12. Cherise #2
We erupted in cheers as the ball smacked the sand, in bounds.
I did a celebratory dance as I pointed at Savannah.
Finally. Our point.
My turn to serve.
I tossed the ball into the air and smacked it hard, sending it flying over the net. Grace jumped and smacked it to Greg as he jumped, muscles flexing, and sent the ball hurtling back to our side.
Then… There was Leo.
He tried. Keyword... tried.
Bless his little heart.
He gave it his all, I’ll give him that. He ran for the ball, missed it entirely, and somehow tripped on air... face planting into the sand with a dramatic oof.
Everyone paused.
“You good, man?” Logan called.
Leo pushed up on his elbows, spitting sand and blinking at the sky.
“I just saw Jesus,” he said hoarsely. “He told me to sit my ass down.”
I couldn’t stop laughing.
He stumbled over to me, dazed and covered in sand.
“It’s not funny. This would be the perfect time to tell everyone I pulled a hamstring and need to sit the rest of the game out.”
“You look like a powdered donut,” I cackled, doubling over, breathless from laughter as Leo shook sand from his hair and glared at me.
“You’re mean.”
“You knew that when you signed the fake boyfriend contract,” I whispered low so no one else could hear.
Leo wiped sweat from his brow, panting as if we’d just run a marathon instead of a game of beach volleyball.
“Regret is a hell of a drug,” he muttered.
“How do you have abs like that and be this out of shape?”
Leo froze, then raised a brow. “You noticed my abs?”
Before I could fire back, the ball came hurtling towards Leo again. I lunged and popped it back over the net seconds before it could whack him square in the face.
“Let’s focus on more important things,” I said, straining to hold back another laugh. “Like you surviving this volleyball match.”
Savannah served again, and Leo tried to return it with some weird underhand motion that sent the ball flying... directly into the ocean.
Groans erupted around us.
Leo jogged after the ball, shoes slapping in wet sand as it bobbed out farther. “You’re welcome! That was a strategic time-out,” he called over his shoulder.
“You better strategize how not to drown,” I hollered back.
He finally caught it, water up to his calves, and raised it triumphantly.
Then he strutted back as if he hadn’t just delayed the game and embarrassed himself in one swift motion.
The rest of the game continued to be intense. We dove, we tripped, we screamed, we laughed, we fell into each other. I may or may not have spiked it as hard as humanly possible directly in Savannah’s vicinity on purpose, a few times. No regrets.
In the end?
They won.
Barely.
Savannah did a stupid little victory twirl.
Leo brushed sand off his chest. “That went… well.”
I grinned. “I think you need a medic.”
“I need a new face.”
“I’m sure Savannah has contacts.” I snickered.
We staggered off the court, both of us covered in a ridiculous layer of sweat, sand, and bruised pride. I grabbed a towel from the rack near the cooler and patted my face.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Grace’s best friend. The infamous Cherise Monet,” a deep, annoyingly familiar voice purred.
I turned to find Eric striding up in designer slides and sunglasses and Milo—Logan's engineer— trailing behind, hands in his pockets and eyes scanning the beach as though he’d rather be anywhere else.
“You’re late.”
“Fashionably,” he said, slipping off his sunglasses.
Eric’s gaze dropped to my legs, then trailed slowly up to my face. “Didn’t know this was the kind of resort where goddesses play volleyball.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Didn’t know this was the kind of resort where trash washed ashore.”
Leo stepped forward. “Everything good here?” he asked flatly, sizing Eric up, voice low with a bit of annoyance in his tone as he slid his oversized 6-foot-tall self between Eric and me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my vagina tingle.
Eric smirked, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “Relax, Romeo. Just saying hi.”
He strolled away, Milo giving a faint nod before following.
I waited a second, then turned to Leo with a smirk. “Look who’s jealous now.”
Leo didn’t miss a beat. “Optics.”
I laughed and passed him a towel.
“Who is that tool anyway?” Leo asked, wiping sweat from his face.
“Oh, just the ass hat who used to be Logan’s brand consultant until he catfished Grace on Logan’s Instagram account.”
Leo’s mouth fell.
“Yeah, I know. He’s lucky it eventually led to Logan and Grace meeting and falling in love, or else I would throat punch him right now for what he did to my girl.”
Leo placed his towel down on the beach chair, his lip quirking.
“You know,” he said, voice low and amused, “I gotta say I’m impressed you didn’t still punch him.”
I patted my face dramatically. “See? Derrick is officially wrong. I can show restraint… when I really put my mind to it.”
Leo stepped closer, his bare chest glistening with sweat, heat radiating off him like a damn furnace.
“Derrick is a dumb ass for letting you go. Don’t change for anyone else but yourself,” he said, voice husky.
“If I’m being honest…” His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. “I love seeing you lose control.”
I swallowed.
Hard.
Then he backed away, that wicked grin spreading across his face. “Last one to the water has to do a chicken dance in front of the entire beach.”
He didn’t wait for my reply… just took off toward the beach, muscles flexing with every stride.
I stared at him, every hormone in my body throwing a rave.
Then I looked down at my swimsuit bottoms and hissed, “Down, Betsy. This is not part of the contract.”
Then I took off in a sprint.