8. Brent
Brent
When we get to the terrace for drinks, there’s a buzz circulating through the crowd. After Posey and I grab rum swizzles, we step down into the crowd near the waist-high white wall meant to ward off the harbor beyond. Lights from across the inlet are barely visible as dusk approaches.
Beside Trevor and his fiancée, Imani, are Wyatt Burgess and Ellie Cooper.
The two of them ooze Hollywood glamor despite the fact they have a house on the island.
Wyatt’s in what must be a custom-made suit, which emphasizes his tall, broad frame.
His black hair is a stark contrast to his bright blue-green eyes.
Where he’s sharp edges, Ellie is rounded corners in a flowing floral dress that screams money.
Her hair is in loose waves that fit the beachy island vibe.
While I don’t have all the details on the movie they’re in together—a thriller of some sort—it’s hard to believe being so close to so much star power won’t seep into Trevor too.
They’re both Oscar nominated, and Wyatt actually won a few years ago.
Trevor classes working with them as his big break, and I can appreciate those stakes.
As we approach, I lean toward Posey. “Be cool.”
“As cool as ice,” Posey says, and when she glances up at me, she winks.
This girl, man. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun with a member of the opposite sex.
We spent the entire day laughing and one-upping each other with sexual innuendoes.
The tightness in my pants only eased long enough for another sexually tense conversation.
She hasn’t even touched me, and I’ve got blue balls.
Her lack of filter makes me slightly terrified for her to meet any of my friends, and especially the two celebrities beside Trevor. Bringing an unknown woman to his wedding who embarrassed him would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Surely, she’ll understand what’s appropriate?
When we get to them, Wyatt glances in our direction and does a double take.
“Posey Jensen?” he says before Trevor has a chance to introduce either of us. “Aren’t you on the wrong island paradise?”
Beside me, Posey beams. “Did Haven and Cooper come? Or did you leave them at the house?” She pretends to search for them.
Wyatt chuckles, and he nudges Ellie, who is speaking to someone on her other side. When she spots Posey, her face lights up with recognition.
“So good to see you,” Ellie says, and she leans forward to envelop Posey in a half-hug.
“Uh,” I say, completely caught on the back foot.
“You all know each other?” Trevor asks. “I haven’t even met Brent’s date.”
My chuckle is unsteady. How the hell does Posey know Wyatt Burgess and Ellie Cooper?
“We go way back.” Ellie’s broad grin is infectious. “Wyatt shot a movie in Tucker’s Town a long, long time ago, and he’s been invited to King George’s birthday party every year since. Last year, Posey graciously amused Haven and Cooper. Which is no mean feat—a teenager and a toddler.”
“You know the king of Bellerive?” The words come out slow, and I probably sound like an idiot. She’s my date, and I don’t have a fucking clue.
Wyatt’s gaze zips between me and Posey. “Her mother has been the king’s secretary for years, and did I hear your sister just assumed the position?”
“Yeah,” Posey says, and there’s a hint of pink in her cheeks. “She’s training right now to fill the gap until they’ve selected someone else. Mother was ready to retire.”
“Tell Julia and your mother I said congratulations.” Then he turns to me, sizing me up. “And you must be Brent Faulkner.” Wyatt is sweeping Trevor’s job aside one introduction at a time. He extends his hand. “Ellie and I watched a few of your Olympic races at home earlier. Amazing stuff.”
Always a bit surreal to realize people who are a thousand times more famous than me have taken the time to watch me race. I accept his handshake. “Thanks,” I say, and I sneak a peek at Posey, who is glowing as though my accomplishment is her own. She’s a whole new level of adorable.
Posey drags her hand across my waist while she steps around me to get closer to Ellie.
Her dress swirls around her thighs, and my mind drifts to what it’ll be like later to draw the dress up her legs, run my hands along her bare skin.
I shift on my feet, trying to subtly adjust myself.
I’ve been attracted to women before, but never quite like this.
Ellie and Posey have fallen into an animated conversation. Stunning to realize how little Posey told me about herself.
Trevor appears beside me, and he taps his glass to mine. “Seems like you’ve dug up a winner.”
“And I didn’t even know it,” I say.
Except I did, didn’t I? All day, she’s amazed me.
She hasn’t name-checked any of the royals, and she’s had many opportunities.
My “be cool” and “can you handle famous people” comments must have had her in internal stitches.
Now that I think about it, was the Nick she mentioned earlier Prince Nicholas?
I’m such an idiot. Why haven’t I asked her any questions? She’s pried out my life story.
“She’s slotted herself in,” Trevor says. “She’s even got Imani talking, and my fiancée is shyer than most.”
Sure enough, when I glance at Posey, she’s facilitating some sort of conversation between Ellie, Imani, and four other women. A marvel.
“She’s an extreme extrovert,” I say.
“Not so extreme,” Trevor says with the hint of a smile. “She’s fully dressed.”
“I didn’t say exhibitionist.” Truthfully, she could be that too. She appears to have no barriers, but now I’m wondering if that’s a distraction to keep people from really knowing her.
Other people appear to shake Trevor’s hand and congratulate him on his wedding while passing by.
The interactions feel a little like they’re trying to drink in Ellie and Wyatt’s aura.
I’m familiar with that sort of stargazing, but it must be surreal to experience it everywhere.
Most of the time, I’m only recognized in swimming circles.
“What happened to Val?” Trevor asks once we’re alone again.
“We broke up.”
“Again?”
“This time, it’s going to stick.”
Trevor observes Posey with me. “I hope it does stick. This girl suits you.” He tips his glass in Posey’s direction.
