1
AVA
“What happens in Cancún,stays in Cancún.”
I side-eye my best friend. “That sounds like some bullspit vacation propaganda.” Not to mention a recipe for bad decisions and instant regret.
“So what if it is?” Kayla grins. “You said you wanted to cut loose on this trip.”
I hook a thumb toward the third member of our trio. “I’m pretty sure that was Lexie.”
It had to be. She’s the most laid-back person I know. Case in point, she’s currently guzzling margaritas like she doesn’t have a care in the world, her bronze skin glowing in the late-afternoon sun while I’m covered head to toe in SPF 70.
A pang of jealousy lodges in my chest, but I stuff it down as Lexie’s gaze meets mine.
“Babe, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but if anyone here needs to live a little, it’s you.” She plucks a lime from the rim of her glass and pauses, a thoughtful expression settling over her face. “A little P-in-V action wouldn’t hurt either. When was the last time you got dicked down, anyway?”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I scan the outdoor bar, praying we haven’t been overheard.
For once, luck is on my side.
The music is loud, and while the beachside palapa is filling up quickly, no one is paying us a lick of attention. Most of the newcomers are vying for the bartender’s attention, probably hoping to take advantage of the happy hour specials—thank God.
“Come on.” Lexie nudges me playfully. “Spill already!”
“We are not talking about se—thisin public,” I whisper-hiss.
Lexie snort-laughs. “That long, huh?”
If they only knew ….
“Holy shit.” Kayla’s eyes go wide, and I can practically see the lightbulb glowing over her head. “Is Beau the last guy you slept with?”
My spine stiffens, because even now, two years later, the mere mention of my no-good ex is enough to sour my mood. “He’s the only guy I’ve slept with.”
First, last, and only.
Kayla’s jaw drops, and her gaze slides to Lexie before pivoting back to me. “How did we not know this? We’re your best friends. You’re supposed to tell us everything.”
“I do.”Mostly. “Besides, we had more important things to discuss than my love life, or lack thereof.”
Lexie pulls a face. “Like what? What could be more important than your sexual liberation?”
I shrug. “Homework, politics, season three ofThe Summer I Turned Pretty?”
“Giiirrrl.”
It was worth a shot. The Jeremiah vs. Conrad debate was pretty heated for a minute, but clearly that isn’t going to save me now.
“It’s not a big deal.” I hoist my own margarita from thescarred bar and drain the glass in one long gulp. “And I do not need to beliberated. I have a vibrator.”
One that consistently delivers, unlike Beau.
“It’s so not the same,” Kayla argues. “Which you’d know if you had more experience.” She frowns. “Scratch that. If you had therightexperience. I’ll bet Beau was terrible in bed. No guy who runs around spouting trad-wife bullshit can possibly be a good lover. I’ll bet he was selfish AF in the bedroom.”
She stares at me expectantly, and I fold like a house of cards. Because of course I do. “It was fine,” I mutter, unable to meet her eyes.
“Fine?” Lexie huffs. “I’ve heard you give tea recs with more enthusiasm.”
