She tries to laugh it off

My stomach lurched. The lounger creaked as I adjusted my bikini top—too quickly. "Don't be ridiculous." I **** a laugh that came out strangled.

Bella’s eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. A bead of condensation slid down her water bottle and splashed onto the patio stones between us. "You're blushing."

I pressed my palms to my cheeks—both defense and confirmation. "Of course I am," I scoffed, willing my pulse to slow. "My best friend just suggested I fuck her dad." The words scorched my tongue, but I leaned into them with exaggerated dramatics, flinging an arm across my forehead. "Christ, Bells. I know I’m not exactly a virgin anymore, but that’s going some."

Bella snorted, kicking my lounger with her bare foot. "Oh relax, drama queen. You’re just flustered because—" Her foot stilled mid-air, eyes locking onto the gold rings threaded through my bikini strings. "Wait. That’s new." A slow grin spread across her face.

I curled my toes as she leaned forward, fingering the delicate chain between the turquoise triangles. "Christ, Flick. This is practically just dental floss and hope." Her nail flicked one of the rings—the same one James’ thumb had brushed when he’d kneaded the base of my spine. "Where’d you even get this? Swimwear shop for wannabe pornstars?"

The lounger dug into my hipbones as I shifted, hyperaware of the damp fabric clinging between my thighs. "Mum’s idea of a joke," I replied softly, plucking the tie from her fingers. "Package arrived this morning with some passive-aggressive note about ‘taking advantage of summer’."

Bella rolled her eyes, flopping back onto her lounger. "God, Dubai mums are worse than British ones." She pulled her sunglasses down, peering at me over the rim. "You could actually get arrested for wearing that in public, you know."

I twirled one of the gold rings around my finger, letting the sunlight catch it. "Not that bad," I murmured, stretching lazily. "You'll need something similar when we hit the beach next week." My toes flexed against the warm wood of the lounger. "Unless you're planning to swim in that Victorian nightgown your mum calls a swimsuit."

Bella lobbed her sunglasses at my head. I caught them mid-air—just as the office blinds twitched again. My pulse jumped. James was still watching. The realization sent a flush crawling up my neck that had nothing to do with the sun.

"Right, because your mum buys you stripper-wear," Bella snorted, plucking the glasses from my hands. Her gaze lingered on the bikini strings still damp with sunscreen—James' fingerprints practically seared into the fabric. "Seriously though. You'd better not wear that thing when Dad's around. He'll have an aneurysm."

I **** a laugh, rolling onto my stomach to hide the flush creeping down my chest. The lounger's wooden slats pressed into my hips as I arched slightly—just enough to make the gold rings glint in the sunlight. "Please. He barely knows I’m here."

Bella snorted, kicking her sandal against my lounger. "Yeah, right. Dad’s been jumpier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs since you moved in." She peeled the label off her water bottle with a slow, deliberate scrape of her nail. "Caught him staring at your arse in those leggings last Tuesday."

My breath caught—sharp as a papercut. The lounger creaked under me as I shifted, suddenly hyperaware of the damp fabric between my thighs. "Bullshit," I managed, but my voice came out too high.

Bella flicked the crumpled water bottle label at me. "Swear to god. Frozen in the hallway like he'd forgotten how legs work." Her grin turned feline as she leaned closer. "You should've seen his face when I cleared my throat."

The lounger groaned under my sudden stillness. Sunlight burned through the thin fabric of my bikini bottoms, branding the memory of James' trembling fingers against my skin. "Probably just spaced out," I murmured, tracing the gold ring absently. "Maybe work stress."

Bella's laugh was sharp as shattered glass. "Oh please. He had the same look Gavin gets when you lean over in that tight white t-shirt." She rolled onto her side, sunglasses reflecting my frozen expression. "Didn't realize middle-aged men still got that stupid deer-in-headlights thing."