sunset, the sand and the high bluffs behind it practically glowing in the evening light. Surfers riding the waves seemed to skim over swells of molten gold, and when Jason looked up at the sky, his breath caught in his throat; the sun looked huge, a pulsing orange orb that appeared to be sinking directly into the ocean a few miles away. Jason almost expected steam to rise when the fiery circle hit the water.
Orangey-pink light glinted off the dark wood decks of the yacht, a sixty-foot-long vintage Chris-Craft Commander in pristine condition. Between the sunset, the cool ocean breeze, and the gleaming chrome and wood of the yacht, he felt as if he’d stepped into some kind of fantasy world.
“Kissabull?” a laughing voice demanded behind him. Jason turned and saw Belle balancing a tray of drinks in one hand. She was barefoot and wore a bikini top with one of those skirts that is basically a piece of cloth and a knot. Plus, the little diamond glittered next to her belly button, and silver rings shone on a couple of her toes.
“Aren’t I, though?” Jason asked, not sure what she meant.
“Wait. No. For you, a Malibull. Cause you’re new to Malibu. Ever had one?” Belle asked as she selected a pale green drink from the tray and handed it to him.
“This will be my first,” Jason admitted, suspecting he hadn’t been missing much.
“It’s MIDORI, pineapple juice, and Red Bull,” Belle told him. “If you don’t like it, the Kissabull has Grape Pucker and the Bullionaire has gin, o.j. and cranberry juice.”
“Practically a sports drink, then!” Jason said with a grin. He took a sip of the drink, a weak, sweet concoction, with only the tiniest bit of a kick. It tasted exactly like something he’d expect Belle to serve. He smiled at her. “Thanks.”
“I live to serve. But only the first round. Then the crew takes over.” Belle moved on with her tray.
A moment later, Harberts took her place in front of Jason. He shook his head when he saw the drink in Jason’s hand. “If you’re trying to get a buzz, I should inform you that that thing is only a few steps above nonalcoholic beer.” He shook his glass. “Vodka tonic. Now this is a drink.”
Jason grabbed Harberts’ beverage and took a pull.
“Hey!” Harberts protested.
Jason grinned. “I’m doing you a favor.” He handed Harberts the Malibull. “You’ll thank me at practice on Monday. Don’t want a repeat of last week.”
“Aaron, I’ve been looking for you.” A tall girl in a shortie wet suit sauntered over to them. “You said you’d snorkel with me.”
“I thought you meant the kind of snorkeling we did at Brad’s party,” Harberts joked.
The girl gave him a playful slap on the arm. “I’m Maggie, by the way,” she told Jason as she twisted her long, golden-brown hair into a bun at the back of her head. “Since Aaron’s too rude to introduce us.”
Harberts rolled his eyes. “Maggie’s on the girls’ relay team. A medley swimmer like us,” he said. He ran his hand down the form-fitting neoprene that fit Maggie like a snake’s skin.
“I should have known you’re a swimmer,” Maggie said. Her hazel eyes meandered over Jason’s body. “You’ve got the build for it. You want to be my snorkeling buddy if Aaron isn’t—”
“Aaron is,” Harberts interrupted. “And Jason has plans of his own.”
Jason took the hint and wandered to the other side of the deck. This yacht left plenty of room for wandering. He spotted Luke Archer standing by himself, as usual, and staring into the foamy white wake. “Hey,” Jason greeted him. “I didn’t expect to see the mysterious school loner at a party. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you away from our lunch table.”
Luke’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Sometimes I like to do the lonely-in-a-crowd variation. Just to mix things up.”
“First time I’ve seen you without a book in your hands, too,” Jason commented, leaning on the rail next to him.
Luke pulled
Orangey-pink light glinted off the dark wood decks of the yacht, a sixty-foot-long vintage Chris-Craft Commander in pristine condition. Between the sunset, the cool ocean breeze, and the gleaming chrome and wood of the yacht, he felt as if he’d stepped into some kind of fantasy world.
“Kissabull?” a laughing voice demanded behind him. Jason turned and saw Belle balancing a tray of drinks in one hand. She was barefoot and wore a bikini top with one of those skirts that is basically a piece of cloth and a knot. Plus, the little diamond glittered next to her belly button, and silver rings shone on a couple of her toes.
“Aren’t I, though?” Jason asked, not sure what she meant.
“Wait. No. For you, a Malibull. Cause you’re new to Malibu. Ever had one?” Belle asked as she selected a pale green drink from the tray and handed it to him.
“This will be my first,” Jason admitted, suspecting he hadn’t been missing much.
“It’s MIDORI, pineapple juice, and Red Bull,” Belle told him. “If you don’t like it, the Kissabull has Grape Pucker and the Bullionaire has gin, o.j. and cranberry juice.”
“Practically a sports drink, then!” Jason said with a grin. He took a sip of the drink, a weak, sweet concoction, with only the tiniest bit of a kick. It tasted exactly like something he’d expect Belle to serve. He smiled at her. “Thanks.”
“I live to serve. But only the first round. Then the crew takes over.” Belle moved on with her tray.
A moment later, Harberts took her place in front of Jason. He shook his head when he saw the drink in Jason’s hand. “If you’re trying to get a buzz, I should inform you that that thing is only a few steps above nonalcoholic beer.” He shook his glass. “Vodka tonic. Now this is a drink.”
Jason grabbed Harberts’ beverage and took a pull.
“Hey!” Harberts protested.
Jason grinned. “I’m doing you a favor.” He handed Harberts the Malibull. “You’ll thank me at practice on Monday. Don’t want a repeat of last week.”
“Aaron, I’ve been looking for you.” A tall girl in a shortie wet suit sauntered over to them. “You said you’d snorkel with me.”
“I thought you meant the kind of snorkeling we did at Brad’s party,” Harberts joked.
The girl gave him a playful slap on the arm. “I’m Maggie, by the way,” she told Jason as she twisted her long, golden-brown hair into a bun at the back of her head. “Since Aaron’s too rude to introduce us.”
Harberts rolled his eyes. “Maggie’s on the girls’ relay team. A medley swimmer like us,” he said. He ran his hand down the form-fitting neoprene that fit Maggie like a snake’s skin.
“I should have known you’re a swimmer,” Maggie said. Her hazel eyes meandered over Jason’s body. “You’ve got the build for it. You want to be my snorkeling buddy if Aaron isn’t—”
“Aaron is,” Harberts interrupted. “And Jason has plans of his own.”
Jason took the hint and wandered to the other side of the deck. This yacht left plenty of room for wandering. He spotted Luke Archer standing by himself, as usual, and staring into the foamy white wake. “Hey,” Jason greeted him. “I didn’t expect to see the mysterious school loner at a party. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you away from our lunch table.”
Luke’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Sometimes I like to do the lonely-in-a-crowd variation. Just to mix things up.”
“First time I’ve seen you without a book in your hands, too,” Jason commented, leaning on the rail next to him.
Luke pulled
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