“That’s fine, shortcake. I’ll come to your rescue if you need it.”
She looks relieved. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” I keep my stare pointedly on her face, looking into her golden brown eyes so my gaze can’t stray to the soft swells of her breasts spilling from the plunging front of her sundress.
She’s got to be wearing all this revealing shit to tempt Xavian. That isn’t entirely his fault…but I still want to punch him in the face.
An hour later, I’m relieved to help Echo back into her cardigan before she boards the plane. Seeing so much of what I’m convinced are healthy D-cups has me on edge.
The company bought first-class tickets for X and me, and I refused to make Echo ride back in steerage, so I splurged to grab her the seat next to mine. Xavian is directly behind me. Once we take off, the drinks will flow and the party will be officially underway.
Except when we board, the flight attendant approaches Echo to ask if she’d move to the seat behind her—the one beside Xavian. I tell the woman wearing a blue polyester skirt and an indifferent expression that Echo and I are traveling together. She merely shrugs and says her hands are tied.
Echo sends me a sad, if apologetic, stare, then sinks down next to the guy she begged to take her V-card. Thirty seconds later, a dude in a suit plops in her seat, looking watchful and exacting. If he’s not some bigwig with the airline, then I’m not an investment portfolio manager.
The flight drags on forever. I try to watch movies, but I’m keenly aware of X and Echo talking nonstop behind me. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but she’s tossed off her sweater again and leans close to him. And there’s her cleavage, which he’s not even trying not to look at.
I need to stop stealing glances, too. What the fuck is wrong with me?
When we deplane, I stand to watch her slide her Birkenstocks back on, then rise to her feet. One of the spaghetti straps of her dress falls off her shoulder, hanging halfway down her arm. Before I can right it, Xavian trails a finger up her arm slowly, smiling as he settles the thin band back in place…and lingers too long.
“Thanks.” She sends him a sunny smile, then turns to me. “How was your flight?”
Too long. It sucked. The suit glared a lot and smelled faintly like sweat. “Fine.”
“Ours was really nice.”
“It was great,” X seconds.
Yeah, because you spent the last six hours ogling her tits.
As she tries to exit her row, my best friend trips on her own two feet. “Oops. I probably shouldn’t have had so many glasses of wine.”
X laughs as he catches her around the waist—and doesn’t let go. “You’re giggly.”
And you’re handsy, asshole.
I help her into the main aisle, warning Xavian with a scowl.
The trip through the terminal is less eventful. Thirty minutes later, we all have luggage, then we trudge outside to find the rental car counter…only to groan at the long line.
“One counter?” Echo sighs.
She’s usually really patient. Today, I’m the one soothing her. “It won’t take that long, shortcake.”
“You’re a liar, string bean.”
That crooked smile I know so well makes her look not just familiar, but surprisingly pretty as the day’s fading rays light up her caramel brown waves and sun-kissed skin.
If I’m thinking about my best friend as a woman, I’m clearly jet-lagged. I focus on the long line.
It takes nearly an hour, but we make it to the counter, secure the convertible I booked for the week, then take off with our luggage, the useless paper map, and our sense of adventure as Cardi B screams “I Like It” over the radio.
The hotel is in Wailea, on the southwest side of the island. A half hour later, the road winds a quiet, lush path down to our resort, Echo points and gasps at nearly every palm and every beautiful vista. I smile. This is why I brought her. I knew she’d love it. And we’ll make some awesome memories together. We’ve been doing that since we started attending the same elementary school. It didn’t seem right to come to paradise without her, even though that means I’m giving up sex this week.
Once the valet takes our car, we step into the open-air lobby.
Echo gawks, open-mouthed, at the stunning view of the ocean.
“Fuck…” X mutters almost under his breath.
Yeah, the lush foliage, swaying palms, and profusion of flowers are even more eye-popping than I imagined. It’s going to be an awesome week of paradise, booze, parties, and fun.
Check-in is painless, and a sexy AF Hawaiian woman in a bikini top and grass skirt shimmies up to put a lei around each of our necks.
“Aloha.” Her gaze lingers on Xavian.
My buddy winks her way. “Aloha, beautiful. Thanks.”
She smiles and disappears to greet more incoming guests.
“Can we go straight to the beach?” Echo pleads, still gaping at the shimmering Pacific.
I wrap an arm around her waist and guide her away from the steps leading down to the water. “We’ve got to drop off the luggage at least. The car rental took longer than expected, so our dinner reservations are in”—I glance at my phone—“forty-five minutes.”
“All right,” she grumbles.
Reluctantly, she lets me guide her to the next waiting car up. But it’s half full of beachgoers wrapped in fluffy resort towels, smelling of salt and dripping water. Echo and I fit inside with our luggage, but there’s no space for X.
“I’ll catch the next one,” he assures us.
“Sorry!” Echo calls as the doors begin to slide closed.
But Xavian isn’t bothered. Before I lose sight of him, he’s already making small talk with the Hawaiian hottie with the soft hips and ten-out-of-ten tits. I fully expect he’ll lay the giver of leis. Which is great because then he won’t be trying to lay Echo.
Finally, we make it to our suite, both amazed at our huge balcony with full-frontal views of the ocean. She dumps her luggage in the living room and rushes outside with a gasp.
I follow, feeling the same. “Pictures don’t do this place justice.”
“At all. Wow…” She turns to me with a huge smile. “I can’t believe we’re going to spend the week here. Thank you. Seriously.”
I bring her close and kiss the top of her head. Since she’s wearing her baggy cardigan again, I can almost forget how much cleavage she’s got underneath. “You’re welcome. I’m going to take a shower before dinner. Unless you want one first.”
“A quick one. Five minutes.”
“No problem.”
We jockey around the fact we only have one bathroom. It’s a big one, complete with a sunken tub and plush robes. But we do all right. By the time I step out of the bedroom in clean clothes, Echo turns to me wearing another short dress—this one a rosy shade with a three-tiered skirt that barely reaches mid-thigh. The curvy swells of her breasts are on display again, along with a huge smile. She’s done something to her face besides put on a little colored lip gloss. Her eyes seem bigger. Her skin already looks somehow glowing and tan.
I’ve never seen Echo look more than cute. Right now, she’s beautiful.
“Wow, you look great.” I’ve complimented her appearance a hundred times and meant it…except when I tried to be nice because she was sick and looked like hell. This is the first time I’ve ever felt awkward saying something. Does she know I mean it more than I should?