Every Girl Does It(24)

Chapter Ten



We pull up to The Westin where we’re staying, and I gasp, letting my hand cover my mouth. It’s gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a resort this pretty in my entire life. And to top it off, there’s a waterfall in the pool. My traitorous thoughts lead me to thinking about what Mr. December would look like swimming in the pool, and under the waterfall. I begin to overheat, compliments of my sinful thoughts, when I hear Brad start talking to the front desk manager.

“Brad and Kristin Holland checking in for four,” Brad says as he and Kristin approach the giant desk in the lobby. My mouth is still open. Mrs. Butterworth is now back in her cage patiently waiting for me to free her in the room.

Preston comes up beside me and asks, “What do you think? Beautiful, right?”

I smile and get ready to answer, but instead of words all I can do is nod. How can he already be that tan? We’ve been here five minutes and he already looks more tan than me. Guys should not be allowed to be prettier than girls; it just isn’t right, or fair.

My assumption about his good looks is confirmed as I watch several girls in swimsuits walk by and drop open their mouths. I even hear someone whisper “celebrities”. They can’t be talking about me, only him. The dark-hair-blue-eyed look I have is quite exotic, but that’s all I have going for me considering I’m shorter than most kids in middle school. He, however, has a whole lot of everything going on, from his tall build to his perfect hair and teeth. He needs to be humbled. And I now feel the need to be the person through whom that humbling comes. Not that I haven’t tried, mind you. It’s just hard not to get sidetracked around him.

“So,” Kristin says with a strained voice as she approaches us. Uh-oh, something is definitely wrong. “They double booked everything, which is fine.” She puts up her hands so I don’t panic, “It's fine. It’s just that you guys didn’t get the rooms you wanted. Actually, none of us did.”

I look to Brad for some sort of hint as to what is going on, but he just shrugs and smiles; figures.

“Where are we staying then?” I ask.

Brad and Kristin laugh awkwardly before giving us our room keys. Kristin hands me mine then says, “You’re both staying in their resort huts outside. Well, have fun. Meet us for dinner at five. Bye.”

And then, just like that, they’re gone, leaving me and Preston with Mrs. Butterworth.

“What exactly,” Preston muses while opening his pamphlet with the key card, “is a resort hut?”

“Well, I guess we’re about to find out.” Pointing at the little sign that says, ”Resort Huts this way”, I motion to him and grab my stuff. As long as there are no bugs, I’ll be fine.

Upon arriving at our little hut, I realize I’m more than fine. It’s beautiful! Except…“Preston?” I ask, trying not to sound scared. “What number does your hut key have?”

“Five. Why?” He asks leading me down the pathway.

I’m going to kill them. I’ll absolutely kill them.

“Oh, no reason…well, except mine says five, too.”

“We can’t stay in the same hut, Amanda. It’ll look bad,” he says shrugging, as if to say, “Find somewhere else to stay. I’m taking the hut.”

“I agree.” I catch up to him. “But she said it's overbooked.”

“Let’s at least go inside before we jump to conclusions,” Preston answers while unlocking the door.

And I know it’s silly to hear music when you see things as if you’re in a good movie, but I could swear at this moment, I hear music.

It isn’t just hut number five. It is honeymoon hut number five. Awesome. This could not get any worse. My only saving grace is the fact that there are two bedrooms in the hut, meaning I can lock my door every night. The entire living room is open to the outside, but there are nets you could pull down at night. It also leads directly to the pool, giving us a fantastic view of the waterfalls.

“This—“I start to say.

“—is awesome,” Preston finishes. “We have to stay here,“ He adds as he throws his stuff into the main room.

“Um, excuse me,” I say, putting my hands on my hips.

“What?” He asks truly not getting my sarcasm.

“What makes you think you get the big room?”

He shrugs. “Easy, because I’m bigger.”

He has a point. I’m not going to back down without a fight. “Okay fine,” I say, throwing my stuff onto the couch. “Let’s paper rock scissor for it.”

“You’re on.” He puts his hand into position then glares at me with those green eyes.

“Paper, Rock, Scissor,” we say at the same time.

“Hah! Scissor.” I yell as I cut through his paper. We go two more rounds, and I win. Then he does the most uncharacteristic thing I’ve ever seen him do. He takes my hands in his and gives me puppy dog eyes. He makes himself cry one single tear then leans in close and says, “Please, Amanda, pretty please may I have the room.”

My heart has stopped. Somebody call a paramedic; blood is no longer pumping through my system. “You irritate me,” I say breathless, willing the blood to return to my face and legs. My legs go weak and I collapse. Unbelievable, I can’t believe I just did that.