“I can’t spend time with her when I’m on duty anyway. Plus, you don’t need to actually do anything — if she sees you on the beach, that should be enough.”
Anaya considers this, her face screwed into a frown.
“Please?” I wheedle. “I mean, it is in the agreement...”
She laughs. “Hanging out on the beach near you? I’m not so sure.”
I press my palms together and sink onto my knees at her feet. It’s a little overdramatic, but she cracks a big smile. “Please?”
She giggles and rolls her eyes. “Alright. Let’s go make Brooklyn jealous.”
20
Anaya
I jog towards the student cabins to grab my things for the beach. I would never tell Wes this, but my stomach flips with discomfort at the thought of spending the afternoon with him and Brooklyn. And not just because I don’t particularly want to see them flirting in front of me...
Ahead, I see Stefi climbing the steps to her cabin. Her long black hair is tied into a high ponytail and her hazel eyes look tired but happy behind her trendy glasses.
I get an idea.
“Hey!” I call as I approach.
She pauses before entering her cabin and shoots me a shy smile. “Hey, Anaya. What’s up?”
Stefi usually hangs out with the high-achieving kids at Edendale High. I’d never really spent time with her, but since being at Legacy Inn, I’ve found her to be super fun and cool. And if I have to spend the next few hours watching Brooklyn flirt with Wes, I’d rather have good company.
“I’m off this afternoon.” I cross my fingers behind my back. Stefi works in housekeeping and has most afternoons off. “Do you feel like hitting the beach? We can work on our tans?”
“Well, I was going to do an SAT prep course…” Stefi frowns and pushes her glasses up her nose. After a moment’s pause, she nods. “You know, I could use some sunshine.”
I grin and a wave of relief flows through me. “Great.”
I bound into my cabin and change into my bathing suit. I’m looking forward to spending the afternoon soaking up the sun with Stefi while watching George’s hilarious antics. But I can’t escape the unpleasant feeling I have about Brooklyn.
The truth is, she reminds me a lot of Isabella and Chloe. She’s rude, arrogant and dismissive. But, while Wes saw right through Chloe, it’s like he has rose-colored glasses when it comes to Brooklyn. I can only hope that Brooklyn doesn’t always act the way that she has around me.
Wes is great. He deserves a girl who will treat him like he’s great.
A few minutes later, Stefi and I are walking towards the Inn to grab iced coffees before hitting the beach. My bag bulges with sunscreen, books and headphones, and I’m wearing a large pair of sunglasses and a sunhat. If Wes wants me at the beach, I’d prefer to sneakily watch Brooklyn flirt with him from a safe distance.
Stefi and I walk the gravel path to the Inn, chatting amicably. We pass Nath, bent over a bed of petunias.
“Hi, Nath,” we chorus.
“Hello, dears.” She beams. “What are you up to this glorious afternoon?”
“Going to catch some rays on the beach,” Stefi replies.
“Catching rays?” Nath looks directly at me, raising an eyebrow. “Or getting a good glimpse of that handsome man of yours?”
Stefi giggles, but I blush. How does Nath know about me and Wes? Word travels fast around the Inn.
“I can’t help that he works on the beach,” I reply with a shrug, keeping my voice level. “This has nothing to do with Wes. Stefi and I are just going to spend time together.”
Nath laughs. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
I flash her a grin. “Still Hamlet.”
“Indeed it is, my dear. Indeed it is.” Nath’s voice is dreamy and faraway.
When we reach the beach, it’s packed with guests — most of whom are suntanning or supervising their children’s sand castles. Music drifts from the lakeshore, where George is leading a handful of older ladies in Aquarobics.
I’m so focused on looking for Brooklyn that I trip over a rogue sandcastle and narrowly avoid faceplanting. Luckily, the child who built the sandcastle seems to be engaged elsewhere and Stefi and I scurry quickly away.
It turns out that I barely have to scan the beach. Brooklyn stands by Wes’s lifeguard chair in a tiny gold bikini that must be push-up, and a purple wrap skirt. She laughs and flicks her blonde ponytail, her eyes sparkling at something Wes is saying.
