and brings the car to a stop. “Hamilton Princess.” He jumps out to retrieve our bags from the trunk.
Behind the car, I take out my wallet and pass him the fare with a substantial tip. A porter offers to take our bags, but both of us have duffels. Without Posey asking, I shift her bag into the same hand as mine. At least she packed light.
At our check-in, I request a switch from a king-size-bed suite to a two-bed one.
The receptionist clicks through and confirms she can make the switch.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Posey is off to the side with both our bags at her feet.
She’s texting someone, and I need to remember to tell her about the social media ban on the wedding.
The whole time I’m answering and asking questions with the receptionist, Posey’s comment about me not being who she expected pierces my consciousness like sharp pinpricks. I’m shallow? In the elevator, she’s quiet as we ride to our floor. Somehow her silence grates on me even more.
“You know,” I say as soon as we’re in the door to our room. “You thought you were spending a weekend with a misogynistic jerk, so the fact that I’m not what you thought I’d be should be an improvement.”
She purses her lips as she riffles through the pamphlets and brochures left on top of the table. “Agreed. It really should be.”
I throw up my hands. “Whatever.” My temptation is to ignore her, but when she goes to the window to stare out at the view of the harbor, I’m enticed by her lonely silhouette. My arm brushes against hers when I sidle next to her.
She glances up at me, and I’m caught off guard when the air in the room electrifies. She might not like me, but she definitely wants me.
“It’s a nice view,” she says.
“I can’t complain.” I scan her face, trying to figure out whether giving into the vibe between us is the right thing to do. She appears to hate me.
“I don’t want you to kiss me,” she murmurs, but her gaze strays to my lips.
“Feels like you do.”
Her head shakes a fraction. “Not until you see me as more than a pair of tits.”
“You have a nice ass, too, if that helps.” We make eye contact, and I’m startled by how deep and rich her brown eyes are. “Is this your criteria for all your flings? Or are you a relationship girl? I’m not cut out for that a second time.”
“You’re not, and neither am I.” A hint of a smile touches her lips.
“So why do you care how I see you?” I tilt her chin with my finger and inch closer to her lips.
“You should value a woman for more than her body pieces.”
“You think it’s possible for me to value you in a weekend?” I raise my eyebrows and withdraw my hand.
“Spend the day with me tomorrow, and I bet you’ll understand my worth by the time we’re sipping Rum Swizzles on the terrace of the hotel.” A sly smile rises.
“I do like a woman with confidence.” That had been what drew me to Valentina in the first place. The woman oozed a don’t mess with me vibe, and she pursued me with relentless determination.
“I’ve got it in spades.” Her phone buzzes on the table. “Is that a yes?”
“You haven’t told anyone you’re with me, have you?
” Despite what I let Valentina do on social media, my natural inclination is toward privacy.
I’d also prefer Val doesn’t find out I brought Posey to the wedding.
If she turns up with her invitation revoked, that’s one thing.
Flaunting my single status is another. Seeing a photo of me or reading a post about the wedding would be enough to cause her to jump on a plane if she hasn’t already.
“Not a soul. Texted my sister and a friend the hotel information just in case you were a psycho murderer.”
I chuckle.
“I’m not a social media maven.” She shrugs. “I read other peoples’ stuff, but I rarely post anything myself.”
I checked her socials on the plane. Lots of photos of Bellerive, a place I’ve never been even though my mother was born there. “There’s a social media ban on the wedding.”
“Your friend thinks he’s a big shot?” Posey smirks.
“He kind of is?” I shrug. “He’s in a movie with Ellie Cooper and Wyatt Burgess that’s coming out next year. His profile is supposed to skyrocket after that. They’re guests at the wedding. Can you be cool with famous people or are you going to be weird?” A bit late to be asking.
When she meets my gaze, her eyes dance with an amusement I don’t understand. “I’ve had lots of practice keeping secrets, and I’m good with famous people. No worries.” She ignores her phone on the table and picks up one of the brochures instead. “Tomorrow? You in or out?”
“Is this a challenge?” A fire lights in me, and I follow her to the table. “You don’t think I’m capable of valuing a woman?”
“I hope you prove me wrong.” Posey rises on her toes, and her lips graze the sensitive skin by my ear. “I’d love to find out whether you’re what I expected in other ways.” Her voice is breathy.
I close my eyes and clench my jaw. It takes everything in me not to pick her up and toss her on the bed. I’d follow her down with my mouth and my hands, and I’d show her that, at least in some ways, I’m better than she expected.
There’s a knock on the door, and I’m grateful for the interruption. “Must be my suit,” I murmur, and I step around her to grab the door.