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“You should eat something,” she urges. We were the last to arrive for breakfast.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drink last night.”

“Summer, you don’t need to apologize. You were just having fun. And you’ve earned your daiquiris after roasting marshmallows for ninety minutes.” She looks at me curiously, then adds in a whisper, “Between you and I, did something happen with Alex?”

My heart leaps into my throat, where my stomach has been for the past few minutes as well.

“Nope, he just helped me to my room.” I pulled on all my courage to come to breakfast, because I thought he’d be here and I planned on apologizing for last night. Unfortunately, I’m not one of those whose memory becomes unreliable when faced with alcohol. I remember pretty much everything, and I owe him a big-ass apology. Now I just have to find my courage again and go track him down.

“Sorry, I need fresh air. See you later, Claudia.”

When I step outside the building, I inhale deeply. The fresh air tugs at my memory. Me sprinting in the water, then Alex carrying me out of it... while I was unbuttoning his shirt. Another flash of memory, of him helping me out of my soaking shirt, but nothing else. Tingles creep up my spine, not the good kind of tingles either. Drawing in a deep breath, I put on the proverbial big girl pants and head out to find him.

I head straight to his bungalow, but after a few insistent knocks at the door, I recognize defeat. Where could he be this early? I know for a fact he’s not teaching the kids until later. I survey the waterfront and narrow my eyes at a jogging figure in the distance. Yum, I’d recognize that muscular frame anywhere, the outline of his arms. I sit on the porch steps, admiring the view. I might as well squeeze in some gratuitous staring before I apologize.

I only take my eyes off him when he’s close enough to see me looking.

“Morning!” He comes to a halt in front of me, panting, sweat dripping in rivulets over on his face and neck. He’s wearing a tank, which is a damn shame. Why isn’t he one of those guys who runs shirtless? “How is your head?”

“I’ve had better days.”

“I bet.”

“Listen, about last night. I’m sorry about everything.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

I can’t believe I forgot he was in my room and dropped my panties and skirt. My cheeks burn.

“I don’t usually—”

Alex crouches in front of me, his eyes kind and warm. “Hey, I told you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“How can you say that?”

“I’m an actor. I’ve filmed plenty of scenes involving naked women. It’s no big deal.”

Thump, thump, thump! That’s my pride crumbling. Then again, my body is nothing to write home about, especially not when compared to a Hollywood beauty.

I paste a smile on my face and rise to my feet.

“Well, thank you for being so easygoing about it.”

“You’re still embarrassed.”

I shrug one shoulder. “Well, I don’t have your vast experience with naked people, so....”

He steps close enough for me to smell him, and it turns my knees mushy. When he places a hand on my waist, his touch lights me up instantly. “If I strip naked, would that level the playing field?”

“Hate to break it to you, buddy, but remember those scenes where you take off your shirt? And that one where you flashed your butt? I’ve already seen it all.” Personally, I didn’t understand the point of that scene, unless it was to make every woman in the audience swoon. On second thought, that probably was the whole idea. And I can confirm it worked like a charm. I was one of those in the audience, swooning and sighing like it was my job.

“Not up close, not in person,” he says.

There’s about an inch of distance between us, but his body radiates so much heat, it obliterates the safety of the small distance. The only positive part of him being so close and my gaze being cast downward is that he can’t see me ogling his glorious bicep. I can perv at him in peace. Apparently, perving makes use of all my neurons, because I’m scrambling for an answer. A sassy reply. I need a sassy reply. Come on, brain, be of some use here.

“What’s the stripping offer include? If it’s just the shirt, don’t bother.”

“Way to make me feel cheap, Summer. And it’s a full body offer.”


Tags: Layla Hagen The Bennett Family Romance