Chapter 4
Brody
The Joshua tree in my image is too washed out. I adjust the settings with my track pad, moving them this way and that.
The tree clarifies, the bark coming into stark relief.
Much better.
It’s time-consuming, editing photos. It’s not like what people do with filters. Click a button and get some hypersaturated or strangely monotone look. I’ve adjusted about ten different aspects—editing, tweaking, creating the perfect image out of an imperfect photograph.
I stretch, roll my shoulders. Heath is still in the hot tub. Maybe I should join him, let the hot water loosen my muscles.
I blink and look around the room. I’ve always liked this place. Three large love seats surround a giant coffee table, perfect for family games or, right now, for my photo editing laptop. A couple of armchairs rest in front of an ottoman.
A purple bag catches my eye, half-hidden by the ottoman. It must be one of Violet’s.
I’ll take it to her. Yeah, it’s an excuse to see her, talk to her. She can’t hide from us forever, can she? I don’t think she wants to.
That view of her silhouette…it made me see her in a whole new light. She’s my friend’s kid, but she’s an adult. And she’s so fucking hot and sweet. She reminds me of those cinnamon jawbreakers I had as a teenager. Burning until you got past the hard coating, and then sugar all the way through.
I grab the bag’s handle.
The zipper comes undone and the whole fucking thing spills open with a massive clatter.
I couldn’t ignore the contents if I wanted to.
Fuzzy handcuffs—the cheap kind from novelty stores.
Six different vibrators—all in their original packaging.
A red and green glass dildo, a jeweled butt plug shaped like a Christmas tree.
Are those nipple clamps? With little jingle bells attached to them?
What is this girl up to? Is she opening up a holiday sex shop?
Hurried footsteps sound on the stairs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I can’t keep the laughter out of my voice. “I was just going to bring your bag up to you, but it…”
She runs to me, her fluffy socks skidding on the wood floor. “I—”
I wait. Her face is so pink, it looks painful.
Finally she blurts, “Pretend you didn’t see it.”
“Sweetheart, I can’t pretend I—” My words dry up. She’s mortified. If I tease her, she’s going to run. I gather up the items. “Of course. This never happened. I’ll help put away your…uh…crafting supplies.”
“Thanks so much.” Her voice is a raspy whisper. She doesn’t meet my eyes.
As soon as the sex toys are all put away, she gathers the bag to her chest and runs back upstairs.
I watch her go, my dick twitching in interest.
Well, well, well. My best friend’s daughter is kinky as fuck.
* * *
Violet
I have to go. I have to leave.
But where?
I can’t go back to my apartment—Mikayla’s doing her own thing with her boyfriend.
A hotel. Those exist. I have enough in my checking account for a few nights.
I turn on my phone, ready to search for the nearest hotel. An alert flashes across the screen.
Severe storm warning. Hazardous driving conditions. Please remain in your homes and shelter in place.
This—no. It must be false. A prank? Who would pull such a prank?
I sink to the floor, cross-legged, gripping my phone.
Brody, one of my teen crushes, saw my bag of sex toys spill out in front of him. He touched my dildos and vibrators, shoving them back into the bag.
With his big, strong, capable hands, he helped pack up my humiliation.
He didn’t make jokes. I could tell he wanted to. He’s always been the funny one. But he bit back every zinger just now, as he put my “crafting supplies” away.
I rush to the window to see if he’s gone to tell Heath everything that happened. I imagine the two of them down there, laughing uproariously about what Brody saw fall out of my bag.
But…nothing. Heath is still in the hot tub. His head is tipped back, exposing that rugged jawline made more rugged by his brown whiskers. I like that the brown of his whiskers is slightly darker than the light brown of his hair. It makes me want to know what the rest of his hair looks like.
I don’t think he’s wearing swim trunks. I could take him up on his invitation to join him in the tub, and try to see for sure. For science.
“What is wrong with you, Violet?” I say the words, but it’s Callum’s voice I hear.
As if he senses me watching him, Heath’s eyes snap open and he makes eye contact with me again. A slow smile spreads across his face, his white teeth glinting.
“Come on,” he mouths.
I can’t. I duck back past the window.
“Violet?” Brody’s voice is followed by a knock at my bedroom door.
No. I’m too humiliated. But if I don’t answer, he might come in to check on me. I clear my throat. “Yeah?”
“Sorry to bother you. I don’t know if you’ve seen, but there’s a storm warning—”
I open the door. I keep my gaze fixed on my bare toes. The glittery red nail polish I used this morning mocks me, because I thought Callum would appreciate it. “I saw the storm warning.”
“Yeah. Sorry. It looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Yeah. It’s fine.” I was already miserable because of stupid Callum. Humiliated by trying to be sexy for him. Now I can be doubly miserable. Trapped in a cabin with my dad’s best friends. One of whom has just witnessed an entirely different kind of humiliation.
Brody reaches forward and uses a single knuckle to tilt my chin up. “Hey. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. So will Heath. Okay?”
I nod, meeting his gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”