And Wes looks… happy. His face is flushed and he’s speaking with her animatedly, comfortably.
A pit forms in my stomach. Our plan seems to be working, and I’m happy for him, I really am. In my head, I know that the end goal is for Wes to end up with Brooklyn. But in my heart, I’m having some trouble accepting this.
I stab my straw through the lid of my iced coffee and attempt to push these thoughts from my brain. I need to lock them up and throw away the key. It’s the only solution.
Stefi squints in the direction of the lifeguard chair and frowns. “Is it just me or is that girl putting moves on your boyfriend?”
I laugh, and I’m surprised at how bitter the sound is. “That’s his ex-girlfriend.”
Stefi whistles through her teeth.
I nod in agreement. “I know. Total 10/10, model-worthy perfection.”
“What?” Stefi gives me a strange look. “That’s not why I was whistling. You’re beautiful, Anaya. But more than that, you’re a good person. I was whistling because that girl— she reminds me of Isabella Hall from school. She looks so done-up, so fake.” Then, she snorts. “I’d bet she can’t even swim in that bikini.”
Despite my stomach turning over, I can’t help but chuckle. It’s true, the thin fabric of the bikini looks like it might just disintegrate if it ever comes close to touching water.
“Thanks, Stef.” I whisper, touched. It’s been so long since I had a friend who had my back.
21
Wes
Brooklyn is babbling like a stream, full of excited chatter. I nod along to her monologue and do my best to pay attention while keeping my focus on the water.
Anaya arrived a few minutes ago and set up with Stefi nearby. I could hardly contain my smile when I saw her walk the beach, talking animatedly, and then trip wildly over a sandcastle. Her clumsiness is nothing short of adorable.
My eyes flicker to where she now lies sprawled on a fraying towel. Her white eyelet bikini contrasts against her tanned skin. Her dark hair hangs in a long side braid. If I’m being honest, it’s hard to look away.
“Wes? Did you hear me?” Brooklyn asks.
“Sorry, no. What was that last part?”
“I said,” Brooklyn sniffs. “Cassandra is totally going after the head cheer position and, like, I think that Sadie would legit back her up. She is sooo two-faced, that girl.”
She looks at me for a reaction, and I nod before she continues. “Honestly, I'm not worried. Because, like, everyone else on the team is totally going to vote for me.”
“I’m sure they are,” I agree robotically. To be honest, the conversation doesn’t interest me. I find myself watching Anaya as she talks to Stefi. What is she saying? And is she going to come over?
“Brooklynnn,” a small voice whines. “I’m boooooored.”
I smile at Caitlyn as she tugs at the bottom of Brooklyn’s skirt. She looks like a mini clone of her big sister.
“What’s up, Caity?” I ask while Brooklyn rolls her eyes.
“I want to learn how to dive.” Caitlyn pouts. “But Brooklyn doesn’t want to mess up her hair.”
“Shh, Caitlyn. We’re busy.” Brooklyn rummages in her bag and thrusts a People magazine in her sister’s hands. “Read this or something.”
Caitlyn turns her big blue eyes on me. “Wes, will you teach me?”
“I wish I could, champ,” I say gently. “But I have to stay here and watch the water in case someone needs help.”
“But I need help.” Cai
tlyn looks teary. “I’ll never make the swim team if I can’t dive.”
“I might know someone who can help.” The familiar voice is warm and welcome. Anaya stands next to the lifeguard chair, grinning at Caitlyn. She’s put on a long blue wrap skirt. “I’m Anaya.”
Caitlyn’s eyes widen. “You look like a mermaid.”
“Pfft.” Brooklyn exhales rudely.
But Anaya smiles, ignoring Brooklyn. “I’m not a mermaid, but I am a swim instructor. And I hear you want to learn how to dive?”
The girl’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Yes, please! Can you dive?”
“I sure can.” Anaya looks at Brooklyn. “Assuming that it’s alright for me to teach her?”
Her voice is firm, almost cold, like she’s addressing a particularly unpleasant parent. I’ll say one thing for Anaya, she definitely can hold her own.
