I lock my suitcase back up and dodge into the bathroom to freshen up and change. My hair has been in French braids since last night, and I shake out my locks and pull my hair back into a messy bun at the nape of my neck. I give myself a final onceover, very happy with my last-minute dress purchase, and go back out into the room.
JoAnn is asleep already and is snoring loudly. Instead of one drink, I’m going to need two. And a set of earplugs.
This is going to be a long week.Chapter 24DeanI almost feel bad when I look around the suite. Archer told me he booked this big swanky room because he was planning on surprising Quinn at the last minute to have her come with him. He’d already arranged for his parents to watch the kids and everything.
Quinn has no idea, and it’s going to stay that way. She’d feel guilty neither of them got to go, and she doesn’t need that kind of pressure. She complains we’re all too overprotective of her, but she’s my baby sis. I’m always going to be overprotective.
I’ve been in Miami for nearly an hour already, and still have no fucking clue what I’m going to do. I should have gotten out of Eastwood a long time ago. Put space between myself and everything. Given myself time to clear my head.
I’m here now. And I still have to clear my head, because Mrs. Rogers’s words are still haunting me. I pride myself on not having fears, of not letting shit hold me back. Yet here I am, all the way in fucking Florida because I can’t get Rory out of my head.
I let my half-assed attempt to take her out to dinner be the end of it, not wanting to pursue her more out of fear of rejection.
“Fuck,” I mumble. This is why I hate downtime. I get too introspective and then start feeling. I need a drink. And then maybe I’ll…I’ll…fuck. I have no idea.
But I’m starting with that drink.I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I could get used to this view. The pool is in the back of the hotel, overlooking the ocean. A live band is set up near the pool, and women are walking around in skimpy bikinis.
It’s every teenagers’ fantasy about what Miami looks like. And maybe mine too. I stop under an awning, looking out at the ocean. A woman walks around the pool, stopping at a lounge chair, and looks out at the ocean as well.
Her back is to me, and she pulls her sundress over her head and bends over, neatly folding it at the foot of the lounge chair. I admire her ass without being too obvious. Old habits die hard, and if she’s alone, then I’m going over to talk to her and maybe we’ll—
The woman turns, adjusting her towel like a pillow, and I catch a glimpse of her face. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
It’s Rory.
And now I know why Quinn and Archer wanted me to go. Rory is a nurse at the hospital where Archer works. Of course he’d fucking know she was here. I take a step back, moving next to a palm tree, and look out at Rory again.
Fuck. Me.
Two guys in the pool are ogling over her, obviously pointing as they talk. Another guy gets whacked on his arm by his girlfriend when she catches him staring. Rory has no idea how fucking gorgeous she is, does she?
I watch, slinking back another step so she doesn’t see me. She sinks down onto the lounge chair, stretching her long legs out in front of her. She lays her head back, smile on her face.
Rory is here.
In Miami.
The fuck?
I blink, look away, and look back. Nope. Not imagining this. She’s really here, and anger floods through me. It’s easier to be pissed at Quinn and Archer than deal with how seeing her actually makes me feel. I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Archer a text.
Me: What the actual fuck?
Archer: I need some context here, man.
Me: You fucking know what I’m talking about. Was this the plan all along?
Archer: Still not following
Me: Is Quinn even pregnant?
Archer: Now I’m generally concerned.
Me: RORY IS HERE.
Archer starts typing, stops, and then my phone rings.
“Rory is fucking here,” I hiss as soon as he answers. “This is just the kind of thing my meddling sister would do. But it’s not fucking funny.”
“Slow down,” Archer says and I hear the theme song for some kiddie show in the background. “Rory is in Miami?”
“No, she’s in fucking China. Yes, she’s here! You knew, didn’t you?” I demand again.
“No, I swear. The only people from the hospital that I knew were going was an older nurse and two surg techs. They rarely work with me, so I didn’t pay attention,” he admits. “Rory is at the medical convention?”