West End Wonder: A Hero Club Novel

by Sheri Lynn

  She moaned. And not in a good way. More the sound of a wounded animal. “Leave. Just leave.”

  “No skin off my back. I’m outta here,” he countered. But the conviction transmitted didn’t resonate internally. He knew she had to feel like shit. And he hated leaving her in a bad place physically and emotionally. “Sophia…I tried sleeping on that wicker loveseat, but damn I couldn’t. There can’t possibly be anything more uncomfortable than that thing.”

  Her head snapped in his direction and her eyes pinned him. “I bet you couldn’t. You never could deny yourself just one more romp with me. Even when you knew it would destroy me.”

  Low. She always did know how to hit below the belt. This time, she couldn’t stick it on him. She couldn’t blame a thing on him. Nothing happened. He could’ve left. Yes. Only to turn around and come back in a few hours.

  The entire situation reminded him of how her rants in college reduced him to the type of guy no other guys had respect for—the guy backed into a corner by a bitching female. And he reverted by retaliating as he used to. “Whatever, Sophia. You keep on convincing yourself you’re a victim. I lied to you. I cheated on you. I’m just a piece of shit.”

  Planting her hands behind her on the bed, she scooted across the bed, thrust her chin up, and glared at him. If she had clothes on her apparent challenge might have been more effective.

  His eyes went straight to her perfect tits before traveling lower. He caught sight of her naked backside when she marched bare-assed to the bed and collapsed on it not so many hours ago. But until that moment he hadn’t glimpsed her nude front form. It coincided with the rear. Smooth and perfect. She had always kept it groomed, but she obviously now went to a professional and had it waxed.

  Her palms connected with his ribs shoving him back. “Really? From the sounds of it you got a good look at me last night…and no telling what else.” She stood, bumping into him before stomping to the foot of the bed. “And why is there a fucking alarm going off? You had your little fun and are ready to run off to your next conquest?”

  Taking a deep, slow breath, he replied, “I have a dive boat to take out--.” He stopped himself from jousting any further with her. He had enough of that while they were a couple. Grabbing his t-shirt and pulling it on, he planned to ignore her and leave. She threw the bed sheets around huffing before parading out of the room ahead of him.

  Of course, his eyes didn’t comply with his mind. They affixed on her fine ass. She always had an awesome body, but it changed over the years…shifted. Her waist narrowed. Her hips were fuller. He imagined gripping them as she rode him.

  “So, help me understand this. You get invited to a wedding and can’t pass up an opportunity to offer your worldly, king of all sportsman activity skills to make a little cash?” she scoffed as she picked her discarded clothing up from the floor.

  He struggled to remain silent. Her perception angered and disappointed him. Which heightened emotion would burst out of him in a caustic remark? He didn’t know. He wouldn’t give either the opportunity. She hadn’t changed. If anything, she became more pompous and incorrigible.

  Swinging around to face him, her hand shot up covering her gaping mouth. She teetered and gripped the back of a chair with her other hand. Her skin transformed from a creamy pale to a puke green. She rushed past him opening a closet door. Sounds of gagging followed by wheezing indicated the restraint she applied to stall her inevitable session of vomiting.

  His eyes rolled involuntarily. He shouldn’t help her. Staying unaffected and leaving were exactly what she deserved.

  Placing his hand on her lower back he guided her a few steps down the hallway and led her into the bathroom. Almost quick enough. The first splash hit the toilet seat before he lifted it. Going to her knees she leaned forward and heaved. He took her hair in his hand and scanned the area for anything to tie it back. She had yet to unpack so he didn’t locate anything. Shit. He needed to go. He wanted to go.

  Seeing the small basket on the back of the toilet containing customary shampoos and lotion, he noticed the ribbon tied around the top of it. With his free hand he managed to untie it and use it in her hair. “I’m going to get you some water and leave you some towels and cloths within your reach,” he uttered.

  He did as he said and glanced at his watch. Even if he wanted to stay—which he didn’t—he couldn’t. He had obligations. He flushed the toilet. She rested her cheek on the rim of the seat with her eyes closed. He wondered how such a beautiful, seemingly gentle woman could be such a force to be reckoned with for him.

