Casanova(20)

I reached out and flicked a lock of her hair away from where it was caught on her eyelashes. “Crystal clear, kitten.”

She grasped the doorknob and looked over her shoulder. “Seven a.m. tomorrow. We’re running, and you’re going to tell me everything I need to not print.”

“Without you signing the agreement?”

“ I guess you’d better Google ‘how to respect a woman,’ don’t you think?” She yanked the door open before pausing once more. “Oh, and, Brett? Leave that fucking nickname where it belongs. In the trash.”

The door slammed closed behind her.

I dropped back onto my chair. My elbow hit the table and I left it there, leaning and pressing the side of my face into my hand. Jesus Christ—who was that and what did they do with Lani Montana? There was no fucking way that...sassy vixen...was my sweet girl. No way in hell. It wasn’t possible. Eight years wasn’t that long. How could she have changed so much in so little time?

Then again, I wasn’t the person I was back then either. But at least back then, I was some semblance of the asshole I was today.

She couldn’t be more different if she’d had a personality transplant.

So why the fuck did I like it?





I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. Seven a.m. was criminally early, and I’d put a good amount of money on it that Lani knew it. There was no other reason for her to say such a stupid time. She had to know I wouldn’t normally be up now.

She’d be right, except today was different. I was up because I’d barely slept. It’d been a night of bullshit fits and starts, tossing and turning. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get her out of my damn head.

Why was she so secretive about why she’d left?

Why did she appear to hate me so much that the mere thought of being in the same room as me disgusted her?

Why was she so different, yet so familiar at the same time?

Because that was my biggest issue, more than the other two, oddly enough. In the small hours of the night with nothing but the darkness surrounding me, I’d replayed every conversation we’d had since she returned to Whiskey Key and I saw her outside the baby store. I’d rehashed every exchange and reminded myself of every word she’d said to me.

Sure, she was different. She had more attitude now, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. She was almost fearless in her delivery of every scathing comment she sent my way. But there was something...more. There was something oh-so-familiar that I couldn’t quite place. It lingered in what felt like a black hole of teasing memories, because I couldn’t put my finger on what it was I remembered. What it was hadn’t changed about her.

And it bugged the ever-loving fuck outta me.

One thing was the same—she wasn’t as different as I thought she was.

That, or I was trying to hold onto something she’d let go of eight years ago. What that was I didn’t know. Friendship? Emotions? Her?

I rubbed my hand down my face and looked out down the beach. A lone figure with dark hair and something clasped in her hand strolled easily toward me, and after a couple of minutes, I could clearly see that it was Lani clutching a water bottle.

Her shorts were barely-there, and her tank top hugged her tits tightly before flowing out loosely over her body. She blew upward and swiped her bangs out of her eyes as she approached me.

“Good morning, kitten,” I greeted her with a smirk.

If it was possible, her expression hardened. “I thought I told you to ditch the nickname?”

“I’m not so great at doing as I’m told.”

“No,” she replied, looking me dead in the eye, her face void of all emotion. “You don’t say.”

I grinned.

Her mask cracked as her mouth twitched for the barest second before she looked away. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“I thought we could run and talk.”

“Why? So you can escape me?” I raised an eyebrow.

She swung her gaze back to me, the slightest hint of amusement glittering back at me. “It is a possibility.”

“Fine,” I said. “But you have to take at least five minutes of me being a prick before you bolt. How else will I incriminate myself?”

That drew a smile out of her, and fuck if it wasn’t the prettiest damn smile I’ve ever seen. “You win. Five minutes of solid assholery and I’m gone. Let’s go.”

She took off just before I was ready, and damn, the girl could run. It took me a good thirty seconds to catch up with her and fall into pace beside her. I didn’t speak and neither did she, not immediately. We ran for a couple of minutes with only the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and birds squawking out as they circled overhead.

“So,” she said, slowing to a jog. “How did the perfect one fall from grace?”

I chuckled. “I was never perfect, you know that.”

“Of course I know that, but now I’m assuming everybody else does as well. I must admit, it’s pretty refreshing to not see everybody fawning over you just because of your last name.”

She could say that again. “I got found out, I guess. I’m not sure what other explanation you want me to give. People stopped seeing me as the perfect heir and started seeing me for what I was—a young guy having fun.”