From the Jump(20)

“No offense intended,” Phoebe said, coming toward us. “It’s not like you mean to be infuriating. If you were capable of giving women more, I’m sure you would.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Deiss says. “As long as it’s my incompetence that’s the problem and not anything hurtful.”

“Exactly.” Phoebe settles on the bed beside me and leans over, smothering me in a hug. “You’re here! Please know that I don’t blame you at all for giving in to Deiss now that he’s all shaven and sex-panther-y. It’s one hundred percent his fault for unleashing himself on womankind.”

Her hair smells like coconuts, and I breathe it in, savoring her closeness. I’ve long suspected there’s something about me that gives off a warning signal. A kind of Do Not Touch sign that people seem scared to disobey. Like Mac, though, Phoebe doesn’t adhere to it. She never has. She’s always treated me as if I belong to her in some small way. I like it. It’s nice to be claimed by someone.

“I missed you,” I say, squeezing her back.

“Interesting,” Deiss says. “I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to hear that the Ice Queen had no emotional response to seeing me. I let her stay in my bed and didn’t even get a hug for my generosity.”

I look up at the reminder. “You were supposed to separate them.”

“And you weren’t supposed to pass out on them before I had the chance.”

“Wait,” Phoebe says. “Are you saying you didn’t sleep together?”

“No need to sound so relieved,” Deiss says. “I’ve never had any negative reviews before.”

“He’s probably never stayed around long enough to receive feedback,” I say to Phoebe.

“You should go,” Deiss says to Phoebe. “She was much more pleasant before you arrived.”

“I was so tired yesterday my brain was barely functioning,” I say, despite the fact that today is not much better. I’ve traded exhaustion for haze. “That wasn’t so much pleasantness as stupidity.”

“Actually,” Deiss says, “I was referring to the cuddling this morning.”

I roll my eyes, hoping Phoebe’s groan distracts from the redness I can feel creeping into my cheeks. While my eyes can be counted on to hide any emotion, my skin isn’t always as accommodating.

“You should go,” Phoebe says to Deiss. “We need coffee.”

“There’s some on the table.”

“The instant packets? Those didn’t pass for coffee at the hotel in Spain, and they still don’t here. We need the real stuff, Deiss, and you’ve been nominated to find it for us.”

Deiss sighs and leans forward. “Fine.”

His white t-shirt is so threadbare, it’s almost see-through. My eyes catch on the muscles that pop out beneath it as he pushes himself up. I force myself to turn to Phoebe, but she’s busy watching the show.

“You sleep in shorts?” she asks, scanning the length of him.

I breathe a sigh of relief at the confirmation of real clothes on his bottom half. If it had turned out I’d cuddled a boxer-clad Deiss—or, worse, a Deiss in briefs—I’m not sure I ever could’ve looked him in the eyes again.

“When I’m sharing the bed with Liv, I do,” he says. “What time do we board the boat?”

I look over in surprise, but Deiss is looking down at the floor, shuffling into a pair of low-profile white trainers. “Boat?”

“We’ve got the wildlife cruise today. I already called, and they confirmed there’s space for you.” Phoebe glances over at Deiss. “It leaves at ten. So, you’d better get on that coffee.”

“Aye, aye, Cap,” he says dryly, grabbing his phone. As he strolls out the door, he glances at me and says, “Told you she was bossy on vacation.”

I don’t defend her because I’m already reaching for my phone to check the time. It’s 8:37, and I’m guessing the boat doesn’t depart from the lobby. We’ll have to get to a dock, which means I probably have less than an hour before we leave. It’s not enough time. Waterproof mascara always takes longer to apply, and I’ll need to do a Google search on boat hairstyles that are flattering but will prevent me from ending up with a mouthful of honey-blond highlights. Thank goodness I took care of shaving last night.

“Can you do me a huge favor?” I get out of bed and head toward my suitcase. “I need to find somewhere else to stay tonight, but I also have to get ready. Would you mind searching some options?”

“But I have so much to tell you. And this might be our only time alone all day. Plus, we have a patio!” Phoebe darts to the door on the other side of the cabana and flings it open, gesturing outside like the assistant on a game show.

Her smile is so wide that I feel my mouth mirroring hers. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of sitting around and catching up. I have new accommodations to find. More importantly, I don’t go out into the world without my armor on. As much as I love Phoebe, she should know me well enough to understand this. When we were at school and half the girls on campus were wandering around in pajama pants and sweatshirts, I was swapping out purses to better accessorize my outfits. As my mother always told me, if you look like a mess, people will assume they can mess with you.