Chapter 13
chapter thirteen
Summer
Ithink my ovulation week must have started early because I cannot peel my eyes away from Dayton. He could sell tickets to women all over the world just to sit and watch him hold the tiny baby girl sleeping, all cuddled up against his chest.
He’s the biggest jerk on this island. He’s a menace.
I try reminding myself of how mean he’s been to me for years, but I fail to tear my eyes away from the bulge of his biceps and the smooth skin of his muscular chest. He’s gotten tanner since the last time I saw him shirtless.
This should be illegal. He shouldn’t be allowed to do this in a public place.
“So glad to have met you girls. Come by for a margarita later,” Alani says.
“We will. It was great to meet you too. And your baby is precious.” I smile at her.
Alani stretches her arms out toward Dayton. He tenderly sets Luna in them.
Oh my gosh. Stop looking!
Seeing Dayton, of all people, gently rocking a baby is doing things to my psyche I don’t like. I’ve kept him in a very clearly labeled box—BIG JERK, STAY AWAY.
Now, I can’t unsee this side of him. It’s like another version of how he was at the birthday party for Amelia, only this is ten times worse. I’ve never been this attracted to a man—ever.
I questioned my sexual orientation after my divorce. Being cheated on obliterated my ability to even feel aroused for months. I finally realized through therapy that I wasn’t asexual or attracted to women. I just needed time to heal that part of myself.
My relationship with Axel was fun at first, but it was never wildly passionate or very sexually charged.
He was the kind of man who wouldn’t initiate sex for weeks at a time.
Once we had it, it was vanilla and a little boring, which I was thankful for.
I thought maybe it meant he wouldn’t cheat on me because he didn’t need sex the way my ex-husband did. Andrew was addicted to it.
After breaking up with Axel, I’ve been hoping there is a happy medium somewhere. I need a man who turns me on and wants me, but he doesn’t act like sex is the foundation of our relationship.
Feeling hot and bothered by Dayton Copeland, of all men, isn’t what I wanted from the universe.
I would prefer this feeling with ANYONE but him.
My arms and hands suddenly feel awkward, hanging by my sides, so I fold them over my chest and follow Sav as she walks down closer to the water. I can feel Dayton’s presence behind me.
“Axel is supposed to be going soon,” she says.
The beach is overcrowded with spectators, but we finally find a spot with a decent view of the stage. I can see Axel way far ahead near the stage.
“Who is Axel hanging out with?” I ask Savannah.
“I don’t know. Some guys who are surfing and performing tomorrow.”
The fact that I don’t know is a sign that the relationship was more dead than I let myself believe.
We mingle through the swimsuit-clad bodies, listening to a few of the songs and clapping and cheering with the crowd.
“When this is over, we’re going out for drinks at Cocktails and Chaos. Do you want to join us, Dayton?” Juniper asks him.
I wish I had told her not to.
Surely, he’ll say no.
“I think I’ll pass. I doubt Summer wants me to crash the party.”
I roll my eyes. “As if you care about what I want.”
He grins, flashing his perfect white teeth at me. “It hurts me that you would say that.”
“Really? Well, in that case …” I turn to the girls. “Let me just reiterate that Dayton does not care about what I want.”
He nods. “She’s right. I guess I’ll be joining you guys.”
Mia leans down to whisper in my ear, “Is it just me, or is he kind of flirting with you?”
“Who?”
Dayton is standing at least ten yards away at the bar, ordering. Cocktails and Chaos is packed because of Marg Fest, but we snagged an incredible spot, looking over the water, right as someone was leaving. Their empty mai tai cups still litter the table.
“Um, that tall guy over at the bar.”
I turn to look, but Dayton is the tallest one by at least five inches.
“What do you mean?” I whisper back, even though there’s no way he can hear us.
“The vibes between you two are thick with tension. It’s giving future hate sex.” She tosses her blond hair over her shoulder.
I gape at her. “You’ve got to be kidding. He’s my stepbrother.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Come on. We both know you’re not technically related. You didn’t grow up together. You met in high school. I swear, he’s flirting with you.”
Savannah pipes up from across the table, “I wish I’d been there to witness your dynamic in high school.”
“It was entertaining, to say the least,” Juniper says.
I lift my eyes to watch him at the bar. A skinny, tan blond girl approaches him. I look away, out toward the breathtaking ocean. The salty breeze brushes over my skin.
“He’s hated me since the day we met. We didn’t see each other for ten years because I refused to visit my mom when he was here.”
Savannah shrugs. “Like I said, I wish I’d been there to witness your original interactions. Let’s look him up on social media.”
He’s talking to the blonde girl and paying. I chew my bottom lip as an uncomfortable feeling curls up in my stomach.
I don’t care who he’s talking to. I’m just concerned she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.
“Is this him?” Sav turns her phone to show me Dayton’s profile. It’s outdated, with the last picture he posted being from his freshman year of college.
I nod. “Yes.”
She taps on the tagged photos to see if anyone has posted something recently about him. She gasps.
“What?”
She taps on the most recently tagged photo of him. My throat constricts when I see why.
“Dude, I literally thought that was you. You have the exact same hair.”
The picture is of Dayton with a woman whose hair is oddly similar to mine—a thick honey blond.
It’s not quite as long as mine, and hers is in perfect curls and not the messy beach waves mine usually is.
Her face is hidden because she’s turned toward him, but he’s looking down at her.
The candid photo was taken in a nice-looking restaurant, with candles and wine on the table they’re sitting at.
He’s in a suit, and she’s wearing a crimson-red dress. My already-tense stomach clenches.
“Who is it?” I lean closer, careful not to touch the phone and accidentally like it.