  Wetting a washcloth under the sink, he wiped it over her forehead and exposed cheek. “I have to go. Drink your water and rest today,” he urged.

  She whined, “Uh-huh.”

  Chapter 3

  Thursday

  Sophia

  Sophia slowly and painstakingly rolled to her stomach burying her face in between the pillows. Why had she not pulled the blinds closed earlier? The sun blared in through the glass sending excruciating stabs through her eyes and into her brain. Along with the someone who kept knocking on her door and not leaving?

  “Rise and shine, Sunshine,” an upbeat voice chirped from inside the house.

  Did someone come in? No. Certainly, no one would enter without an invitation.

  The bed shifted as if someone sat on it. The sprightly visitor remarked, “Renee had a feeling you’d be in bed. She was too until Stuart forced her out of it. Too much to do. Too much to see.”

  Nuzzling her nose and mouth into the sheet, Sophia groaned before turning her head and peeking at her unwelcomed guest with one eye. Perky brunette. She would have guessed if she remembered her before seeing her. Sophia’s memories of people she met last night were weak to say the least.

  Bubbly brunette smiled. “There she is. Up and at em. I’m Ellie. Stuart’s sister. I’ll go pour you some juice while you put on your suit. Renee wants all the bridesmaids to convene at the pool area.” She bounced off the bed and skipped out of the room. Renee’s soon to be sister-in-law. Lucky her—haha.

  Just one more reason not to marry thought Sophia. She couldn’t stomach her own family much less someone else’s.

  “You have your choice of juices. Apple. Orange. Cranberry. Which do you prefer? How long do you think you need? I had Alfonso drive me up in a cart and I don’t want to hold him up here if you think it will be longer than five or ten minutes,” yakked Ellie.

  Sophia didn’t think she could leave the bed. Her brain pounded inside her confined skull begging for expansion. Her mouth kept filling with saliva. “I can’t go,” she whimpered. “I just can’t.”

  “You can. You will,” Ellie insisted adjusting the pillows against the headboard. “Sit up and sip your juice. You must have had the notorious monkey la la’s. No one warned you of their danger. They say after consuming too much of the scrumptious potion, monkey la la are about the only coherent words one can form.”

  Great. Nope. No one alerted her of their reckless potency. Her first night on the farcical island and she herself assumed the role of an ignorant tourist. She drank too much. Woke up naked with her ex. Felt so terrible she wanted to crawl in a hole and die. And all in less than her first twenty-four hours. She shivered imagining the worse had yet to come.

  “Come on. Roll over and slide up with your back on the pillows. Drink slow. I’m going to tell Alfonso to come back in thirty minutes,” Ellie instructed and informed.

  Opening the door Sophia exited the steam-filled bathroom. Ellie darted at her from inside the bedroom greeting her. “I hope you don’t mind…I unpacked your suitcase. I put your clothes in the dresser and hung up the items I thought should be in the closet.” Her lips parted revealing clenched teeth and she rocked side to side in obvious uncertainty.

  On any other occasion Sophia would be livid. And voice it. But Ellie’s initiative and invasive actions were appreciated. It meant she herself wouldn’t have to rummage through her bags searching for things.

  “I
appreciate it, Ellie. Thank you.” Going into the bedroom, it shocked her to find the bed made and her poolside articles laid out on top. “You’re just an efficient little thing.”

  “I know. I can be over the top, but Alfonso will be here any moment. And Renee made me promise to get you down there ASAP. We’ve been longer than any traditional ASAP.” Coming up from behind Sophia and brushing against her side, Ellie waved her hand over the bed itemizing the contents. “Bikinis are to the left. Your hats and sunglasses in the middle. Cover-ups, beach bags, and lotions to the right. Oh, and I did see that you ordered the turquoise bathing suit Renee provided the links for. I know she planned to confirm with us all that we did.”

  The urge to climb back on the bed and sleep off her hangover into the next day struck her so hard. She gazed at the things on the bed but couldn’t muster any energy to take any action.

