pointing at her and then at his housekeeper.
“Absolutely,” Rey says, holding up her glass.
“I’ll bring a fresh one,” the housekeeper replies, turning toward the house.
I continue guzzling both Rey’s drink and my own, and I’m tipsy by the time Shields’s other friends start arriving. Rey and I meet an NFL player and his wife, a few wealthy business owners and even an actual princess. I wonder with every hand I shake which of these people, if any, know the real Darren Shields.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Rey murmurs to me when it’s starting to get late.
I nod and take her hand, leading her through the crowd to the beach house door. I’ve been going with her to the bathroom all night and waiting outside the door, because I have a feeling Shields will corner her if she’s alone, and she can’t blow him off while staying on his good side.
“There’s a lot of alcohol in me right now,” I tell Rey as we walk up an open staircase to the second floor of the house, where our bedroom and bathroom for the weekend are located.
She looks at me, amused. “Yes, I think that’s a fair statement.”
The guest room we’re staying in has a spectacular ocean view and a balcony. Once we’re in the room, Rey locks the door behind us and walks toward the bathroom. I’m heading over to the French doors that lead to the balcony when she stops me.
“That’s not a good idea right now,” she says. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll be right back? Maybe have some water.”
I nod, going over to the mini fridge and taking entirely too long to get out a bottle of water. Things are a little fuzzy right now. Thinking about it reminds me of a song from my childhood about Grover on Sesame Street being fuzzy and blue, so I flop onto the bed and sing that song.
Rey’s laughing as she comes out of the bathroom. “So you’re a cute drunk.”
“I’m cute all the time,” I say, looking up at her and patting my lap. “Hop on and see.”
She lies down beside me, curling into my side and whispering in my ear. “Don’t say anything. I’ll be right back and I need you to stay here.”
I turn to face her, suddenly not having so much fun anymore. I lower my brows to communicate my concern since she told me not to say anything. She leans in and whispers again.
“Just trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
I sit up and give her a stern frown, because even though I’m drunk as fuck, I can still see where this is going. Rey is going to snoop through Shields’s shit, and either he’ll catch her and be furious or he’ll corner her and try to get in her pants.
Either way, I’m not cool with being here instead of with her. She leans in one more time.
“I trust you, Jonah. Do the same for me. This is important.”
After a heavy sigh, I nod. Rey nods back and moves to get up from the bed, but I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles as I meet her eyes.
Her lips curve up in a tiny smile and I know she hears my unspoken words—be careful.
I watch as she leaves the room, and then I suddenly feel sober as fuck. Taking my bottle of water out to the balcony, I sip it and look down at the luau. It makes me feel a little better that I can see Shields on the beach talking to some people. His arms are wrapped around two women, neither of them his girlfriend.
He’s an absolute joke of a human being. I can’t wait to get out of here tomorrow, and I dread socializing with him again. But it’s what we have to do, so I’ll manage. It’s not like I can let Rey do any of this alone. Shields invited us to join him on his yacht in the south of France next weekend, but I have games. We’ll have to play nice enough that we get another invite, shitty as that is.
I’ve just finished my water when I see Shields walking toward the beach house. He disappears beneath me, heading in the direction of the door. My heart pounds with worry for Rey, and I take out my phone, considering texting her.
I know I shouldn’t, though. Any traceable communication could break her cover. She’s a federal agent, and I shouldn’t be