First and Tension (Summersweet Island 4)

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one who hired a driver; therefore, I drove you around. But now I gotta get this golf cart back to Palmer. He’s been texting me nonstop, and he’s pissed I took it without asking. There’s the Summersweet Island Hotel,” Bodhi says, pointing to a sprawling, upscale building right on the shoreline that he parked us in front of. “I would have taken you back to Emily’s place to rent a cottage, but she’s super mad, and blood stains are really hard to get out. I was in a sticky situation once with a Mexican drug cartel and my friend Millie, and let me tell you, she was not happy her favorite Birkin bag got ruined. Anyway, it’s best to just give Emily some time to cool off before you ask her to pretend to be your girlfriend to impress your boss.”

Tyler and I just silently blink at Bodhi for a few seconds until I shrug, actually believing the guy for some crazy reason.

“No!” Tyler shouts at both of us as I slide out of the golf cart. “We are not staying here, and you cannot possibly be entertaining this ridiculous idea!”

“Doesn’t sound like there’s anywhere else to stay,” I tell him, wondering what in the hell I’m doing. “And it’s not that ridiculous of an idea.”

Am I really thinking about crawling back to Emily on my hands and knees, begging her to go to this lunch with me and put on a good show for my boss, promising her we can immediately “break up amicably” right when it’s over, and she’ll never have to see me again?

I think about how happy and carefree she made me feel that night playing games all around my backyard. And I think about how much fun it was to tease her, and how hot it was for her to give me shit. And about how much I just wanted to wrap her in my arms tonight and see if she still fit as perfectly as she did that night in my back yard, when I was teasing her about throwing her in the pool. But with a lot less teasing, and a lot more finding out what her lips taste like.

I see absolutely nothing wrong with this plan.

“Any other advice you can give me?” I ask Bodhi as I walk to stand next to him sitting in the driver seat.

When Tyler realizes we really have nowhere else to go and I really am contemplating this idea, he lets out a string of curses before getting out of the golf cart and stomping up the walkway toward the hotel, already yelling at someone on his phone.

“If you hear your name and the words ‘Sip and Bitch’ in the same sentence, run, make sure my wife never gets ahold of a lighter when she’s anywhere near you, and fire your agent.”

I laugh at Bodhi’s advice, spinning my baseball cap around backward on my head as he lounges in his seat of the idling golf cart with one hand resting on the steering wheel.

“He’s not that bad once you get to know him. Which one was your wife?”

“The pregnant one wearing a Radiohead concert shirt, with the faded blue hair that’s grown out, and a side-eye that makes you feel like someone just kicked you in the balls.” Bodhi smiles like he’s the luckiest guy in the world.

“I should be afraid of your pregnant wife?” I ask, returning his smile.

“Oh my God, man… you’re gonna die.” Bodhi laughs and shakes his head at me, pulling a piece of paper out of the back pocket of his cargo shorts. “Here’s my cell number. I also provide quick getaway services for any bro in need, but if my wife answers, pretend you’re my weed dealer.”

Bodhi gives me a fist bump.

“Oh, and just dare Emily to pretend to be your girlfriend. She’ll have no choice but to accept. She literally can’t turn down a dare.”

With that, he takes off away from the curb, leaving me more confused than I was before I asked him for advice.

With the thumping base of Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” and the flashing disco lights of the golf cart fading off into the distance, I start to worry if this is the absolute best idea ever, or if Bodhi’s right and I really am going to die.

Thinking about the smell of Emily’s skin, the way her hand felt pressed against my chest, and just how fun it would be to get to hang out with her again—even if it’s just for a little while, and even if it’s just pretend—makes me realize it would be a wonderful way to die.

Shoving Bodhi’s number into the pocket of my joggers along with my hands, I stroll up the walk to join Tyler in the lobby, enjoying the ocean breeze coming from the vast darkness on the other side of the hotel this late in the evening. Whistling a little DMX as I go, I wrack my brain trying to come up with some way to get Emily to stop hating me long enough to jump on board the fake dating train.