Page 41 of Hawaii Can Suck It

“Ah yes, of course.” Kai nods sagely. “You are the expert. And the weeks ahead will present plenty of time for us to intertwine our bodies.”

Kai finally—finally—saunters off, leaving behind a cloud of pheromones and uninvited sexual wisdom. I let out a breath, ready to regroup, when Cam grabs my camera from the recliner. I snatch it back before she can power it up.

“Oh no. I’ll be filming today.”

“Why?”

“Because you’reoncamera now, remember? Since you don’t have experience, you need to focus.”

“Right. Because I suck at everything. Filming. Sleeping. Being on camera. Tell me, boss, since I’m the worst employee in the history of employees, why haven’t you fired me yet?”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t spare my feelings. You’ll strain yourself.” She lifts her chin, daring me to say more—a total turn-on. “You’re paying me good money to play make-believe. So, call the shots, boss.”

How about you peel off that tank top and let me see your glorious breasts in your swimsuit. Please, oh please let your nipples be hard.

I clear my throat. “We don’t have time for wardrobe malfunctions, so you better not have worn a bikini.”

“One-piece.” She grabs the hem of her tank top. “Want a preview?”

“Jesus—NO! Can we just film the damn intro?”

I hitRecord. “Hey, DareSquad! Coming at you with some insane content. Yeah, trapped on an island with my ex—” I turn the lens to show Astrid in the background. “Yikes! But don’t worry about your boy. I’m moving on and moving up. Meet my new girlfriend, Camila!”

I pan to her and—great, just great. She’s frozen like a statue. I hitStop.

“What the hell was that?” The words come out harsher than intended. “You’ve literally filmed thousands of these.”

“Newsflash, pendejo.” She pokes my chest. “You didn’t tell me what to say. I’m not Blaze. I can’t read your mind.”

Right on cue: “Yooooo!” Blaze says from the pool stairs. “Me and my girl are gonna slay these games today! That’s how we do it!”

Both our heads snap toward the far end of the shimmering blue water, where beach chairs and neon inflatables clutter the deck. Blaze throws his overly muscular arm around Astrid, flashing a megawatt grin into the lens.

She tilts the camera so it highlights her cleavage. “That’s right, Blazey. Smash thatLikebutton if you’re down to see us destroy my ex, Reece Dare.”

I lift my hands. “Morales, how is this supposed to work when you have no clue how to be on camera?”

The moment the words leave my mouth, her expression crumbles, and I am officially the biggest asshole in Hawaii. I’m taking out my frustration—sexual and otherwise—on her. None of this clusterfuck is her fault.

“Cam, I’m—”

PWOOOOOOOO!

The loudest goddamn sound in the world explodes from across the pool.

I whip my head around and see Kai standing dramatically at the water’s edge, a massive conch shell pressed to his lips like a horn.

“Let the Passion Games begin!”

And I already know this day is about to get way worse.

***

Abikiniwouldhavebeen better. A fucking bikini would have been merciful compared to this stripper lingerie posing as a swimsuit.

It’s a masterpiece in royal blue, the color so deep and rich that her olive skin is glowing in the golden sun. A thin strap circles her neck, drawing attention to the giant, scandalous, absolutely soul-destroying cutout between her breasts. The way this thing celebrates her mouthwatering cleavage should be illegal.

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