I snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and then plopped down on the couch opposite my grumpy bodyguard. When he put his phone down, I asked, “Did you sleep?”
His face remained blank as he leaned back.
“You hungry?”
Silence.
Nodding, I sent an “I miss you” text to Luca and turned to watch the sunrise.
TWENTY-ONE
“So many speedos.” Miranda sighed dreamily. She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and smiled at me. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Of course.” I took a sip of my margarita. “You’re family.”
“Why does that sound like a threat?”
“Because it is,” Jazz, Imani, and Adriana said simultaneously, then burst into laughter.
I shot them a playful glare. “Shut up. You love me.”
“We do.” Imani smiled up at me from where she lay on her belly on a beach lounger. When she reached for her cup, a colorful flower tattoo peeked out from under the low-cut back of her plum one-piece swimsuit.
Ashley reached for the pitcher of margaritas, stopping when she was leaning over Imani. “You have a tattoo?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I mean . . .”
We all shared a look, not sure what to say. The silence grew awkward, and we all shifted in our seats. The smile on Imani’s face fell.
“Baby—”
“No!” Imani shoved up, adjusting the top of her strapless swimsuit so her small chest was completely covered. She stood, resting her hands on her wide hips. “You guys think I’m boring.”
Maybe it was the tequila, or perhaps it was because none of us knew what to say, but not one of us told her she was wrong. Imani wasn’t boring, but she wasn’t exactly the life of the party, and that was okay. We all loved her for who she was.
She stomped her foot in the sand, and Jazz approached her slowly. “I’m not boring,” she gritted out as she scowled at all of us.
Jazz took off her sunglasses and gazed down at Imani. “I know you’re not boring.” The heat of Jazz’s stare rivaled the sun beating down on the beach. She ran her fingertips down Imani’s arm, then laced their fingers together.
Imani tucked her lips and shook her head, her black spirals falling free from the scrunchy she’d stolen from my beach bag. Yanking her hand free, she stomped off, a confused Jazz in her wake.
“What just happened?” Miranda asked.
Ashley adjusted in her seat to have a better view of the beach. “No idea.”
Imani approached a guy near the water, Jazz looming behind them, occasionally glancing over her shoulder at us. Money exchanged hands, and Imani made a beeline back to our group.
“Incoming,” Sarah mumbled as she sipped her lemonade.
“There!” Imani thrust a baggie of smelly weed in Ashley’s face. “Now, who’s boring?”
Ashley’s eyes went wide.
“Now, let’s smoke this shit!”
I gasped. I literally gasped. Imani didn’t curse. She never got riled. “O-okay.” Taking the small bag, I frowned. “Do you have papers or something?”