Knot So Lucky (Destination Love, #1)(32)

She laughs and nods.

“Fair. One-K down, twenty-nine more to go.”

She takes a sip of her coff-tail as her phone buzzes, drawing her eyes down and mine to what she’s doing.

Her head pops up, excitement written on her face.

“Guess what?”

“What?” I answer playfully.

“Turntable Tony is doing his thing down at that club here. The one we were at the other night. I didn’t even know there was a pool outside. But there is, and they do a pool party day club kind of thing. He has bracelets for us.” Her eyes lift to mine. “How do you feel about ending our weekend off with a bang, baby?”

My choices are to stay cooped up in this room, waiting for the husband I never wanted, or to party with my friend for the end of our weekend. Duh.

“I feel like we need to get our bikinis on because it’s party time, bitch.”





An hour later, Millie and I are in a cabana…charged to the room. Stacked with food, water, and bottles…charged to the room. Wearing the cutest red, white, and blue ass-out bikinis we could find…charged to the motherfucking room.

I’ll pay him back, but not before I poke the bear.

Millie lifts her phone, catching me off guard and making me laugh as she takes another picture of us.

“Tag me in that.” I smile, grabbing my drink—cranberry juice with a splash of Sprite and a lime twist—before holding it in the air and yelling, “Happy Fourth of July weekend.”

People around us cheer, and even Millie’s DJ points at us. Actually, to her. Hmmm.

“I know you had the worst weekend.” She smiles, gulping back some water. “But I kind of had the best weekend ever.”

I laugh because had I not been sanctioned to matrimony hell, I would’ve said the same thing. We cheers anyway before I smirk at her.

“What’s Turntable Tony’s real name? Because it feels like casual isn’t so casual anymore. When we FaceTimed yesterday, you weren’t at our motel… That means you left after I did when I went to the courthouse.”

Millie flings her arm over my shoulder, completely ignoring me, refusing to answer in a way that makes me one thousand times more curious. All she told me last night was that they had indeed slept together, but my drama took up most of our night, so she was able to stay under the radar.

“I will beat it out of you, Mill Valley. I want all the torrid details.”

She lifts her arms, grinning ear to ear and jumping in place as the beat drops, and everyone in the pool starts creating waves as they jump too.

This sneaky little link.

I’m smiling, laughing, and thoroughly enjoying this moment until my head turns like an obedient dog, as if my name’s been called. Not that I could hear anything over the bone-deep bass taking over my ears. Except maybe I did because my entire body stills.

Oh shit.

Barreling my way is a six-foot-five, shirtless, sweaty, dirt-smeared, angry-as-fuck-looking quarterback flanked by his two sexy besties.

I guess he got the room charges.

The chuckle that escapes is accompanied by gentle taps to any part of Millie I can hit without looking at her, desperately trying to get her attention.

“Ummm, that’s my boob,” she yells humorously.

But I don’t say anything. I just point, then look at her, my eyebrows hitting the top of my forehead. She slaps a hand over her mouth before saying, “Oh shit, the jig is up. Wait, what is he doing?”

I look back to see Crew hasn’t bothered to walk around the pool like a normal human. He’s opted to walk straight through the foot-and-a-half shallow ledge where people are sunning, splitting the crowd as he tromps, shoes and all.

My stomach flips, but I don’t look away as he closes the distance between us, his words as unfriendly as the expression on his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Oh hell no. People in proximity stare at us as they begin to whisper. My hands hit my waist as Millie gives TJ and Nate a small wave, and I narrow my eyes on Crew as I make myself clear.

“Excuse me? You better rephrase, buddy.”

“I’m not your fucking buddy,” he throws back.

So, I snap back as quick. “And you’re not my daddy either, so watch your mouth.”

You’d have to cut the tension with a chainsaw. But I won’t be intimidated…because I’m intimidating. There isn’t a person in the world that needs more than an hour with me to know I’m not available to babysit anyone’s audacity. You have to take that shit home with you.

Crew takes a deep breath, his eyes closing before they’re on me again, but this time, so are his hands as he gently touches my waist, guiding me backward further into the cabana.

Although we’re unseen to the world around us now, he still keeps his voice quiet.

“I have too many messages on my phone from people trying to convince the world that we’re in love, saying you’re making it hard for them to do that. Barrett even sent a fucking messenger to the goddamn field to interrupt my workout.”

What? Wait…what? So this isn’t about the room charges.

I shake my head, trying not to stare at the dirt mark on his jawline. Because then I’ll get lost in how strong and fucking defined it is.

“How am I doing anything to make their job hard?” I push back.