  Ellie thrust another cup of juice at her. “Sip on this.” She went to the bathing suits and pulled out a green bikini. “Put this on. You can wear the green floral kimono I hung in the closet. I’ll get your flip flops, a hat, and put on a pair of those oversized sunglasses.”

  Sophia shook her head and forced some juice down her rebelling throat. Her hair still wet from the shower didn’t require any special attention. It’s not like she even owned a hair dryer. Natural wavy hair and a blow dryer aren’t an attractive combination. Not unless one enjoyed resembling an apricot poodle.

  Somehow, she made it to the pool. Ninety minutes of listening to Renee and the other bridesmaids chirp about their itinerary over the next three days, Sophia started to feel better. Not amazing. But somewhat functional. Peeling her sweaty body from the lounger, she joined Ellie in the pool. She walked in going up to her chest in the cooler, not cool, water.

  “There are a lot of great things planned. Don’t you think?” asked Ellie. “I’ve never been interested in getting scuba certified, but with the ‘West End Wonder’ as the instructor…I’m seriously considering it. What about you? He makes me wonder all kinds of bad, bad things.”

  West End Wonder? Ellie stared out past Sophia. Turning her head, Sophia saw a dive boat coming toward the dock. Trevor stood up front, a rope in hand ready to tie it up. She swore he looked like a Greek god. Bronze skin. Long hair. Pure man. Masculinity overload. Bobbling her head to shake herself free from eyeballing him and break her trance of ridiculous admiration, she questioned, “Trevor? Did you call him a ‘West End Wonder’? Isn’t he just part of the wedding party? Hitting up Renee for some extra cash and the opportunity to exploit his outdoorsy skills?”

  Ellie’s eyes narrowed. “Huh?” She scrunched her lips and made a face like she smelled some serious shit. “If the stud stepping from the boat is Trevor then we all refer to him as the West End Wonder. He is a friend of Renee’s, but he lives here on the island and owns West End Wonders. It’s the most popular dive shop and offers many different activities and excursions. He’s basically a legend on Roatán.”

  Owns a shop. Legend? He did it. He followed his dreams and became successful. Well, depending on your definition of successful. But he made a name for himself doing what he loves. And she insulted him. Big time. Fuck.

  “Renee even changed the original date of her wedding in order to book him for dives, etc. And if you ask me, it’s been a great investment. All of us ladies enjoy having him for eye-candy…if not the boat outings.” Swimming to the steps, Ellie left the pool. “Come and position your chair with the rest of us. You seriously don’t want to miss the show.”

  Good God. He probably enjoyed the attention of drooling chicks. She imagined him smirking and ramping it up for his daily performances. Sophia always expected he would settle somewhere in the mountains. The slopes. With ski bunnies to warm him at night. Apparently, he discovered babes in bikinis were more to his liking.

  Sure enough, all the gals, including Renee, lined up their chairs facing the pier. How disgusting? As if he didn’t know he had the face and body of most girl’s fantasies. She would have no part of contributing to his oversized ego.

  Diving beneath the water, she kept her back to the show in progress. Only when she heard the girls shouting out the number ten did she circle and see the signs they waved in the air above their hands. They were rating him. Could it get any worse?

  “Why don’t you come out and join us, Sophia? Come pour yourself another screwdriver,” Renee suggested.

  Screwdriver? “Ellie. You were having me drink vodka. Knowing I felt like shit and couldn’t imagine drinking anything with alcohol most likely the remainder of the trip,” accused Sophia.

  Ellie tilted her head toward her and gave her decent puppy dog face. “You feel better, don’t you? Just a li’l hair of the dog. It’s physically impossible to have a buzz and a hangover at the same time.”

  Everyone, except Sophia, laughed. And agreed.

  “Oo oo, here he comes.” One of them announced. A flurry of legs and arms flapped about as their re-arranging and repositioning into an array of poses commenced.

  “Alright all you lovely ladies. For those of you who completed the test…and passed we are going out an hour earlier in the morning because I won’t be taking the afternoon dive. We all have plans. So, eight a.m. sharp. Don’t be late,” informed Trevor.