Mia and Juniper crowd in closer to see the screen.
“Her name is Noelle. The caption says, Memory from two years ago. I miss our wine nights. She tagged him and two other people. It was posted a week ago,” Sav says.
So, Dayton had a girlfriend two years ago. If they’re not still together, why would she post him?
“She’s a model,” Mia muses after clicking on the profile. “You could be twins with that hair.”
“He’s coming back,” I whisper-yell.
Sav exits the app and hides the phone under the table. All the girls look around, attempting to act casual. Right on Dayton’s heels, Axel and his friends are walking up. Dayton sets my and Sav’s drinks in front of us. A waitress is following behind him with the rest.
“Thank you,” I mumble, my mind still reeling about the girl with hair like mine.
It’s just a coincidence.
“Ladies, how are you? Thanks for getting a table.” Axel is grinning widely as he and one of his friends take the bench across from us, next to Mia and Juniper. The other one sits next to Sav, forcing Dayton to sit in the only available space—next to me.
He sits down, but the bench is almost too small for four people. The side of his thigh presses up against mine. I hold my breath, expecting him to pull away, but he doesn’t. My skin tingles at the point of contact.
Stop overanalyzing every little thing he does. It doesn’t mean anything!
“Babe, meet, uh—I mean, Summer. Sorry.” Axel winces. “Meet the guys, Josh and Billy. This is Summer and Savannah. And this here is Summer’s stepbrother, Dayton.”
“Nice to meet you,” Savannah says.
I feel Dayton’s eyes on me before he reaches out a hand to shake Josh’s and Billy’s.
“I’m Mia. This is Juniper.”
Everyone shakes hands and says hello.
“Did y’all break up?” Billy asks Axel, looking at me.
Axel chuckles. “Yeah, we did. It’s all good. We’re staying friends.”
He smiles at me, and I feel a weight lifted when I don’t see a hint of animosity in his gaze.
I smile back. “It was mutual, and no one talked us into it. We both decided it was for the best.”
Dayton straightens beside me.
That’s right; you didn’t influence this decision, buddy.
“Well, in that case, can I buy you a drink, Summer?” Josh leans forward, winking at me.
“Hey now. It might be a little soon for that, okay?” Axel shakes his head. “But you can get me a drink, asshole.”
Josh laughs, standing up. “All right, this one’s on me. Anyone else want anything?”
Axel and Billy both want a beer, so Josh leaves to go order. They have waitresses walking around, taking orders, but when it’s this crowded, it’s faster to wait at the bar.
Axel and Billy are chatting with Sav about the last performance at Marg Fest. I zone them out, my mind wondering about the girl on Dayton’s social media.
I’m trying to think of a way to bring it up without letting him know we stalked him when he suddenly presses his leg up against mine.
My body goes rigid. I reach for my mai tai, taking a sip.
I glance up at him to see if he’s looking at me, but his eyes are on Axel, who is describing how great the waves were this morning and how electric it felt to surf with a few B-list celebrities.
Mia asks him who was there. Juniper and Sav start talking about the best-flavored marg they had all day.
All I can focus on is Dayton’s leg pressed up to mine. I should just pull it away, but then he would realize it was bothering me. I want to appear completely unaffected by him.
I am completely unaffected by him. He’s just a nuisance.
My head clouds when I feel a big hand brush across my thigh and rest on top of it, applying a gentle but firm amount of pressure with his fingertips.
I know it’s him. It has to be his hand, but there’s no way.
My mind must be playing tricks on me. He used to play this game with me in high school.
It was the ‘Are you nervous?’ game, where he’d go higher and higher up my leg until I would jerk away and tell him I was nervous.
No one else is close enough to be doing it right now.
Dayton’s hand is on my thigh.
I don’t move. The pressure of his leg against mine was bad enough, but there’s no possible explanation for why he’s squeezing my thigh like this. My skin is on fire. His hand and leg are both warm, overheating me. I suck down the rest of the mai tai. As if on cue, a waitress approaches the table.
Marina grins at me. I barely manage a forced smile back.
“Can I get you guys anything?”
Josh returns to the table with the beers. Savannah says she wants to order Cal’s famous Sex on the Beach.
“What about you?” Sav asks me.
I nod.
Marina turns to Dayton. “For you?”
“Can I get a Cuba Libre?”
“Sure can. Be right back.” Marina walks away.
He doesn’t release my thigh or give any indication of what’s happening under the table to the rest of the group. I keep thinking Sav is going to see it since she’s on our side of the table, but she’s leaning forward and chatting with the girls, oblivious to how quiet I’m being.
He adds pressure, squeezing the top of my thigh a little tighter, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin on the inner side. I didn’t know thighs could be erogenous zones, but I must be wrong because whatever he’s doing is turning me on.
This is fucked up! What are you doing, letting him touch you like this?
I’m seconds away from brushing him off when it hits me.
He’s messing with me. This is a game to him.
I grit my teeth. It all makes sense now. Dayton knows I broke things off with Axel because he didn’t care about having sex with me, and now he’s trying to confuse me with these suggestive touches that my boyfriend didn’t even care to give me.
I don’t have any idea of what he expects to gain from this stupid little game, but two can play at this. He would know he got to me if I let him see that I’m affected enough to put a stop to it, so I just have to pretend I don’t care.
Thighs are not erogenous. This is not turning me on.
I exhale, steadying myself. I put up with Dayton for two years. I let him get under my skin the entire time. We have a few months left until the house is ready. I can’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing he still affects me.
He doesn’t stop touching me until the end of the night when we all get up to leave. My bikini bottoms are shamefully soaked through.