I threw her a grin. “But you asked so nicely before.”
I wrapped my arm around her waist, thrusting her to me, crashing her lips against mine wet with her. My free hand dove between her thighs, finding her swimsuit still pushed aside. As our tongues met, I fingered her deep, hard, and fast, but only for a second, before I stopped.
More confusion muddled her pretty clay eyes.
“I don’t want to torment you, Abigail,” I said, licking her off my fingers.
Realization gave way to anger, and she clenched and unclenched her fist. I thought she might throw something at me, but she only exhaled and raised her chin.
Her eyes glittered, and she adjusted her swimsuit. “I’ll get you back, Theo.”
I grinned. “Looking forward to it.”
ABIGAIL
I would get revenge on Theo. I couldn’t think about anything save him all damn day, and he knew it. He had the smuggest half smile on his face. Not even “accidentally” kicking sand in his face took it away. He’d just brushed the grains out of his eyes like he knew why I’d done it.
By the time the sun was setting in a violent sapphire-violet, I almost had an idea of what I would do. He needed a taste of his own medicine, and I couldn’t do that on this fucking island. Gemma and Gray always snuck off the island, and I never asked to go out with them. They never wanted me, and I didn’t feel like taking that hit to my ego.
Revenge might be worth it.
At dinner, we sat outside beneath the rising stars with the breath of salt air. When I sat next to Gemma, she looked like I’d spat in her food. We always made sure to keep at least one seat between one another or, if you were Gray, you claimed an entire side.
“Wait for me tonight,” I whispered. Gray looked up from his phone at my words, the same look Gemma had written across his face.
“Um, what?” Gemma asked at last.
“You’re not invited,” Gray said slowly, like he was teaching algebra to a toddler.
“Just save a spot for me on the boat,” I hissed. I could tell Gemma was about to not so kindly repeat what Gray had said, so I added, “Or I could tell Mom…” I glanced down the table to where she was eyeing her bouillabaisse like someone was about to get fired.
Gemma’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Fine.”
“Abigail…” my mother trilled. “The Harlingtons will join us in Switzerland this year for an unofficial engagement party.”
I was still smiling from my win with Gemma when she spoke. How could I have gone so long without thinking about my marriage and my fiancé? I was supposed to meet him, and when I didn’t, when everything happened… I got swept away.
I glanced at Theo. He gave nothing away. If he cared I was getting married, he didn’t show it. Beneath the table I rolled T2 between my fingers. I looked at my stew, picking at the fish and onions and tomatoes with my other hand.
“My fiancé didn’t even bother showing up to the Fourth,” I muttered.
Mom glanced at me. “Lying is very beneath a Crowne, Abigail.”
“He didn’t!” I dropped my spoon with a clang. “Am I really supposed to marry someone who doesn’t fucking show up when they say they will? How will I recognize him on my wedding day? What if I accidentally fuck the usher?”
“Let’s be honest,” Gray said. “It won’t be an accident.”
Mom had gone quiet, the time it took for her to speak counted by the waves.
“I think you’re done eating,” she said at l
ast.
I didn’t argue. I pushed away from the table with so much force my bowl toppled over, spilling red stew onto the soft satin linen. Theo followed me quietly back inside.
Theo and I didn’t speak at all after dinner, and I almost didn’t go through with what I’d planned. But what choice did I have, really? If I didn’t, we would be stuck together with the third wheel that was my unmet fiancé.
The reality that was being a Crowne.