Oh my god. My boobs are out. All the way out. This is not a mere nip slip; the triangles are under my armpits. Well, it’s not like this thing really covered anything anyways. As I try to yank the two tiny scraps of material back in place, Jonah stands with a hand on each boob, shielding me from the strangers who have now seen my breasts.

“You can let go now,” I say to him.

With his hands still on my breasts, I try to maneuver the bikini back in place.

“Sorry,” he says, giving a gentle squeeze of each hand.

It sends tingles all throughout my body.

Jonah peers at me and I try, keyword try, to look unaffected, as if it's no big deal I just flashed everyone. This is horrifying. Why Jonah of all people? Judging by the expression on his face, he's as horrified as I am. He drops his hands and walks away.

For a moment, I seriously consider swimming off in the ocean, but I muster up the acting skills I've honed since I was a little girl dreaming of accepting my Oscar and head toward the crew.

“It's all good,” I call out. “Boob is back in this bandaid.” I stop beside Jonah, nerves careening through my belly. “Sorry, just lost focus for a second. Get it? Focus. Camera…”

He looks down at me with no laughter in his light-brown eyes. “Yeah, I get it.” He turns to the crew. “Ok, great shoot, everyone.”

Oh, thank God, it's over. A few of the guys leer at me as I throw a wrap around this floss they call a bathing suit bottom.

“That was so much fun,” I lie to Jonah as the crew scurries and begins to pack up.

“Does Declan know you’re working here?” he asks, placing his camera in the bag.

“Of course, silly,” I say, wringing the water from my hair. “He’s the one who told me about the job.”

He spins around to face me. “What? And he’s ok with it? I mean, did you see the way everyone was ogling you? It was disgusting.”

No, it was mortifying. But, I don't care. I need this job.

“Yes, he’s fine with it,” I reply, slipping my flip flops on.

“Why didn’t you guys call me? I could have helped. Or maybe not. I still can’t believe Declan is ok with all of this.”

“Well, I didn't want people to think I only got hired because of you,” I explain. “And why wouldn't he be? It’s not the first time I’ve ever been stared at. I do go to the beach. And I’m not doing anything bad.” I raise a brow at him. “You work here.”

He shakes his head, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “I don’t care. It’s not something a little sister should do. I mean, you’re practically my little sister.”

Way to rub salt in the wound. After all this time, that bothers me a little more than it should.

“Jonah, you’re not my brother. So, stop acting like you are.”

“I’m pretty much your older brother.”

“Even if you were, you still can’t make my life decisions for me. Just like Declan. He has no say in how I live my life.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, waving to a few of the set guys as they pass by.

“Yeah.” He scrubs a hand along the back of his neck. “Listen, modeling isn't my dream. Acting is. But it's not like the jobs are falling at my feet. The modeling pay is great and this frees up a lot of my time for auditions.”

He rakes his teeth along his bottom lip while his eyes lock with mine.

His honey-colored eyes scan my face. “Acting, huh? Is that why you moved back?”

I nod. “Yes. And this job is good exposure for me.”

“I guess,” he agrees, looking as if he doesn't agree at all. He runs a hand down his beard. “Listen, I’m sorry about the whole, uh, boob thing.”

My cheeks heat. “Thank you for looking after the girls.”

“Doesn’t mean I like you working here,” he huffs as he walks away.

What a baby. What a sexy, overprotective baby.

When I saw him today for the first time, I felt sixteen and giddy again. He's still just as sexy. More so. He's a man now—tall, lean, and full of just the right amount of muscle—with a beard that should be considered a lethal weapon. Not a Duck Dynasty beard, mind you, a perfectly trimmed, just beyond scruff beard. No wonder he has the reputation he does. I've heard all about ‘playboy.’ And now, on our reunion, so to speak, he's seen my boobs, nipples and all.

I watch him hop into his black Jeep and speed away. He even drives sexy. Man, what was I thinking? No. I'm not going to berate myself for taking this job. My first week in Hollywood, I learned just what this town is made of.

It’s all about who you know. All about making the right connections. Sure, you hear the stories of a waiter, living in their car, who goes on to become an A-lister. But, just like winning the lottery, the chances of that happening are slim to none.

And my unlucky streak continues.

Case in point: My first day on the job, I lose the top of my bikini and flash the entire set.

Case in double point: When I arrive at the cottage I rent, Ms. Larson, my sweet as pie landlord, informs me she's moving to a retirement community in Florida. The new owners will no longer have a tenant.

I'm officially living the dream, in five days... I’ll be homeless.