First and Tension (Summersweet Island 4)

“This is all your fault, you dipshits! I am going to rain hellfire down upon all of you!” I shout, not really feeling better but on a roll at this point. “You’re doing my laundry, and the laundry for all the cottages for the next two weeks to make it up to me! I am going to be a stage-five clinger on your asses the likes of which you have never seen before! Buckle up, fuckers!”

“So this is where the hotheaded, banshee-like, demanding woman with no respect for authority has been hiding all this time.”

The wide-eyed, oh shit looks on every person’s face in front of me right now tells me the velvety, deep, familiar voice coming from behind me that has haunted my dreams and my fantasies for the last five months is not a figment of my depraved imagination.

And he definitely doesn’t sound very happy to finally be in the presence of his secret girlfriend again, or our love child that I have yet to locate….

I take back what I thought earlier. It turns out my life actually can get worse.

CHAPTER 5

Emily

“Awesome… just an awesome turn of events.”

“Does my hair look okay?”

“Why did you make me wear this shirt? It’s a stupid, ugly shirt, and I look hideous.”

“How’s my breath on a scale of one to ten? Whose got gum?”

Ignoring the whispering panic between the fangirls, I let Birdie and Wren try to shush their two ridiculous men while the freakiest sense of déjà vu washes over me. Slowly turning around and then looking several inches up, I see the same annoyed, breathtakingly handsome face with no hint of any dimples hidden under his five o’clock shadow, just like I did five months ago. Except this time, I don’t have the warm comfort of a gallon of tequila to help get me through it.

“Yay, it’s QB!” I shout, throwing my arms up in a high V.

Although it looks like I’m going to act like it…

I’m so thrown off by the fact that Quinn Bagley is standing right here, on my island, in my place of work, that I don’t know how to act. He’s dressed casually in a pair of black joggers, a long-sleeved Under Armour shirt that clings to his muscles in all the right places, with a Nike baseball cap on his head, looking better than he has any right to. And I’ve seen him dressed in a tailored suit, which should be damn near illegal.

Quinn is clearly not amused by me and crosses his arms in front of him. When all I can think about is how it felt to have those strong arms wrapped around me when he teased me about throwing me in the pool, I quickly drop my own arms down to my sides and get my shit together.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so—”

“Who the hell even are you?”

Those words and the pissed-off tone of his voice get my hackles up, and the apology and concern over his wellbeing dies on my tongue and in my heart. I know exactly who I am, so I put my hands on my hips and return his glare, pretending like seeing him standing in front of me doesn’t make me feel like I’m alive again after five long months.

“Clearly, you think I’m exactly who the media says I am, so why are you even here?”

God, that hurts like a bitch to say out loud, when just the sight of him makes me want to tell him everything that’s wrong and let him make it all better with his full belly laugh and teasing smile.

I can’t believe I actually thought that, after a handful of hours, this man would know me better than this and not think the worst of me. I am such an idiot.

“I just wanted to see if it was all an act,” he mutters—like a knife to the heart as he looks me up and down.

Well, now he really is going to think that night was all an act. Of course I couldn’t be wearing something sexy and badass like the night we met. Oh no. I’m like a sad, rejected Stevie from Schitt’s Creek, in ratty skinny jeans, a T-shirt with a flannel thrown over it, a pair of Converse that used to be white at some point, my hair thrown up on top of my head in one of Wren’s signature messy buns, and nary a smoky eye in sight. I look as hideous as Shepherd does in that Dip and Twist shirt.

Oh, who gives a shit what you look like? You’re better than this! Get it together!

“Hi! Palmer Campbell. You’ve probably heard of me. I—”

“Dude, that was so douchey. Don’t say that.”

“I can’t explain what happened without a proper introduction.”

“You guys are so embarrassing. Now he’ll never want to play with us. Just apolo—”