Chapter 4
chapter four
Summer
“Picture an arrogant, heartless, self-centered lunatic. He hates joy. He hates laughter. He hates fun. He hates sugar. What kind of person hates sugar?”
Savannah and Axel have been listening to me rant for half an hour about my demon stepbrother.
Mr. Akana went on and on about the potential for the house, the building plans, and the dream my mother and Russell had of surprising us with the fully renovated property by the next summer.
Dayton was doing the math in his head the whole time.
He asked to review the financial plan and to meet with the builder.
He’s probably fantasizing about the direct deposit from the sale hitting his accounts and shopping for a new Rolex as we speak.
“I’m sure he’s going to attempt to keep me out of the loop with everything, but the lawyer made it very clear to him that it’s all going to be split fifty-fifty. We have to agree to sell or be forced to in a year.”
Savannah stabs the plastic spoon into her snow cone, lifting red ice to her lips. “So, you could technically enjoy the place for a few months after the renovation is finished before he could force you to sell?”
I nod, taking another bite of my banana snow cone. The bottom is coconut ice cream. Waves crash on the shore at Sunrise Beach Park, where we’ve been all afternoon.
“I mean, how much money are we talking, babe? Are you sure selling now isn’t the right move? You live in California, not here.” Axel’s tanned brow is furrowed.
For some reason, I don’t want to talk numbers with either of them yet.
I’ve never had much money, even when I lived at home with Russell and Mom.
We were always comfortable, but my mom didn’t splurge.
Finding out they had bought the beachfront house in Coconut Beach with cash shocked me.
I hadn’t known they had that kind of money.
They traveled a lot, but my mom was never the type to carry designer handbags or drive a luxury car.
“I don’t really know any specific amounts yet until we talk to the builder and see a financial spreadsheet.”
Axel nods. Savannah is still deep in thought, but she doesn’t voice whatever it is. I exhale, stretching my arms overhead to try and release the tension in my shoulders.
“Whatever. Either way, I’m stuck here, figuring all this out for the time being. I know you guys have to head home tomorrow, so let’s make the best of it tonight!”
The outdoor tiki bar I used to sneak into overlooks the pier. I don’t need a fake ID to get into Cocktails and Chaos anymore, but I still live for the bartender, Cal’s, Sex on the Beach, which is strong as hell.
A storm is brewing in the distant clouds. The three of us take a seat at a table near the railing, where we can see the sun that’s just about to dip down behind the horizon.
A dark-haired waitress approaches the table. “Hello. What can I get for you?”
When I look up at her, both of us break into a grin.
“Marina!”
“Summer! Girl, you look gorgeous!” She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “I heard about your mom. I’m so sorry.”
I nod, pulling back from her, because I don’t want to start crying again if I respond with words.
Part of me wishes I were tucked into bed at home, wallowing in grief and eating buckets of ice cream.
The other part of me needs to be around people, to not be left alone and think about the gaping hole in my life.
“This is my boyfriend, Axel, and my best friend, Savannah.”
They shake hands and say hello to her.
“Nice to meet you. Let me take your order and then that new table’s order over there before we get too caught up with what’s been going on since I last saw you.”
I nod, requesting a Sex on the Beach. Savannah orders the same, and Axel gets a margarita. I turn my face toward the water, still fighting tears that want to spill.
I need a distraction.
As if answering my plea, I hear a commotion from the entrance to the bar.
I turn to see what’s going on, only for my stomach to drop when Dayton’s face comes into view.
He’s dressed down for the first time since we’ve been here in a pale blue tank top and white swim trunks.
The corded muscles in his arm look almost fake.
Maybe he’s on steroids.
“Holy shit,” Savannah murmurs, her eyes on the newcomer.
I clench my teeth.
Marina returns with our drinks, setting them in front of each of us. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even think about how Dayton would be in town too.” She gapes at him, her cheeks turning pink. “Do you two still hate each other’s guts?”
Savannah’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding me. That’s your evil stepbrother?”
Now I really need to get out of here. The old, familiar high-school feeling of all my friends wanting to fuck Dayton is flooding back.
He parks himself at the bar and shakes Cal’s hand.