“With Val, you were always tense. Tight. As though the two of you were one wrong word away from World War III. Watching you walk over here from the drinks tent, you were loose. Light.”
“Meeting someone new is easy. No baggage.” I shrug off his observation as though it didn’t cause warmth to spread across my chest.
“Meeting someone new is hard. All that negotiating to figure out whether your true self is compatible with their true self. How often do you sink into a connection like it’s always existed?”
Daily, for Posey. I’m convinced she’s never met a stranger.
The shopkeeper, the guy at the pizza place, the attendant at the lighthouse, she charmed them all.
The ease I’ve experienced around her is a testament to how good she is at networking, and it’s got nothing to do with some airy-fairy connection.
“Yeah, I can’t do another relationship,” I say. “I have two more Olympic appearances if I can stay healthy, keep improving. Six years is a long time for anyone to wait to be put first.”
Trevor sips his drink and surveys the crowd. “Same as anyone else seeking a work-life balance. Some aspects of life are glass. Commitments that cannot be broken. Other aspects of life are rubber. You can drop them, and they’ll bounce back.”
The ocean breeze catches a wisp of Posey’s hair, and it whips across her face. When she tucks it behind her ear, she catches me staring at her. Her smile widens, and she winks.
“You get too many glass balls, and you’re bound to break one,” I say.
“True,” Trevor says. “But it doesn’t mean you can only have one. Swimming isn’t going to fulfill you forever.” He waves his hand. “This is me being happy and in love and trying to talk everyone else into being happy and in love.”
“How’d you know?” I stir my swizzle with my straw.
“That Imani was the one?” Trevor frowns. “All I got is clichés, man. The reason no one can ever tell you how they know is because it’s an intangible. There’s just something right about the other person. They fit in a way no one else ever has, in a way you can’t imagine anyone else ever fitting.”
I’m certainly keen to see which parts of me fit with Posey, but that’s not some sort of rightness, that’s just sexual attraction. She’s gorgeous, and I’ve got eyes in my head.
“How’d you two meet, anyway? Didn’t seem like you realized she was royal adjacent.”
“Campus chat server,” I admit. “I was looking for a buffer in case Val shows up.”
“Val was your guest,” Trevor says. “I can’t see her crashing the wedding.”
“One of the few things I can say I genuinely admire about Val is her persistence.” I sip my swizzle. “When she wants something, she doesn’t let you or me or anyone else get in her way. She’ll trample the lot of us.”
“Trust you to admire someone who annihilates everyone else.”
Posey extracts herself from the group of women who have gravitated to her. As she picks her way through the crowd, there’s a tingle of anticipation in my stomach.
“You’ll be happy to hear I’m learning to admire a few new qualities,” I say just as Posey reaches us.
She gives Trevor her winning smile and extends her hand. “In all the catching up earlier, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. Though I’ve met your soon-to-be wife, and she’s a riot.” Her glass is empty, and I take it from her. “I’m Posey.”
“Trevor.” He clasps her hand.
While they strike up a conversation, I go to the bar to get us more drinks.
When I return, Posey loops me into the conversation they’re having about my high school years with Trev.
For the rest of the evening, Posey wanders from my side and into different groups of people.
She weaves herself effortlessly into my friends, Trev’s family, Imani’s family, and his work colleagues.
At last call, most of the wedding guests take their leave, citing their need for rest before tomorrow night’s party. As the dust clears from people exiting the Hamilton Princess or going to their rooms, I spot Posey by the harbor staring out.
“Make you miss home?” I ask when I sidle up next to her.
She releases a deep sigh. “Yeah, kinda.”
“Back to our room, or have you got other plans?”
She leans against the low wall when she rotates to face me. “You’re in the wedding party tomorrow, so I shouldn’t tire you out too much.” She snags the edge of my suit jacket, but she doesn’t close the distance between us.
I step between her feet and stare down at her. Her brown eyes, which have sparkled with mischief all day, look soulful in the dim light cast by the hotel. “I’m not too tired yet,” I say.
Her lips twitch, and she cocks her head. “No?” She straightens, and we’re so close that rum and pineapple juice lingers in the air between us.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, and I ease the strands of her hair caught by the wind back behind her ear.
“Oh, Brent,” she murmurs. “You disappoint me.”
“I value you,” I try.
A wide grin spreads across her face, but it’s followed by a tiny headshake. “No.”
Her insistence on something real causes a twinge of discomfort to lodge in my stomach, but I brush it aside. I suspect everyone values Posey for the easy reason—she can work a crowd like no one I’ve ever met. She doesn’t want the easy answer, and it’s not the one I want to give.
“Your scooter skills are unparalleled,” I say, and I use the voice we’ve been teasing each other with all day. Husky, turned on, as though I can’t wait to rip her clothes off.
“That’s why you value me?” She lets out a giggle.
“I think you’re underestimating how much I enjoy being alive.” I scan her amused face. “How much I enjoy feeling alive with you.” My stomach flips at how honest my admission is.
Surprise enters her dark eyes, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “This isn’t...” She takes a deep breath. “Whatever happens this weekend between us ends on Monday. No need for you to get the wrong idea.”
Instead of letting her obvious unease bother me, I loop a strand of her long hair around my finger. “I don’t form romantic attachments easily. No need to assume that’ll change.”
“Ground rules.” She gives me a sly smile, and she runs her fingertip along my chin. “This ends Monday. No romantic attachments. Anything else is fair game.”
I slide my hand into her hair. “We’ve got a deal.” Then I dip down and capture her lips with mine.