The Trade(44)

“You’re being weird.” I poke Milly in the arm while we sit at the bar waiting for everyone else to join us for dinner. “Feeling okay after the boat ride?”

She nods. “Yeah, it’s just that”—she bites her lip and looks over her shoulder—“where’s Natalie?”

“In the room getting ready. I thought giving her some space would be smart. Why?”

Milly rarely has a hard time telling me anything, but she looks like she’s about to vomit with whatever’s sitting heavily on her heart.

“Come on, Mills, what’s going on? You look pale.”

“I just . . .” She takes a deep breath and says, “I think you should not focus on Natalie.”

Ohhh-kay.

“Well, we’re on a friend-trip right now. And I have zero plans of making a move on her because as we discussed, she’s in a different headspace than me. Why are you bringing this up? Did she say something?”

Milly rests her hand on my forearm and says, “I know you, Cory, inside and out, and when you give in to your feelings, you’re all in. It’s hard for you to hold them back.”

“Yeah, it’s why I’m trying to handle this situation with care and treat it as a friendship.”

“Okay, I think that’s smart.”

“Why? What did she say?” I ask, seeing there’s more to what Milly is saying.

“I don’t want to upset you and honestly, I’m not quite sure if I believe what she said, but I figured I’d warn you anyway.”

My pulse picks up. So Natalie did say something about me. From the pained look in Milly’s eyes, she’s treading with caution, probably because I’ve been against getting involved with anyone for so long, until Natalie came along. Not that it’s an option. I can see Milly trying to sugarcoat whatever she’s about to say.

“Just get on with it, Mills.”

“Okay, yeah, sorry. We were talking about Natalie needing to uh . . . get out there.” Milly wiggles her eyebrows and I catch her drift. Natalie is looking for those flings she talked about. Okay, that doesn’t make me feel ragey inside at all. Not one bit . . .

“Emory suggested hooking up with you.”

I frown. “Yeah, I don’t want a hookup.”

“I know, and I wanted to say that, but I kept my mouth shut. But before anyone could say anything else, Natalie practically shouted that you’re not her type.”

“Not her type?” Milly cringes even more, looking so apologetic it’s almost comical. So comical that I start to laugh. Really laugh, full-on belly laugh, folding over, hand-to-stomach.

“What’s so funny?” She chuckles too, my laughter contagious. “Seriously, Cory.” She pushes at my shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know, just seems like the way I’ve caught her checking me out here and there, I’m at least not dog trash to her.”

Milly laughs a little louder and nods. “Yeah, I thought the same thing. I’ve seen her glances.”

“Not her type.” I shake my head and laugh some more.

“Yeah.” Milly’s voice lightens up. “She said she doesn’t like abs.”

That makes me laugh even harder to the point of tears. “Oh shit. Who doesn’t like abs?”

“Exactly. I thought it was weird, especially when she said she likes knuckles. Old-man knuckles.”

I snort so hard I strain the back of my throat, as I grip the bar, the hilarity taking over. “Old-man knuckles? Oh fuck. That’s amazing.” I glance at my hands and flash them at Milly. “What do you think? Should I put my knuckles on display tonight and see what happens?”

“Maybe rub one against her cheek, see if she orgasms.”

“Ha.” I guffaw so loud we’re starting to gather attention. “Now that’s something. Orgasm by knuckle. I know what my new goal in life is.”

“Hey,” Carson says, coming up next to us. “What’s so funny?”

Milly and I exchange glances and then laugh again while shaking our heads. “Nothing you need to worry about, bro,” I say, standing from my seat at the bar and offering it to him so he can sit next to his wife.

I grab my drink and give them a parting wave, chuckling the entire time.

Not her type.

Please.

I’m not full of myself by any means, but I do know one thing for certain: Natalie can hide under those sunglasses all she wants, I still caught her checking me out. Not that it matters, but it’s nice to know that she’s avoiding me, even when the girls suggest she hook up with me.

She’s holding on to the friend-trip. I like that. Shows she not like every other girl who’s tried to get with me.





I grip the edge of the table and say, “Want to go for a walk?”

Natalie rubs her stomach and blows out a long breath. “I think I need one after that pasta dish.”

We’re both sitting at the vacated table, everyone already off to their rooms—hmm, wonder what they’re doing, thankfully we don’t share walls—and the sun has set. The beach and resort are lit with tiki torches, creating an island-living vibe. There’s a small breeze, and the temperature has cooled enough that we don’t need to walk around in a bathing suit to survive.