The Girlfriend

Chapter One

Lydia

It was almost easy to forget the media storm in New York. Here in the Bahamas, on Jon's private beach it was our own little world separate from paparazzi and gossip columns. But we couldn't hide forever, even if the small three-bedroom bungalow on the ocean was perfect it, still wasn't home.

We hadn't been home for two months; pretty much immediately after the news broke the guys chartered a plane and got us the fuck out of Manhattan. Patrick didn't even need to go back to argue his case to get paid off – Bower & Rosing's settled instantly and wrote the cheque just to get him to stay away. Jon was technically on a "sabbatical." Patrick and I quietly agreed not to broach this topic with the other man, we both knew Jon wasn't returning to his position as CEO and he needed time to come to terms with that. He also needed alcohol.

I was careful, I watched him closely, I monitored every drink he had and intervened if I felt he had too many – which was becoming more frequent. But he was hurting, we all were, and I knew he needed time to himself to think and rest. Admittedly, this was actually pretty hard to do with the beach house. Sure, there were three bedrooms, but the walls were paper thin and because of its classic nature and lack of renovations the windows were little more than empty holes in the walls that just helped carry noise. This was part of the reason we weren't having sex.

Two months trapped with my boyfriends on a picturesque island getaway, and neither one of them would touch me. I tried to get them to notice the skimpy bikinis, I brushed up against them constantly, bent over a little too far, went without panties constantly. It was like we were back at square one and I was trying to get my boss to feel me up all over again. Only this time we were supposedly dating and also currently living together. No matter what, neither had any desire to come to my bed or have me in theirs.

Today's game of please-notice-that-I-am-super-horny-for-you was tanning naked. I pulled the lounger down the beach, rubbed myself down with tanning lotion and draped myself under the sun. I had scouted this spot the day before; you could clearly see that I was naked from the living room and front porch. The two spots where either man was most likely to sit. Allie thought the plan was perfect, though she also suggested masturbating on the beach, I wasn't keen on that part.

"Did you finish getting everything moved in today?" I asked, cracking open the bottle beside me.

"I did. Vicki wasn't much help, she mostly stood around all doe-eyed," Allie replied with a huff. Her voice came through slightly crackly from the bad reception.

Combined with the crashing waves, I could hardly hear her. "I don't know why you expected a model to do anything else. She gets paid to stand there and look pretty."

"True, but since we're moving in together, I thought she would be at least mildly helpful."

I snorted and shifted my sunglasses down. The sun was starting to go down now and it was right in my eyes. "Anything new I should know about?"

"No, not really it's all the same recycled stuff." She paused. "There's a lot of speculation that Jon is actually getting divorced now though."

I frowned and glanced back at the house, but I couldn't see him. "Weird. I don't know how true that is though, honestly, we haven't talked much about her." Christine. I felt bad that she was also being hounded about our relationship, scumbags asking her if she knew about us. "We haven't talked much at all."

"Speaking of parental figures," Allie continued. "Mom wants to know when you're coming back to New York."

I rolled my eyes at her dig. "I don't know yet, there's no set date really. Just kind of when we think it's time."