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Excerpt:
I am reinventing myself. I’m a ME not a WE. Since I’m no longer Asshole’s fiancée, I can be anything I want to be. I could be a recovering circus performer who left the big top for big adventure. I could be a rich German heiress just waiting on wire transfers—oh wait, that’s already been done.
I could definitely be carefree and happy and not have people look at me like I’m going to crack. I can find myself again. I can be single and happy and unattached.
As we pass a group of oglers, I smile brightly and toss my hair. Instead of looking cool and collected, I am momentarily blinded by the sun and miss the small step to the ramp, pitching me forward into the crowd.
“Shit, Abby. You okay?” Jazz asks, trying, and failing, to grab my elbow.
Luckily, my fall is broken by the person in front of us.
Unluckily, my nose ends up embedded in his ass crack. I grab his thighs to keep myself from sliding down his backside. He clenches his muscles in surprise, but that only makes my face smoosh harder into his ass. I’m sucking in his khaki shorts instead of air, but if I let go, I will faceplant onto the gangway. I hold on until I can get my feet under me and pray I don’t pass out from lack of oxygen. Imagine the headline: “Jilted Woman Suffocates in Man’s Ass on Love Cruise.”
Jazz grabs my arms and helps me stand. I suck in khaki-free air.
“At least buy the man dinner first,” she quips.
The man glances over his shoulder with a frown. I give him a sheepish smile and a finger wave. “Crowds, am I right?”
He nods, lips twitching, and turns back around, putting his earbud back in his ear. The gesture and the way his dark hair falls over his forehead slams me with deja vu, but I can’t think of why. I shake off the feeling. I’m just too mired in memories today.
I can’t help but glance at his backside now that I’m at a distance to examine it. It looks damn good in the shorts he’s wearing. If I had to face plant into a butt today, I’m glad it was a nice one.
“Well, that’s one way to make an impression,” Jazz says, suppressing a laugh as we follow the slowly moving crowd up the ramp to board the ship. “I didn’t peg you for being into ass play. I guess what they say about school teachers is true.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Go on. Get it all out of your system so we never have to mention this again. Like ever.” I groan. “I’m so not good at this flirting thing. I’ll be your wingman and live vicariously through your overly friendly vagina. Just put a sock on the door if you don’t want me walking in.”
“Next please?” the woman at the check-in booth says with a forced smile. Her cheeks must hurt by the end of the day.
“Sorry,” I say, handing over my passport to her. Jazz does the same.
“Welcome aboard, Abigail Winters and Jasmine Bucolo. You will be in Sea Terrace 13090A.”
I'm looking at my room key when a deep male voice startles me. “Excuse me.”
I jump a little and turn to see the man I bumped into earlier. My face heats to match the red carpet of the entrance way.
“I’m so sorry for earlier. I don’t normally grope strangers. I tripped and—”
“It was an accident. That isn’t why I stopped you. I—uh—this is weird, but did I hear your name is Abby Winters?”
I tilt my head at him, the fog of embarrassment lifting. And holy shit. “Grayson Hamilton?”
A broad smile lights up his face, smoothing out the strong angles, and my memories start clicking into place. Grayson and my brother, Alex, dominating the soccer field in high school. Grayson and the rest of Alex’s annoying friends teasing me to no end. Grayson’s adorable, crooked smile. Grayson dominating my fevered teenaged dreams.
He holds out his hand. “Little Breezy Winters. Of all the cruise ships in all the world, you had to board this one.”
I laugh a little too loudly and take his hand. “God, no one’s called me Breezy in years. How are you, Gray?”
Besides really freaking hot. His handsome features—that I used to discretely study more than my homework…but in a not-at-all creepy way—have filled out into strong manly angles. Small lines form around his mouth and deep brown eyes when he smiles. In short, he has aged very, very yummily.
No, I scold myself. I am most definitively on a break from men.
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