Don't Tell (Don't 1)

He made it known little sisters were a pain in the ass.

I reminded myself that that was exactly what Kaitlyn was—a pain in my ass. And I wasn’t going to keep thirst after her tits, or her lush lips. I’d stop picturing her hips in my hands. I’d stop imaging her ragged breath in my ear when I made her come hard.

Towels. I threw open the supply closet. She needed fucking towels. That was the mission.

9

Kaitlyn

After three hours baking in the Texas coastal sun, I needed a break from the heat. I wrapped the forbidden towel around my chest and tucked the corner into the side. Luckily, Lisa had convinced me to buy flip-flops along with a pair of sandals. I slipped them on my feet and traipsed back to room twenty-three.

I had forgotten how mad Cole was at the pool. It reminded me of high school. Ryan would get so pissed. Did he think of me the same way? Was there anything I could do about it?

It was early afternoon and I had nothing else to do. No one to hang out with or commiserate with—I was utterly alone. Mary Ellen and the girls were probably floating down one of the lazy rivers in Myrtle Beach, flirting with cute boys and sipping on fruity drinks. I didn’t want to think about what Branch and Miss Steal-My-Room were doing.

I left another message with the airline. It was almost twenty-four hours since my luggage had gone missing, and I was beginning to think my calls and emails to the company were a lost cause.

The shower in my bathroom at the Dune Scape was covered in blue and pink tiles—just one more leftover relic from when the motel was built in the 1950s. I reached for the faucet marked with an H for hot. Even though they were old, some of the features were cute and retro. They just needed some TLC. I hung my towel on the back of the door before I heard a knock at the door.

I crossed the room and opened the door.

“Towels?” Cole stood holding a stack of fluffy white towels.

I stifled a giggle. It was obvious he was trying to balance the soft linens in his frame without touching them. He had new paint splatters on his arm.

“I thought you said there weren’t enough towels to go around?” I put my hands on my hips, knowing full well he could see almost every square inch of my skin—almost.

His eyes landed on the tops of my breasts, and I realized for the second time today how skimpy this suit was. Please, God, tell me he noticed.

“I—uh—thought I wasn’t being the best host. Here. Plenty of towels.” He shoved the stack into my arms, and shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“This is too many. I don’t want you breaking any motel rules for me.” I chewed on my bottom lip, staring directly into the crystal blue eyes that caught me off guard every time I saw them.

“You need towels, don’t you? Just take them.” It seemed like this was his way of a peace offering even if his delivery was a little off.

“Thanks.” I held them in my arms, unsure what to say next. I searched for words, but couldn’t move past thanks. All of my banter melted under his stare. Damn him.

“You need anything else?” His eyes locked on mine.

I shook my head.

“I’ve gotta go—uh—” He stepped back and pulled his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose. “—fix something.” He backed up and walked toward the office.

I stood in the doorway, watching him hurriedly walk out of view. I was completely confused. He was hot and cold. It had been a long time since a guy had looked at me like that, but I recognized the look. It made me feel sexy, pretty, and just a little powerful, even if he did derail my ability to form a sentence. It was hard to ignore that every time he was around the energy in the air changed.

I closed the door and hooked the chain on the lock. I placed the stack on the bed and unraveled the top towel. Maybe a hot shower would help clear my head, and push the questions I had about Cole out of my mind.

10

Kaitlyn

My phone buzzed.

Hey, it’s Sasha from the Island Sun. Want to hang out at a beach party?

My prayers had been answered. The sweet girl from the hotel was asking me out.

Absolutely.