28. Fallon
Chapter twenty-eight
Fallon
The first thing I do when we land is text my parents, Corbin, Dreya, and Jeb—separately, of course. I let them know my flight landed, although I suspect some of them were already tracking it.
“You ready for ten days of fun in the sun?” Shay asks, hyping us both up. “Minus a few days of work and one day of crying, I think this will be a fun trip!”
As much as I’m excited for a getaway with my best friend, in the back of my mind, I know it’s five days until my former wedding date. I should be in Saritza Valley, Montana, right now, annoying the shit out of the venue’s event planner and ensuring everything is on track for the big day. Rhett and I decided pretty early on to have a destination wedding. We picked Montana even though neither of us had been. Still haven’t been.
It was going to be a simple wedding—forty guests, with the ceremony overlooking mountains. The guests would have spent the weekend in the lodge. It was a package deal—the ranch provided almost everything. Rhett and I had paid the deposit but never even got as far as picking out the flowers or choosing one of the three catering options that Grange Ranch had to offer.
We never talked about it, but he would’ve let me choose, and I would’ve picked light pink with coral accents and lots of greenery, as well as the steak and cake option.
“Yeah, I’m ready for a vacation,” I muster the energy to say. To be honest, though, part of me would rather be home right now, where I feel protected and safe.
Nose pushed to the window, I stare at the expansive resort as it comes into view. Passing a conglomeration of tennis courts and multiple parking lots, the driver circles the U-shaped entrance before dropping us off.
Yes, I looked at the Indigo Reef Grande Resort and Villas at Grace Bay’s website. No, the professional and highly curated pictures on the website don’t do any justice when it comes to how beautiful and grand this place is. Marble flooring, palm trees everywhere, and staff carrying our bags to the luggage racks on the backs of golf carts before we can turn to say thank-you.
Expedited check-in, thanks to Shay’s employer, Highwater Market International, aka Steiner Cups’s parent company. The golf carts take us, separately, to the fifth villa and the one closest to the bay.
“Tell me how you won this trip again?” I ask as soon as Shay’s cart driver pulls up next to mine.
“I’m one of the best at my job,” she says proudly, like that clears up my confusion. “And we’re collabing with a few brands here this week. Lots of meetings, some awards, and an over-the-top marketing photo shoot once the details have been worked out.
“Rooms 401 and 403,” the man driving Shay’s cart says to a new man, one who appeared out of thin air.
“Thanks, Mig.” The new man shifts his attention to Shay and me. “I’ll grab your bags and meet you there.”
“Tips are already included,” Shay whispers when she sees me digging through my bag on our way to the elevator. She reads the check-in information, which has our room numbers and an itinerary for Steiner employees for tomorrow. “Looks like we’re in adjoining rooms. That’s perf.”
Yes, it is perfect, considering Shay snores like a beast captured by a dragon.
Even though we’ve been friends for a long time, the last time Shay and I vacationed together, I almost resorted to punching her. She kicks, groans, and talks in her sleep—loudly. Practically puts on a one-woman play.
I thrive on a good night’s sleep, so I brought noise-canceling headphones just in case.
“I’m going to relax for like thirty minutes and get dressed for the pool. Sound good to you?” I ask Shay before entering my room.
“Yes, I’m going down the hall to say hi to one of my coworkers, so I’ll knock when I’m ready.”
In my room, I open the blinds and walk onto the balcony to see what kind of view I have for the next ten days. The breeze and the sound of the waves greet me pleasantly. The sun is still high in the sky, the clear water in the pool sparkles, the waves of the ocean slowly tumble toward the shore, and people-watching from the balcony will be supreme… but I think I like the familiar view of the Chetta a little bit more.
Shay knocks on my door forty minutes later. Dressed in a red bathing suit with a see-through white sarong, she looks hot as shit. My black-and-gold one-piece looks like a trash bag next to her. I look like I’m about to play water polo while she dances in a music video.
“You look hot,” I say as she spins, “and very cheeky.”
“You look hot, too, Fal. I’m guessing you aren’t looking for any guys to hook up with while we’re here, but if you change your mind, I won’t tell anyone. If not, feel free to be my wing-woman. I want to get someone’s dick wet at least twice this week—preferably not one of my coworkers—although that’s not totally out of the question.” We walk down the hall to the elevator, and I roll my eyes. “Some hot island guy or a random Italian Stallion would be wonderful.”
Hooking up with a random man sounds enticing as hell… if I were Shay. Nothing I want this week, let me make that totally clear. I’ll live vicariously through Shay’s wet vagina.
As soon as we find two lounge chairs with a little table between the two and a great view of the pool, my phone buzzes. I’ve changed the notification settings for every social media and email account so I won’t be constantly distracted by random shit. The only ones I kept were for texts and phone calls.
Jeb baker
Hey, how’s the resort?
Great, we just got down to the pool.
I send a picture of my current view of the pool, with the villa behind it to the right side and the ocean to the left.