“A holiday fling, that’s what you need!”

Oh boy, here we go.

I stared at my best friend over my fancy cocktail glass with the twisty stem and took a long sip of the fruity goodness. A holiday fling was not what I needed. What I needed was endless sunshine, the coolness of the ocean on my skin, stupid amounts of vodka-based drinks, and enough seafood to last me a lifetime. This country girl wanted to live the beach life for a few days and forget about the mess awaiting her return home.

“What about him?” Ebony, my best friend of twenty years, asked. Her eyes locked firmly on the unfortunate soul she’d decided could be my unwanted holiday fling.

My gaze followed in the direction she was staring, and immediately, I shook my head. “He looks extremely happy with the woman sitting opposite him wearing a wedding ring and holding his hand.” I scoffed and sucked back the rest of the potent drink.

For dramatic effect, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest in defiance. “You need to get laid.”

“This trip is not about me getting laid,” I stated matter-of-factly. Well, as matter-of-factly as I could with my vodka buzz. “We are here for Anna’s wedding.”

She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Okay, maybe that’s what got us here, but come on, we know the real reason is that you need to get laid.”

It wasn’t.

Gabby and Ebony do Hawaii had been in the making for a year. Ever since our friend from college, Anna, decided to get married here, we had been planning. We were two country girls who worked hard, never took vacation time, and wanted to dip their toes in the ocean for the first time. Seven days of sun, surf, and cocktails sounded perfect, right? The chance to get all dolled up and celebrate our friend getting married was just the icing on the cake.

One thing for sure was that I could never have predicted when we booked just how much I would need this trip.

Just over a month ago, I’d walked in on my long-term boyfriend balls deep in my work colleague and our neighbor, Petra Jones. To pour a little more salt in the wound, he was fucking her in our bed in the apartment we’d just bought together. Like literally bought two months earlier. The ink of the mortgage papers had barely dried, and the paperwork was probably still sitting in the “to be filed” tray. It was official. Brad Evans was a piece of shit!

Of course, he had excuses and a billion and one apologies. But as soon as he realized I wanted nothing to do with his apologies, he started blaming me. Apparently, I worked too much. I didn’t give him enough attention in the bedroom. My commitment to him was questionable. Blah! Blah! Blah! It hurt hearing that from the man I’d known since I was seventeen, who I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with, but I wouldn’t let him see my wounds. I kept them very close to my chest.

Luckily for me, I had a best friend who let me crash at her house, brothers who were on the warpath to destroy my ex, and this vacation to distract me. I could deal with everything else when I returned, but for now, my focus was on girl time.

“Why are you focused on me? Why aren’t we finding you a holiday fling?” I said, smirking across the table. Ebony, like my brother Kane, seemed to be allergic to relationships. They both specialized in flings with a use-by date.

Her eyes dropped to the table, and confident Ebony disappeared. “I’m trying to be well-behaved on this trip.”

Suspiciously, I stared at her. “Why?”

“Fine! Seeing you forced it out of me. I have my eye on someone back home.”

Did I mention she was overdramatic?

“Who is the lucky lady?”

Ebony was proud and very open about her sexuality, and from her early teens, she knew she preferred the company of girls rather than the boys. I’d never met a person who was as comfortable in their skin as Ebony was, and I couldn’t be more proud of her. She knew what she wanted, who she was, and as far as she was concerned, if the world had a problem with it, the world could fuck off.

“Rosie.”

“Rosie from the bakery?”

“Yes, but this conversation isn’t about me. It’s about you getting back on the horse and fucking Brad-prick-of-the-century-Evans out of your system for good. Your vagina needs to forget what his poor excuse of a dick felt like. I'm making it my mission to find you a dick eraser."

A dick eraser? She'd officially lost the plot.

I was going to need another drink or seven for this conversation. Thankfully, as if the gods were listening, the cute as a button girl who’d been serving our drinks all afternoon popped two fresh cocktails on the table between our sun loungers. But we hadn’t ordered these, and the lethal fumes rising from them confirmed it.