  Sophia tried not to look at him. She tried really hard. But her eyes didn’t cooperate. They veered in his direction. He squatted in front of the group. His forearms resting on his perfect thighs. She swore his eyes moved to her when he added, “Don’t forget. We take out snorkelers too. Anyone is welcome.”

  Interesting. She did snorkel. Crap. Did she want to go? Regardless, she first needed to apologize to him. And what if her thinking his eyes went to her was nothing more than wishful thinking. And why would she wish that? In truth, it made her happy he did well for himself. He didn’t deserve her slights.

  He did get her home last night. He claimed nothing happened. And she knew it didn’t. When one had sex with Trevor—they knew it. He truly didn’t do anything half-assed. Especially sex. And he fastened her hair back that morning while she barfed.

  Time to eat a little crow. He stood and headed back toward the dock. Getting out of the pool, she slipped on her kimono and shoes and followed. “Trevor,” she hollered before he reached the pier.

  He stopped and turned to her. He didn’t move. He made no attempt to meet her halfway. He stood with annoyance written on his handsome features and in the stiffness of his body.

  Sighing, Sophia apologized, “I am sorry for my insinuations this morning. It was rude and uncalled for.”

  Crossing his arms across his chest, his head tipped, and he pinned her with his hazel eyes. He appeared to be expecting more. More what? Did he want her to grovel? Not gonna happen.

  She shrugged. “That’s all. I wanted to apologize. I did.”

  He shook his head and blew a burst of breath through his lips. “That’s all. As if you’re dismissing me or something. Why don’t you try telling me what exactly you are apologizing for? If you ask my opinion--,”

  “Which I didn’t,” Sophia interrupted.

  Rocking away from her, he put his back to her and lumbered away. And it bothered her. Her apology concluded in a huge fail. She should leave it alone. Leave him alone. But whatever feeling she had would nag her. What feeling did she have exactly?

  “Trevor. Stop,” she pleaded. He didn’t stop. Lifting her chin to the sky, she rolled her eyes and closed them before continuing. “Please, Trevor. I apologize for all of my unflattering behavior this morning. For assuming you took advantage of me. For accusing you of using Renee’s wedding for your personal financial gain. I obviously drank way too much. Can’t remember shit. And I felt like death.”

  He stopped but didn’t turn back around. “How are you feeling now?” he asked.

  That’s what he wanted to know? “Better. I suppose,” she replied.

  Lifting his left wrist and eyeing his watch, he stated, “It’s three-thirty now. I’ll pick you up at fi
ve. Let me take you down to West End. Show you around. Get some dinner. That gives you ninety minutes to get ready. And keep in mind…we’re on an island. No need to get all dolled up.”

  She watched him resume his trek. She replayed his last words over and over in her mind. He wanted to take her out. She guessed he accepted her apology.

  Chapter 4

  Thursday Night

  Trevor

  Trevor paid Isa’s teenage son to wash and clean out the truck for him. Isa had a souvenir shop next to West End Wonders. Sophia most likely didn’t remember her disgust and dismay at riding in his small pickup the night before. Receiving an apology from her softened him. Yep. That’s exactly what happened.

  He couldn’t recall ever receiving an apology from her for anything during their relationship. Nope. He did it enough for both. And he wanted her to have a good time that night. If she turned her nose up at the truck, the evening would deteriorate into the tit for tat dates, which contributed to the demise of them.

  The events and spewed hatred between them over their final months together still haunted him. He never believed the worst could ever happen to them. They were stronger than most. More in love than most. More in lust—damn. If his damn dick would stop countering the multitude of arguments his mind offered for keeping his distance from her, he would be stretched out on his couch vegging to some stupid comedy.

  But no. First his eyes betrayed him. They were the instigator. They snuck a peep of her in the pool. Her usually wavy hair lay flat against her wet shoulders and back. And the damn green bikini. Fuck. So, his eyes relayed the sensual desire to his cock. His body still wanted her. It craved her cool skin pressed against his. The small pants she made and the way her forehead crinkled and visible tension across her eyelids as she came—he couldn’t deny his body held onto the enjoyable memories.