A guy sitting at the bar moves over to him, clapping him on the shoulder and signaling to Cal to get them a round.
“You must be new around here. Dayton Copeland is a legend on this island. I haven’t seen him in what, ten years? How has he gotten that much hotter?”
I roll my eyes before gulping down half of my drink. “Consider those ten years a blessing. Trust me, Sav, he’s not worth the trouble. He’s a member of the dark realm, a servant of evil.”
Savannah is drooling on the table, unable to peel her eyes away. I snap my fingers in front of her face. She straightens, red staining her cheeks.
“Sorry. I, uh … I hate him a lot. Like, a lot.” She combs her fingers through her copper-red hair, clearly trying to make sure she looks her best in case he glances this way.
I shake my head. “You’re not my best friend anymore.”
“I’m sorry! You could’ve warned me. Damn, I’m only human. Look at those biceps.”
She and Marina both do, along with half the female occupants in the bar. I look over at Axel for support, but he’s busy taking a photo of the sunset for his story. I sigh, draining the rest of the cocktail in one gulp.
Dead mom, evil stepbrother, and headache-inducing inheritance terms sound like just about the best damn excuses to have a few too many drinks tonight.
I’m dancing on a table, six drinks in. I don’t even remember the last time I got drunk enough to curse people’s eyes with my horrendous dance moves on a tabletop, but now is as good of a time as ever. I don’t even live here, and I’m grieving. No one can judge me.
I belt out Taylor Swift lyrics like I’m starring in a concert. Savannah hands me another drink. I accept it gladly, trying to pull her up with me.
“No, you got this, babe! You look great.”
I laugh, shaking my head. The rum in my belly sloshes with each movement. I took my shirt off a while ago, wearing only a triangle bikini top and a flowy skirt. I haven’t seen Axel in ages, but he usually wanders off to talk to strangers when we go out. I like that he doesn’t hover.
I slurp down the mai tai. It’s so good, reminding me of childhood and the years I lived on the island with my mom. The only part I remember that I didn’t love was the evil stepbrother who tried to ruin my life and torture me. My movements slow. I press a hand to my head, swaying on my feet.
“It’s time to get down.” A male voice speaks from my left.
I turn to look at him. Amber eyes glare up at me. His mouth is in a firm, disapproving line.
“You’re not the boss of me, Dayton.” I say his name like it’s a curse.
I take a step back from him. I forget that I’m on a table, and there are plates and cups on it.
I stumble, losing my footing. A warm hand grabs for mine, pulling me to the side.
I try to resist, but either way, I’m going to fall.
I choose to fall toward the muscle, assuming it will be a softer landing than the sand much farther down.
Dayton somehow guides me right into his strong arms. I yelp when he cages me in. The scent of him is distinctly similar to salt water.
“Did you go swimming?”
He grunts a response, carrying me through the crowd of onlookers. My world is spinning, and I can’t tell which direction he’s taking me.
He’s so warm. I thought he’d feel cold, like a vampire.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
He somehow gets me in front of a toilet before the alcohol comes rushing up to the surface, and I puke into the porcelain bowl. I’m too drunk to be mortified that he’s witnessing this. All I can do is retch out my guts and cry.
I’m usually a fun drunk. I hardly ever get this way, but when I’ve had too many drinks, I tend to dance, sing, and talk to strangers. Axel and Savannah always tell me that I’m the life of the party.
“I can’t believe she’s gone. I just can’t believe it.” I sob into the toilet.
This must be what rock bottom feels like.
He pulls a stray piece of hair hanging in front of my face back. He doesn’t speak. My filter is completely gone, shattered, along with my heart.
“You know she always told me I judged you too harshly. That I should be thankful to finally have a sibling. I told her I didn’t start this. It was you. You started this between us. You decided we could never be friends.”
He still doesn’t answer. I cry harder and puke again. The sour smell of rum and coconut shrimp makes my stomach churn.
“I can’t do this, Dayton. I can’t do this life with no family at all. I hate everything, and I fucking hate how much you hate me.”
He gets on the ground beside me, crouching his big body down on the gross bar floor. He uses a wad of toilet paper to dry off my mouth. I stare at his perfect face, the cut jawline and the pink lips. He’s frowning, clearly disgusted by me.