“These are compliments of the man in the red polo at the bar.”

My head snapped in the direction of the main bar, and sure enough, a man was sitting there in a red polo shirt and bright green boardshorts staring in our direction. When he noticed me looking, he raised his glass in cheers and then looked at the cocktails he’d sent over as if silently encouraging me to cheers him back.

Hell, no.

“Can you take them back and thank him? We won’t be needing those drinks, but we will definitely take a couple more of those fruity numbers you’ve been making us.”

No matter how old I got, I’d always remember two significant pieces of advice I’d been given. As a child, don’t talk to strangers. As an adult, don’t accept drinks from strangers.

“Good decision. He’s got that sleazy vibe about him. He’s been making crude comments about girl’s asses and boobs. He’s been ogling you two since you arrived. I thought his eyes were going to shoot out of his head and land on the bar when you both stripped down to your swimsuits. I am more than happy to decline his drinks for you.” The glimmer in her eye told me she loved this part of her job. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“She’s super cute,” Ebony murmured as she watched the cute blonde bounce away from us.

I looked at her with a raised brow. “Thought you were crushing on Rosie?”

“Ease up sister! You barely know I’m into someone, and you’re already dishing out the shade. Can’t a girl browse the menu even though she already knows what she’ll choose in the end? My sampling days are over, but I can still appreciate what’s available without tasting.”

I threw my head back against the lounge chair and burst out laughing. I knew every girl made this declaration at some point in her life, but I truly believed I had the best friend in the world. Through thick and thin, I knew she’d always have my back and be available to make inappropriate comments at the worst possible times and throw me into a fit of giggles.

“So back to your holiday fling,” she said, receiving an eye roll from me. “I’m finding you a man.”

“You really don’t have to.”

She wiggled her brows at me. “Oh, but I do.”

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes under my sunglasses and let the island breeze caress my body. It would take a hell of a man to make me change my mind about this so-called holiday fling. I didn’t even know if I was ready for that. I’d only been single for a month after being in a relationship for five years. Did I even know how to do casual anymore? Why was I even thinking of this? Dammit, Ebony!

“Holy shit! I found him!” she squawked beside me. I rolled my head in her direction and found her bug eyed and locked in a trance. “I’ve never wanted to jump on a dick before, but for him, I’d break my pussy-only rule in a heartbeat.”

Did I also mention that Ebony and I had absolutely no filter when it came to each other? Just like any best friends, we shared everything when it came to each other and our sex lives. Yes, she had celebrities she found handsome, she had a particular liking to Charlie Hunnam, but she was obsessed with Scarlett Johansson. One thing for sure, though, was she’d never had any inclination to jump on a dick, as she so eloquently put it, before today.

My interest piqued. I needed to see the man who could make her question her sexuality.

“Be cool!” she warned as I began to turn my head.

I scoffed. “Cool is my middle name.”

“Babe, I’ve known you your whole life. Not sure I’d use the word cool to describe you.”

I chose to ignore her ridiculous statement and scanned the crowd. Bursts of orange and yellow flooded the sidewalk as a stunning sunset bathed Waikiki Beach. Eagerly, I searched through the crowd to find this unicorn of a man. Don’t get me wrong. There were a lot of attractive men surrounding us, and some I'd probably invite to my bed if the timing was right and I was into one-night stands, but I hadn’t found the man who had the potential to make Ebony want to switch teams.

Just as I was about to give up, out of the corner of my eye, I saw dark, scruffy hair, a glimpse of a shadowed jaw, and a tattooed arm. Something told me it was him. Maybe it was the bikini-clad woman standing at the bar fanning herself while she practically drooled in this he direction. Or the girl who looked barely legal staring at him as her hands disappeared in the front of her tank top to lift her boobs and make them look more appealing to him. To be honest, I was a little disappointed that I didn’t get to see the face of who was stopping women in their tracks.

“Oh, well. It wasn’t meant to be,” I said with a shrug. “Maybe he’ll forever be known as the one that got away.”