“You’ve got one week left. That’s not enough time to fix him.” With a pained expression, she struggled to untie her bikini top. “Oh, forget it.” She wiggled her fingers. “I got acrylic nails on my lunch hour, and I literally can’t untie a bow. Can you do me a favor real quick? I just need to get my hair out.”
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped into the tub, resting a knee on the edge. The hot water felt good. “Lift as much of your hair as you can.”
She tilted her head, gathering her hair. “If it helps, just know that he got a lot of support this week. From me, Andre, Dean. We all tried to talk to him, to help him, but he just wouldn’t back down.”
“I wish I hadn’t lost my temper.” Had he, though? He’d been pretty calm around the kid. Calm but intractable. “Or that I’d found the right words.” He tugged on the tie, and then pulled the lock of hair free. “I feel like maybe I should talk to him one more time.” What could it hurt to go over there and give him one more chance?
“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better about this, but I can’t. All I can say is you’ve got thirty-nine other kids who are here and ready to learn, and Walker’s caused a lot of tension in the group. I’ll bet anything, with him gone, the spirit of the whole camp will change.” She glanced up at him with a soft smile.
“Maybe. I hope you’re right.”
Gigi: I’m here.
In her tank top, shorts, and cowboy boots, Gigi stood on Cassian’s porch shivering. Should’ve changed before I ran out of the house. Living in LA, she’d forgotten how chilly it got in the mountains at night.
Gigi: Open the door. I’m freezing!
There wasn’t a single light on in his house, and it was too dark to go exploring around back.
She checked the time on her phone. 8:20. Forty minutes early. He wasn’t home yet.
Gigi: I know, I’m early!
He said he liked to eat dinner and hang out with his guys, make sure they had everything they needed, be there to listen to complaints, so he was probably still at the hotel with them. She’d go there. She shot off a text.
Gigi: Is it okay if I come to the hotel? LMK if that’s not cool.
How serious was she going to take this secrecy thing? She needed to hide their relationship from the public but from their friends and family? That would make it way too difficult. And they had enough obstacles.
Besides, if they were going to be together, she’d like to get to know his friends. It should be safe, since he’d booked the entire hotel for his guys.
Of course, he’d done that in Aspen and look what happened there.
So…what should I do? The frosty air made her breath come out in little white puffs, and she rubbed her arms. She could go home…but she wasn’t ready to see her parents yet. And waiting in the car with the heater on didn’t make sense, not for forty minutes.
You know what? She’d just go to the hotel. Meet the guys.
Yep. That’s what I’ll do.
Gigi entered the lobby of the Owl Hoot Spa and Resort, designed to recreate a hotel from a late eighteen-hundreds Wild West town. She stood there for a moment and took it all in. Gleaming brass banisters led the way up a grand staircase carpeted in red. Paneled walls in a rich, dark wood and bronze sconces gave the huge space a warm, cozy feeling.
The best part, though, was the costumed actors playing the roles of gunslingers, madams, and genteel guests. It was magical.
She texted Cassian again.
Gigi: I’m here. Where are you?
Since he’d booked the entire hotel, he could be anywhere. Heading for the reception desk, she stopped herself. If she asked for Cassian, the clerk would immediately associate the Lollipop with the Bad Boy Quarterback. Yeah, that’s a no-go.
She should have thought about that before racing over here.
Okay, walk around and try to find him or go home?
When she thought of seeing her parents…that was a hard no.
Because her dad didn’t care. She’d expected some kind of remorse, some…guilt. But no, he’d made his decision, and that was that. He’d washed his hands of the whole thing.
He just couldn’t grasp that she and Cassian had a relationship just as deep and…and essential as what he and his wife had.
So what if we were a decade younger?
She needed to see Cassian. Talk to him. Because he was the only person in the world who could understand what she was feeling.
He’d likely be in a group area, so she’d start with the spa. It held a fitness center, sauna, and the pool. Following the brass plate signs, she made her way down a thickly carpeted hallway.
Wheels spun and pulleys rotated, so she peered into the gym, but no Cassian. She kept going toward the pool.
Tomorrow, she’d talk to her parents. Running out like that was juvenile. She would have a real and honest conversation with them, and then put the whole thing behind her once and for all.
The closer she got, the louder the splashing and shouting. Sounded like they were having a blast. Cassian was a good guy, making sure his teammates had fun while they volunteered for his camp.
God, she couldn’t wait to see him. She felt ridiculously excited. She didn’t know how she could stop herself from running into his arms and kissing him right there in front of everyone. Literally the only thing stopping her was the sharp reminder of the Aspen fiasco.
That could not happen to her. It would take just one questionable picture to hit the tabloids for Dale to drop her. And then what would she have?
A bad reputation.
Two very large men pushed open the door and came out of the pool area with towels around their waists, their big feet in rubber slides.
As one of them held the door open for her, he stared a little too long, before breaking into a huge grin. “You’re the Lollipop.”
“I am. Hi.” She offered her hand. “Gigi Cavanaugh.”
“Paul Krunkowski. But they call me Krunk. My sister loves you, man.”
My sister. She was grateful for her audience, she truly was. But…oh, how she craved to be taken seriously as an artist. “I’d be happy to send her some swag, if you want to leave her contact information with Cassian.”
“For real?” He laughed, like he’d just won the lottery. “That’d be awesome.”
The other guy said, “You looking for someone?”
“Cassian, actually.”
“He’s in there.” They held the door open for her.
“Thanks, guys,” she said, as she passed through. The air was humid and reeked of chlorine, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to see him.
Where is he? He wasn’t with the guys sitting around the table. He wasn’t in the pool.
And then she heard low voices. Laughter.
In the corner of the room, she found a Jacuzzi. Two bodies. A woman in a bikini with her back to a man in board shorts.
Cassian.
And that blonde hair? The breasts spilling out of the skimpy top? Amie, for sure.
The shock of it sent her reeling.
Cassian, shirtless, knelt on the edge of the Jacuzzi, his hands on the back of Amie’s neck. She was lifting her mass of blonde hair, the ends wet and clinging to her tan skin.