Brooklyn’s mouth twists and she rolls her eyes again. “Fine.”
Anaya gives Brooklyn a cordial nod, which is not returned. She then winks at me and blows me a kiss before holding a hand out to Caitlyn. I hold back a smile, but the truth is, I’m nothing short of impressed. She’s managed to appease Caitlyn while also playing into our contract.
“Can you do a backflip into the water?” Caitlyn asks with wonder.
“I can.” Anaya laughs. “But let’s start with regular diving. What do you think?”
Caitlyn puffs out her chest. “Regular diving and backflips.”
“Be careful.” Brooklyn sniffs.
“Anaya will look after her.” I blurt and Brooklyn shoots me a dirty look.
Anaya and Caitlyn stroll away, heading towards the dock. My eyes are riveted on Anaya as she walks and I hear Caitlyn’s excited chatter over the mountain breeze. It’s so nice of Anaya to do this. My heart warms at her kindness.
“What’s with that girl?” Brooklyn sneers.
“Who?”
“Anya.”
“An-ay-a.” I correct her without thinking.
Brooklyn swats her hand like she couldn’t care less. “So what? Are you guys, like, a thing or something?”
She traces a red-polished toe in the sand and I raise my eyebrows. Here it is. “Would that bother you?”
“No.” Brooklyn scowls.
“Good.” I grin. “Because, yes. We are.”
My heart beats loudly and I’m flooded with pride. It feels so good to say that! But surely only because the plan is working. If things continue to go well, Brooklyn and I will be back together in no time.
Brooklyn gazes towards the lake, and I study her features. Her face is carefully composed into a neutral expression, but I know her well enough to see that it’s a mask. Behind the façade, her eyes are slightly narrow, her mouth just a hint puckered. Despite what she says, she’s clearly bothered that Anaya and I are together.
But I take no joy in her annoyance, no satisfaction from seeing her jealous. Instead, I feel… hollow. I thought that this is what I wanted, but looking at her face, I certainly don’t feel victorious.
I shake myself off. It’s probably because I don’t like to see Brooklyn anything less than happy. Brooklyn may have hurt me, but I don’t want to hurt her.
That must be it.
Once we’re back together, it will all feel right again.
22
Anaya
“Music?”
Wes holds up his iPhone. “Check.”
“Change of outfit?”
“Double check.” He points at the backpack slung over his shoulder. My own bag is also stuffed with clothes.
“Snacks?”
He grins wickedly. “Everything I could get my hands on that was mint chocolate flavored.”
I pretend to faint. “I guess I’ll starve.”
“Oh, good.” Wes chuckles. “I love when you need saving.”
I roll my eyes and follow him across the staff parking lot. Wes has been surprisingly coy all week, not giving away any hints for what he has planned for today. All I know is that we’re taking a road trip in search of photo opportunities for our social media feeds. There’s only so many pictures we can post together at Legacy Lake.
Miraculously, we both have the day off, so today is the perfect day to capture some “coupley” photos. I wanted to make a list of spots to visit, but Wes insisted on planning everything. He also insisted on having it be a surprise.
“My lady, your chariot awaits.” Wes unlocks a flashy blue Jeep and opens the passenger door.
“Why thank you, kind sir.” I curtsy emphatically before hopping in.
I click into my seatbelt and look around the car, impressed. The vehicle is brand new, top of the range, with all the bells and whistles. I clasp my hands on my lap, already excited for the day ahead.
Wes gets into the driver’s seat and puts on his sunglasses before starting the engine.
“Nice Jeep,” I remark as we start to pull out of the parking space.
Wes’s face immediately changes. He glares at the steering wheel, his expression dark. His reaction surprises me and I open my mouth to ask if he’s okay. But, as quickly as it arrived, the darkness lifts from his face.
He smiles, back to his usual self, and hands me his phone. “Okay, co-pilot. You’re in charge of music.”
I give him a salute and take the phone. “Are you going to tell me where we're going?”
He grins. “Nope.”