“Why do you hate me, Dayton? Why?”
He finishes cleaning up around my mouth, tosses the toilet paper into the bowl, and flushes it down.
“You’re thinking too hard about it, Cupcake.” His voice doesn’t sound hateful at all. His eyes are soft and red-rimmed.
Is he finally going to cry?
A banging sound on the restroom door startles me. Dayton looks over me one more time before standing up and helping me to my feet. He unlocks the dead bolt and pushes the door open.
Savannah is standing there, eyes wide with concern. “Is she okay?” she asks.
Dayton steps out. I sway behind him. I’m still drunk, but emptying my stomach helped with the nausea. I’m sure my mascara is a mess after the sobbing and vomiting.
“I wanna go home.” My voice is small and scratchy.
She nods. “I’ll find Axel, and we can go.”
She grabs my hand, leading me through the bar crowd. We make a full circle and still don’t find my boyfriend. I’m beginning to feel embarrassed when we start looping around a second time. I feel Dayton’s presence trailing behind us.
“I just saw him over here five minutes ago. He can’t be far,” she says.
I take a seat at an open barstool. “My feet are killing me,” I tell her.
She nods. “Just chill here. I’ll go look in the men’s bathroom.”
She disappears. I fold my arms on the bar, resting my forehead down and closing my eyes. The next thing I know, Savannah is tapping my shoulder.
“Come on. Let’s go. I got us an Uber.”
“Where’s Axel?” I climb down off the stool. My limbs feel like Jell-O.
“He’s gonna come later.”
“What? Why?”
“Dayton said he’d bring him.”
I turn to look back. I don’t see either of them. The world is still spinning, and I have no choice but to follow her and wonder why on earth he’s being so nice tonight. It’s raining steadily, and the water makes me feel marginally better. Water always calms me.
It has to be guilt. He’s finally feeling bad about my mom dying and forcing me to sell her dream house.
The Uber is waiting for us when we get out to the parking lot. I climb in behind Savannah. The drive back to the cheap hotel pitches my stomach around like waves in a tropical storm.
I think I’m going to vomit three different times, but the thought of the two-hundred-dollar cleaning fee gives me Herculean strength to hold it in.
Once we get to the hotel and make it up to the room, I immediately jump in the shower.
I take advantage of the moment alone, crying softly and watching all my sorrows swirl down the drain.
I’m so sick of crying.
I towel-dry myself off and brush my teeth before stepping out into the room with the towel wrapped around myself. A knock sounds at the door. Savannah goes over to open it, gasping at whoever is there.
My eyes widen when I see Dayton carrying a very drunk Axel inside and depositing him roughly onto the floor despite the two empty queen beds. Axel groans, twisting over onto his side. They’re both soaked from the rain.
“Hey! Was that really necessary?” I lean down to check on my boyfriend, but he’s passed out. I stand up, whirling toward Dayton. “What was that for?”
He turns back, sneering down at me. “Just returning him for you, as promised.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “You could have hurt him.”
He pops his knuckles. “Now, there’s an idea.”
My mouth drops open. “What is your problem? Nobody forced you to bring him back!”
“You’re right; nobody forced me to do it. Guess I just felt like being a nice guy tonight.” His eyes are bright with rage.
We’re both pissed off, ready to take out our anger and grief on our favorite punching bags—each other.
“You’re an asshole,” I hiss. “And I hate you.”
He looks down at me with a satirical grin, leaning forward until he invades my space. “Tell me something I don’t know, Cupcake.”
He turns to walk toward the door. My body is vibrating with rage. I look around for something to throw at him.
“I want to live in the studio during the remodel,” I hear myself blurt out.
Dammit. Never let him see your cards, idiot! You know better than that.
Dayton stops. He doesn’t move a muscle for a full three seconds before he slowly begins to turn back to face me. His eyes have darkened.
Finally, he speaks through clenched teeth. “Only you can live there. Not him.”
I’m shocked to hear even a shred of agreement on something from him. Up until this point, he’s refused to agree to anything.
He must have reviewed the finances and decided to remodel first. He would only agree to this for his own selfish gain.
I feel myself nod. “Fine.”
He turns around and storms out. The hotel door slams shut behind him.