Heather admitted while heat bloomed in her cheeks.
“Oh please. We’re family. Not like shit’s never happened where we found the other in embarrassing situations before,” P.J. reminded her.
Oh yeah. True.
The memory of waking to Morgan, drunk, peeing in her closet when they’d all roomed together came back, as did the awkward flashback of J.D. during Mardi Gras 2010. They’d all pooled their money to bail him out after he and some other drunken partygoer had fought over the same strand of rainbow-colored beads. You would have thought the tiny round balls were made of diamonds instead of plastic with the way the men went into an all out street brawl. In the end, the truth came out—they were both vying for the necklace for the topless chick behind them.
Ah, fun times—not.
Dressed, she snuggled down under the bed’s soft, thin coverlet. Crisp, clean linen always lulled her into sleep.
“You’re right. They have done plenty of stupid shit.”
“Yep. You and I could do a stupid something every day of the week and still never catch up to their level of stupid stunts. Okay, I’m heading back to Morgan. I’ll catch ya in the morning.”
“Speaking of Morgan, when we get back and things settle, I want you to spill the deets.”
“You sure you want to hear all of them?” P.J.’s wicked smile told her no.
“Go.” She swatted P.J. on the ass as she moved to leave.
Seeing her friends so happy made the trip, even the loss of her texting buddy, all worthwhile.
Speaking of. She grabbed her cell off the nightstand, unplugged the cord, and powered up. Nope. No new messages.
Whatever.
A punch to the feather pillow, and she lay down, sinking into the bliss of the extra-soft bed the island featured.
* * * *
The bell to their hut jingled, signaling Khara or the Marquis most likely stood outside. There’d been no further encounters with the Marquis, though he’d not in any way avoided her. Quite to the contrary, he’d eaten an evening meal with her once he’d made his rounds of the room inquiring to the guests’ happiness with their visits. He’d even invited her to lunch with him, but with the sudden absence of Erix, she wasn’t up to any spring-break antics. She was content to bask in the happiness of her friends and daydream about the stud in the hidden hut.
She glanced at her watch—nearly noon. Hell’s bells, she’d almost slept the entire day away.
Footsteps bounded toward the door and she recognized the steps as J.D.’s. Grabbing a robe off the bottom of the bed, where she’d left it after her evening streak, she joined the others at the door.
“Tonight will be a masquerade event beachside. All visitors are requested to join, and since you were a contest winner, you receive special armbands for you and your guests that will allow for free drinks,” Khara announced with a hint of excitement as she handed over the four wristbands. Normally Khara’s demeanor remained devoid of any emotion, maybe to help prevent any unintentional attachments.
“Like true costumes? Masks, the works?” J.D. asked.
“Yes. Whatever costume you wish, or just a mask. The only requirement is you try to hide who you are.”
“Shoot, I didn’t bring anything even close to a costume,” P.J. commented.
“As this is a customary event, not announced until guests have already arrived, we have a costume shop. All sets are free of charge but must be returned before you leave the island so they may be cleaned before the next event.”
“Oh fun.” P.J. bounced excitedly. “Where is the shop?”
“Three huts down from the main office. Have fun.” Khara waved as she headed off.
Again, Heather got the impression Khara couldn’t wait for the party. Deep down, she had to admit the idea of wearing a mask and being anonymous appealed to her on some primal level.
Being as wild and free as she wanted without anyone else knowing.
They only had two more days on the island.
She lied. She wasn’t content. She
“Oh please. We’re family. Not like shit’s never happened where we found the other in embarrassing situations before,” P.J. reminded her.
Oh yeah. True.
The memory of waking to Morgan, drunk, peeing in her closet when they’d all roomed together came back, as did the awkward flashback of J.D. during Mardi Gras 2010. They’d all pooled their money to bail him out after he and some other drunken partygoer had fought over the same strand of rainbow-colored beads. You would have thought the tiny round balls were made of diamonds instead of plastic with the way the men went into an all out street brawl. In the end, the truth came out—they were both vying for the necklace for the topless chick behind them.
Ah, fun times—not.
Dressed, she snuggled down under the bed’s soft, thin coverlet. Crisp, clean linen always lulled her into sleep.
“You’re right. They have done plenty of stupid shit.”
“Yep. You and I could do a stupid something every day of the week and still never catch up to their level of stupid stunts. Okay, I’m heading back to Morgan. I’ll catch ya in the morning.”
“Speaking of Morgan, when we get back and things settle, I want you to spill the deets.”
“You sure you want to hear all of them?” P.J.’s wicked smile told her no.
“Go.” She swatted P.J. on the ass as she moved to leave.
Seeing her friends so happy made the trip, even the loss of her texting buddy, all worthwhile.
Speaking of. She grabbed her cell off the nightstand, unplugged the cord, and powered up. Nope. No new messages.
Whatever.
A punch to the feather pillow, and she lay down, sinking into the bliss of the extra-soft bed the island featured.
* * * *
The bell to their hut jingled, signaling Khara or the Marquis most likely stood outside. There’d been no further encounters with the Marquis, though he’d not in any way avoided her. Quite to the contrary, he’d eaten an evening meal with her once he’d made his rounds of the room inquiring to the guests’ happiness with their visits. He’d even invited her to lunch with him, but with the sudden absence of Erix, she wasn’t up to any spring-break antics. She was content to bask in the happiness of her friends and daydream about the stud in the hidden hut.
She glanced at her watch—nearly noon. Hell’s bells, she’d almost slept the entire day away.
Footsteps bounded toward the door and she recognized the steps as J.D.’s. Grabbing a robe off the bottom of the bed, where she’d left it after her evening streak, she joined the others at the door.
“Tonight will be a masquerade event beachside. All visitors are requested to join, and since you were a contest winner, you receive special armbands for you and your guests that will allow for free drinks,” Khara announced with a hint of excitement as she handed over the four wristbands. Normally Khara’s demeanor remained devoid of any emotion, maybe to help prevent any unintentional attachments.
“Like true costumes? Masks, the works?” J.D. asked.
“Yes. Whatever costume you wish, or just a mask. The only requirement is you try to hide who you are.”
“Shoot, I didn’t bring anything even close to a costume,” P.J. commented.
“As this is a customary event, not announced until guests have already arrived, we have a costume shop. All sets are free of charge but must be returned before you leave the island so they may be cleaned before the next event.”
“Oh fun.” P.J. bounced excitedly. “Where is the shop?”
“Three huts down from the main office. Have fun.” Khara waved as she headed off.
Again, Heather got the impression Khara couldn’t wait for the party. Deep down, she had to admit the idea of wearing a mask and being anonymous appealed to her on some primal level.
Being as wild and free as she wanted without anyone else knowing.
They only had two more days on the island.
She lied. She wasn’t content. She
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