Up in Flames(3)

The fact that he knew Sarah’s name and address didn’t surprise me, but the idea that he thought he could get Nan to fall in love with him was hilarious. Nan liked men with model-like faces. Faces made for the movies. Faces like mine. She also liked flirty and sweet.

Cope didn’t have a chance in hell. His hair was so long he wore it in a man bun most of the time, and his facial hair was too much. He needed to shave that shit. Sure, he was built like a brick wall, but he wasn’t at all like me. And Nan liked me. She liked me a hell of a lot. I could tell. Cope didn’t stand a chance of even catching her eye.

If it wasn’t for the fact that I really didn’t want to hurt her, I’d have pushed her one more step and let her love me. But I couldn’t hurt her that way. I didn’t love her. She was more than I needed in my life right now. I had a mission to accomplish first.

Picking up my phone, I sent her another text. Want to walk down to the beach after lunch? Or are you up for a run today?

I could get her to talk without messing with her heart. She just had to trust me. I thought she did or was starting to. She’d have been snippy with me this morning if she had known I was with Sarah last night.

I could use the run, she replied.

Smiling, I texted back. Then we’ll run.





Nan


Some women pouted and sulked. Others tried to make the guy jealous. Then there were those who did the good-girl thing and moved on. Me, well, I just went to Vegas.

The slinky silver dress I had bought in a boutique in Paris last July hugged every curve I had, and I knew just how good it looked. Not that it mattered. Tonight wasn’t about love or anything real. I would dance and flirt and forget them all tomorrow. Vegas was a cure-all for me, grounding me in the reality that relationships never worked for me and that I should stop trying.

My phone vibrated, and I saw Major’s name on the screen. I changed all my settings to silent, then slipped my phone into my Prada wristlet. He had ignored me for two nights too many. Tonight I’d ignore him and get him out of my system with someone else. A real man. Someone with broad shoulders and big arms. Someone who could handle me. Control me. Remind me that I didn’t need to be the strongest person on earth.

When I returned to Rosemary Beach, Major’s pretty smile and charming ways wouldn’t reel me back in. I would make damn sure of that. I wasn’t pathetic, but lately he’d been making me feel that way. Not anymore.

I walked from my room at the Bellagio to a club called Hyde, where some of my friends had a VIP table reserved for the next three nights. I could feel the stares that followed me, which only confirmed that I looked as stunning as I’d felt when I’d looked in the mirror. I was ready for a night of vodka and forgetting.

Knox was the reason I was here to begin with. She was a friend from my brief stint at a Swedish boarding school and was dating Ezra Kincaid, the heir to the Kincaid hotels. This was Ezra’s birthday weekend, and the guest list was exclusive. When I’d received the invitation from Knox, I hadn’t been sure if I wanted to go. I hadn’t wanted to leave Major. But during our lunch date, I’d felt like he was being forced to spend time with me. So I decided to get out of town, which turned out to be a smart move; two days later, I still hadn’t heard from Major.

Tonight I would pretend I had never let him string me along. By tomorrow, maybe I wouldn’t even remember his name.

“Nan!” Knox squealed. I could tell she’d been drinking for hours from her glazed eyes, but she still looked fantastic. Her wild, curly blond hair was pulled back by a candy-apple-red headband that matched the dress she was wearing. I needed to catch up with her cocktail count. She looked like she was having a wonderful time.

“Winter’s here, too! And she brought Roland. They’re engaged now!” Knox chatted away with a slight slur, as she looped her arm through mine and pulled me toward her table. I recognized the faces. They were all part of the circle I’d been raised in when I lived with my mother. Demi Fraser was just on my TV last week in some all-important tennis match that I didn’t keep up with. She’d made a name for herself on the court and now had her own fitness line. Her dark red hair was cropped short, and her nose and shoulders were dusted with freckles from all the time she spent in the sun. She looked great. Which annoyed me. If only I looked that good with freckles.

I walked to the table and directed my attention to the server. “Vodka cranberry.”

“It’s been a while, Nan. What have you been up to, other than shopping in Paris?” Demi was being snide, as usual. She liked looking down on the world from behind her perfect, freckled nose.