I pull a face at him, then scroll through a playlist titled Road Trip. “You sure have a lot of Taylor Swift.”
He looks at me in horror and slams on the brakes. “Anaya Dewan, you better not be telling me that you don’t like mint chocolate chip OR Taylor Swift. Because if that’s the case, I’m stopping this car right now.”
He shakes a finger at me like an angry mom and I burst out laughing. “I didn’t take you for a Swifty.”
Wes puts a hand over his heart and looks at me seriously. “Loud and proud.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because I love T-Swift.”
“Good, now you don’t have to walk.” Wes winks.
I look out the window. “I even have a theory about her music.”
“And what does this theory entail?”
“If you listen close enough, you’ll find that she has a song for every situation in life.”
“Bold statement.” Wes smiles. “Life sure hands you a lot of different... situations.”
I laugh and a warm feeling spreads across my skin. My theory is probably ridiculous, but sharing it with Wes feels natural and easy. Like breathing.
We pull onto the highway as Taylor Swift blares out of the Jeep’s speakers. As we cruise along, we sing Love Story at the top of our lungs. Wes takes his hands off the steering wheel to dance and I burst into laughter. He really gets into it, hamming it up and goofing around without a care in the world.
The chorus begins and he looks at me, arms thrown wide.
“Keep your eyes on the road!” I squeal, laughing.
He redirects his gaze, still singing off-key at an ear-splitting volume. I sneak a peek at his profile, backlit by the morning sun. He’s dressed in a short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt, cutoff jean shorts and flip flops. He looks so relaxed, so happy — not at all like the sarcastic, guarded boy I met almost a month ago.
Spending time with Wes is like jumping out of a plane and not worrying about the parachute. It’s like you’re enjoying the freefall, not thinking about anything but the wind in your hair, the ache of laughter in your belly, the warmth of the sun on your skin. It’s exhilarating and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
Wes lowers the volume and yells over the music. “Location number one, coming up!”
He pulls off the highway onto a gravel road and parks haphazardly. Then, he reaches into the backseat and retrieves a reusable grocery bag stuffed full. “Come on.”
We trek up a winding path surrounded by dense forest. Wes strides ahead purposefully, managing to gracefully dodge rocks and leap over gnarled tree roots. I stumble along awk
wardly, focusing on not rolling my ankles.
After a few minutes, the forest clears and we arrive in an alpine meadow aflame in a blanket of red and yellow wildflowers. At the center of the clearing is a shimmering pond. Birds chirp and the smell of pollen and pine trees floats on the summer breeze. It’s like heaven.
“Wes, it’s beautiful!” I say breathlessly.
Wes loops an arm around me and pulls me against him. I blush, overwhelmed by his closeness. Then, he reaches into his pocket for his cellphone. “Smile!”
He snaps a series of selfies. We grin. Pull faces. Make peace signs. Stick out our tongues. He kisses me on the cheek.
Eventually, he pockets his phone. “Enough photos for now. I’m starving.”
He retrieves a blanket from his backpack and spreads it on the grass. He hands me the grocery bag and I peer inside. Warmth floods my veins as I scan the contents: Cheese bread. Bottled iced coffees. Peanut butter cups. Banana muffins. Green grapes.
Wes smiles proudly. “I tried to pick everything I’ve noticed you eating over the past few weeks.”
“Thank you.” My voice cracks. It means a lot that Wes notices these little, insignificant things.
Wes laughs. “Anything for my fake girlfriend.”
He sets out the picnic and I twist the cap off a bottle of iced coffee. I take a sip and try to compose myself. “You’re such a gentleman. Your mom taught you well.”
Wes’s face softens at the mention of his mother. “She did.”
“Are you an only child?”
Wes is serious as he arranges the cheese bread. “Yeah. It’s just me and my mom.”
I nod in shared understanding. “It’s just my dad and my little brother at home.”
“What happened?”
I’m surprised — and pleased — by the bluntness of his question. Usually, people skirt around my family situation. It’s not something I offer up and most people don’t know how to ask. But Wes seems to understand what it’s like to have a complicated home life.
The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances Page 24