Page 1 of Resurgent
Prologue
Charlotte
“Chaz! Where are you going? The party’s just getting lit. We’re doing shots. Want one?”
I shake my head, smiling at Gemma’s rapid-fire volley. She’s slightly drunk, and a guy with washboard abs and a ridiculous tan has his arm slung around her shoulders. Trust Gemma to find the hottest guy on the beach.
“This is Leo. He’s from Texas. And he has a friend,” she adds in a singsong voice, nodding toward a guy in red board shorts swaggering our way. She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes back at her. I’m slightly tipsy, but not tipsy enough to want to meet Leo’s friend. I have a ten-year plan for my life, and it doesn’t include hookups with strangers in Mexico. Gemma can do what she wants, but I, for one, don’t intend to become a statistic or a story on the news.
Gemma would, however, make a great pimp. This isn’t the first time she’s tried to set me up with a guydu jour, saying good sex is the secret to the universe. When I protest, she always argues I just have to sleep with him, I don’t have to marry him. But I’m not taking any chances. In exactly six years and nine months, I’ll consider looking for my Mr. Right—a man who’s steady, reliable, polite, careful, responsible, and likes things as organized and orderly as I do. In other words, my perfect counterpart.
I’m not like Gemma. Sometimes I wish I had her flirtatious, reckless attitude, especially when it comes to guys, but let’s face it, I’m more librarian than sex goddess. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a prude. I’ve had sex before—with carefully chosen, fastidious guys who aren’t likely to have sexual diseases, murder me in my sleep, or want anything serious, but to be honest, I prefer my vibrator. Five minutes on medium (or if I’m feeling particularly wild, the pulse setting) and I’m a happy camper. No mess. No surprises. No awkward conversations afterward. And I stay in control. Just the way I like it.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
“Hi.”
Board shorts guy takes a step closer. “Is your mom a beaver, because daaaaammmmnnn girl!”
“Maybe I’ll take that shot after all,” I say under my breath. Gemma grins as she hands me a bottle of Fireball whiskey she got God knows where. I take a big swig before handing it back.
I turn to board shorts guy. “Aw, that’s so sweet. Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Yeah?” He winks at me and grins, my sarcasm completely lost on him. “Want to go for a walk on the beach?”
“Sure. Just give me ten minutes. I have to go back to my room and take my medication.” Lowering my voice confidentially, I add, “It’s just a minor herpes flare up. Not like last time. My God, nowthatwas a nightmare, although my date took it pretty well. Once the shock wore off, at least.” I pat his well-oiled and muscled bicep. “But you have nothing to worry about. I just need to take my antivirals on time.” I turn back to Gemma, who’s simultaneously shaking her head at me and biting her lip, trying not to laugh. “I’ll catch up with you later. Where’s everyone else?”
“Playing Beach Twister by the bonfire. Don’t be too long or I’ll send out a search party.” Leo leans in to bite her neck and she pushes him away playfully.
“Have fun.” I turn and head toward the direction of our beach house, Gemma’s laughter floating back to me on the ocean breeze.
Except I don’t want to go back. I want…something more. I’m actually more than a little tipsy—I’ve had at least four…or was it five…of the potent cocktails that keep flowing from the bar, which is way more than my usual two. I make it a point not to get drunk. Getting drunk means losing control, and losing control allows things to get messy. Or worse, unpredictable.
Maybe it’s being on vacation, or maybe it’s Mexico, but for the first time ever, I feel a little restless. Or maybe, I think with a sigh, it’s being around McKenzie’s hot Navy SEAL brother Liam. We’ve flirted with each other all weekend. Nothing serious. Just the occasional brush of hands, the slightly teasing repartee. And I swear I’ve caught him staring at me more than once. Of course, nothing’s going to come of it. I mean, come on! A guy like Liam would never be interested in me, and not just because I’m his little sister’s best friend. He could have his pick of women, and according to McKenzie, he regularly does.
But my God! The feel of his hands on my skin when he’d rubbed sunscreen on my back and shoulders earlier this afternoon will fuel my fantasies for months. Maybe when I get back to Charleston, I’ll find a suitable guy for a “date” to get Liam and the hunger he’s aroused out of my system. I have a list of contacts from a financial planning seminar I took for the business. That should be a good place to start.
Speak of the devil. Liam’s walking up the beach toward me, looking like I imagine Neptune, the god of the sea, would look. His feet are bare, his short blond hair is still wet and sticking up everywhere in a sexy tousled mess, and the smooth carved muscles of his chest, shoulders, and biceps gleam in the moonlight. He gives me that disarming grin of his, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and my stomach does somersaults. It’s unfair for a guy to be as good-looking as Liam.
Trying to act casual, I smile back. “Apparently five minutes is too long?”
“What?” He falls in step next to me.
“Didn’t Gemma send you to find me?”
“No. I was looking for you myself.”
“Oh.” My stomach does another little flip.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why, but for some reason my brain and my mouth aren’t working right. We walk along the beach in companionable silence, close enough to the ocean that the warm water laps at our feet.
Liam stops suddenly, his hand on my arm sending a current of electricity coursing through me. “Look at that!” His voice is full of reverence.
I look around, but I don’t see anything. “What?”
“The stars. Aren’t they amazing?”
I follow the direction of his finger and gaze up at what must be thousands of stars blanketing the black sky. How had I not noticed this last night?
