Page 50 of Sunburned

I crept down the hallway and peeked in on my mom, confirming she was sleeping soundly, then slipped out the back door and mounted my bike. The night air was cool against my skin as I hurtled down the dark streets, in and out of the yellow pools of light cast by the streetlamps, my heart racing.

Maybe Cody was wrong. Maybe I’d rush over there just to find Tyson watching porn. We’d laugh and I’d feel like an idiot, bike home with my tail between my legs.

All was quiet as I pulled into the driveway and leaned my bike against the side of the house. I knew Cody was probably on the couch downstairs watching television, but if what I thought was going on was really happening, I didn’t want to put him in the position of being the one to let me in. Instead, I slipped through the side gate and around the back of the house to the pool deck, grabbing the key to the laundry room door from beneath the potted plant where I’d insisted Tyson stash it after the last time I’d gotten locked out. I fitted it into the lock and silently pushed the door open.

I could hear a laugh track on the television in the living room as I tiptoed through the kitchen toward the stairs. Cody turned, startled, his eyes widening when he saw me. I put a finger to my lips as he shook his head.

“Don’t go up there,” he mouthed.

I darted for the stairs before he could stop me, flying up the marble staircase and across the landing like the wind. My nerves stood on end as I came to a stop in front of Tyson’s door and stood still, listening. I didn’t have to strain my ears to hear the thunk of his headboard against the wall, the squeaking of the mattress coils interspersed with grunting I recognized and soft moans I didn’t.

With a deep breath, I placed my hand on the doorknob and shoved open the door. Candles burned on either side of the bed, illuminating the surprised face of one of the American flag bikini girls from the Fourth of July party, looking up at me from beneath Tyson. I gaped at them, engulfed by rage.

I’d known what I was getting into coming here, but seeing it was so much worse.

I could feel the wrath rising from my skin like steam as I spun on my heel and marched out of the room. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I found Cody standing at the edge of the living room, his jaw slack.

“I’m sorry,” he said, following me toward the door. “I feel like this is my fault.”

I stopped, turning to lay a hand on his arm. “Don’t. It’s not.”

“Stay out of this, Cody,” Tyson warned, sprinting down the stairs in his boxers. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

I swung open the front door and scurried out, their raised voices growing muddled as I grabbed my bike and pedaled off into the night. Fuck Tyson Dale. I hoped I’d never see him again.

Chapter 14

The vibe of the restaurant perched on the hill overlooking the port was more house party than fine dining establishment, with low lighting and plush couches in the bar area arranged to encourage conversation among the attractive clientele. Electronic lounge music thrummed over the speakers, and waiters maneuvered deftly between candlelit tables of tanned, laughing patrons dressed fashionably and imbibing decadently.

“Stop it,” Jennifer said, swatting at my hand as I tugged at the too-short hem of the powder-blue spaghetti-strap number she’d lent me. “You look amazing.”

It was true the dress fit me like a glove, the cutouts on either side displaying the tan I’d picked up by the pool today, and paired with the diamond waterfall earrings she’d insisted I borrow, I had to admit I looked good. Good enough that I’d been sorely disappointed when someone who was not Laurent showed up to drive us to dinner.

I’d convinced myself it was better that he wouldn’t be there, but clearly I hadn’t done a sufficient job, because when I heard Allison raise her voice in greeting and glanced over my shoulder to seeLaurent, I felt a rush of excitement. He looked appropriately devastating in a crisp white button-down with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, and was talking to Allison and Cody, but his eyes were fixed on the hem of my dress. My gaze collided with his and my body immediately betrayed me, producing a thrill that blazed all the way down my spine.

Trying in vain to snuff out the flame, I turned my attention to my phone, but the message I was waiting for from Rosa still hadn’t come in. I fired off a text:

Any word on that arrest record?

Her reply came immediately:

Did the pix I texted not go through?

I gave her text a thumbs-down and asked her to email them, but a moment later when I checked my email, I couldn’t access the attachment. The files were too large for the spotty cellular service on the island. I needed Wi-Fi.

I sidled over to the bar, signaling the bartender. “Excuse me,” I said. “Is there Wi-Fi here that I could hook up to?”

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Put your phone away,” Jennifer teased, pulling me back toward our group. “Just be here.”

Not wanting to look like an asshole, I acquiesced, stowing the device in my purse. When I looked up, my gaze again caught Laurent’s, and I flushed.

Would it be such a bad thing to have a fling with Laurent? A very small, very discreet fling. Yes, he worked for Tyson, but what did it matter, really? I’d never see him again after this week, and Tyson hated me already.

Maybe I didn’t need to always color inside the lines quite sofaithfully, I thought as we followed the hostess to our table by a window open to the balmy night air. Maybe the lines were a prison of my own making, that held any power only because I gave them power. There was a whole philosophy based around that, wasn’t there?

“What are you thinking about?”

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