Page 63 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
From the back, another guy appeared. He was about our age, maybe as young as Aviva. He said something in rapid Japanese to the old man, then looked over at us. He was handsome, with a jawline so sharp it was basically a work of art. Aviva’s mouth dropped open and she stared—at least, she did until I nudged her with my elbow.
“Hi, I’m Kato. My grandfather says you are looking for a particular book?”
Aviva continued to blink, and I cleared my throat. “Yeah, a Jules Verne novel.”
He gave us both a bright smile with perfect teeth, and honestly, I totally got his dazzling appeal. He didn’t compare to Hendrick, but he had that easygoing, sweet book nerd thing going for him with those thick-rimmed glasses and a t-shirt that was just this side of too tight.
“Sure, come on back.”
Aviva finally found her voice. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” His English was great, only slightly accented. “This is our English classic section here. I apologize that there is no specific order.”
Aviva flushed. “No, that’s okay.”
Kato smiled. “Are you all together?”
Aviva went beet red. “No. I mean, yes, but not seriously. I mean, I don’t really know what we are, it’s not like—”
Sampson put his hand over her mouth. “She means yes, we are all shopping together. Thank you.”
Kato bowed and left, and I lost it. I laughed so hard I could barely hiss, Hendrick and Sampson laughing right along with me. Aviva’s face went impossibly redder, and she punched me in the stomach.
“Shut up. Help me find this book so we can leave, and I can throw myself off that pretty bridge by our hotel and never face the world again.”
Sampson curled his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest. “Come on, Good Girl. Find your book so I can take you back to the hotel and show you how together we really are.”
Chapter34
Aviva
Ispread the gloss over my lips with precision. Tonight, we were going out for dinner, then on the Cosmo wheel, finishing off the night by meeting one of the guys’ college buddies at a club. I was nervous about that.
Somehow, I knew that meeting their friends meant things would change. I couldn’t be sure how, I just knew it would. So I put my makeup on with extra care to ensure I looked worthy of their attention, as stupid as that sounded. I’d spent a ridiculous amount of time on my curls after my shower, and they fell in soft ringlets around my face. My lipstick was red, my lashes long, and my dress sparkled softly under the bathroom lights. It would have to do.
I even put on heels instead of my Converse or boots, which I felt was probably good aesthetics but terrible practicality. Still, I couldn’t argue with the fact my legs looked long and shapely, and I felt confident. Not just confident, but beautiful, which wasn’t something I’d ever felt before this trip.
Pushing my boobs up in my dress to give me better cleavage, I took a deep breath. These guys had all seen me naked. Hell, they’d all seen me worse than naked. They still liked me.
So what if Hendrick had been different over the last couple of days? Otto had explained. It didn’t have anything to do with me. At least, that's what my head told me. That stupid voice that might be my heart told me that he’d fucked me, seen me at my very worst, and now he was done. Disgusted with me. Men like Hendrick expected perfection—the girl at the club in New York had proven that. She’d seemed like the epitome of perfection to me, but even she hadn’t been good enough for Hendrick.
I shook my head, my curls bouncing around my ears. No. It didn’t matter now; I wasn’t going to let the doubts creep in. I was going to go, have a nice night with the guys, and thoughts of the future could just fucking wait.
I opened the bathroom door, and walked through to the living area. I saw Otto first, his shoulders encased in a stiff white shirt that stretched across his back like a caress. His slacks were very obviously tailored, and they made his ass look divine.
I cleared my throat, and he turned, his mouth dropping open. “Aviva. You look beautiful.”
He stepped toward me, and I could see around his shoulder to where Sampson sat sprawled on the couch. He was in tight black jeans and a black button down shirt. A classic leather jacket hung over the arm of the couch beside him.
A choked noise to the left had me turning, and Hendrick was gaping at me. “Jesus, Viva. I can nearly see your ass cheeks in that dress.”
I flipped him the bird, falling back into our old antagonistic roles easily. “Then don’t look, you pervert.”
He looked achingly handsome tonight, a sports jacket giving him an air of propriety paired with his ripped, dark wash jeans and a khaki t-shirt. It made him look both dressed down and effortlessly fashionable. Asshole. It shouldn’t be that easy.
“You all look nice too,” I said with a smile.
Sampson uncurled himself from the lounge, and he made it look so graceful that it was definitely a turn on. Considering I was only twenty-one, I felt like I was ninety-nine some days, especially after the accident.
