Page 6 of Park Avenue Princess

“Okay, okay, that’s enough. Now you’re making me have second thoughts. Sheesh.”

“Lynnie.” The constant use of her endearment softens my heart and I have no choice but to look up at her. She takes my hand once again. “You are going to pack your bag, phone your parents, and get your ass on the next flight outta here. Ya feel me?”

I smile. “I feel ya.” I throw my arms around her and she reciprocates, giving me a good hug. When we pull back, her smile rivals mine. “I’ll email you my plans and pertinent information. Then I’m going to leave specific instructions with my building attendant that you are the only one allowed entry into my apartment, should the need arise. Ya feel me?”

“I feel ya.”

Six months later I forget all about the scolding lecture from my mom, the indifference from my father, and the mishaps that had me rethinking everything! Less than forty-eight hours into my get-away, which included my belongings being lost, I was certain I should’ve aborted my grand plans of international travel.

Thanks to my OCD I had the most important articles on my person—ID, passport, and credit card.

Normally I was the type of person who over-packed, planning for any given variable, and over-thought every little detail, wondering if my final choice was the correct one.

Well I quickly got over all that.

I began to travel with only what I could carry in a backpack and buying what I needed along the way. I also began to rethink ever returning to New York City as I told Addy I would. Realistically, I knew I would. Eventually. Buthells bells, was I having the time of my life!

I wasn’t weighed down with needless items. I wasn’t on any timeframe but my own. I didn’t have to answer to anyone but myself. And it was glorious!

After traveling Australia’s coastline from the Great Barrier Reef down to Sydney, then practicallyeverywherein New Zealand, I decided against back-tracking to Europe. Instead, I’m in Hawaii on the island of Oahu, ready to get strapped into a harness, about to go parasailing.

The day is blindingly sunny with temperatures well into the eighties and a swift wind racing across Mamala Bay, churning up waves. Surprisingly, not many have signed up for the activity today, which means only three others besides me are on the boat that is zipping across the choppy water.

A young couple who can’t keep their hands off one another is huddled on one side, while next to me sits an admittedly cute guy who is leaning back, soaking up as much sun as possible on his already tanned body.

With his eyes closed and mine covered with sunglasses, I take the liberty of discretely scanning him from head to toe. More than cute, he is downright handsome, with a lean face, perfectly shaped lips, and dark unruly hair being blown about. A crop of whiskers covers his jaw and sides as if he didn’t want to bother shaving for a few days. My fingers itch to see if it would feel rough, or had it grown beyond that and reached the tickly stage. His chest with a light dusting of that dark hair is on full display as the planes of well-formed pecs and abdominals testify to a more-than-decent workout routine. Muscled legs are stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. His sculpted arms are spread out along the rail behind us, and if I were to relax, my back would brush his hand.

But nervousness and anticipation keep me upright as I shift my gaze out over the water again, my hands clutching the edge of the bench while my legs bounce as I dance in my seat.

“Have you ever been parasailing?”

I jump at the voice coming from the man beside me. The deep, lazy drawl strokes over me and I instantly want to beg to hear more. I turn toward him and my gaze collides with the most alluring eyes I have ever seen. They’re a light, sea-foam green rimmed with black. Exotic. Mesmerizing. His mouth quirks as I continue to stare, unable to break away. When he lifts a brow, prodding me to answer, I barely find enough moisture in my mouth to get my lips and tongue moving.

“Uh, no, never.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe and come away with a memorable experience.”

“You’ve obviously been up before?”

“I have,” he states simply.

After another moment of staring at him, I turn away, unable to handle his intensity. But once again I jump at the sound of his voice, his breath nearly teasing my ear.

How the heck had he moved so swift and silent that I hadn’t even noticed?

“Relax,” he murmurs. “You’ve nothing to fear.”

I nearly moan at the caress of his words as the hairs on my body rise with excitement.

“I’m Guy, by the way.”

I turn and find myself within inches of him. “Addy.” I easily manage the lie.

Why did I lie? Damned if I know.

“A pleasure.” His smile is disarming. The look in his eyes, hypnotizing, as they remain locked on me. I feel a pull toward him I can’t even begin to explain.

And somehow I know after today I’ll never be the same.

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