The Coldest Summer✓

Twenty-three

I stifle a chuckle. "I haven't said anything, have I?"

"But you thought. I'm sure of it."

Sam stares at us sideways, taking a break from her phone.

Our dinner goes smoothly amid chatting and laughing. We depart immediately after having a little cocktail for dessert. I don't even realize the time when we finally arrive at Malik's house, somewhere near the ocean. How lovely.

When we finally get out of the car, Jamal greets us once again. Oh, he's fast. I think he had to arrive here first, and that's why he left solo from the airport. He carefully takes our luggage in one go, except Liam's duffel bag which he carries himself.

"Sweetie, what do you have to say about this place?" Sam whispers in my ear, making me shudder in a startle.

Jeez! She needs to stop doing this.

"I can plainly rate it five stars," I whisper back and we share a discreet laughter. I feel five again, eyeing the luxurious modern villa in front of my eyes. "The house is absolutely gorgeous."

It is furnished in white, and half of it is built with glass, which includes the huge ceiling-tall windows and all the front doors. I can almost see the inside and its golden fluorescent lights. Such lavish people live in, huh? I mentally shrug.

Throwing my glance further, there's a vast swimming pool at the front yard, adjoined a very well-mowed garden. Several palm trees from different angles give the place a fine ambience of a tropical paradise, and the scent of fresh air adds much to my serenity.

"Come in, ladies," Malik announces hospitably. "Welcome to Miami!" He dramatically claps his hands.

"Oh, we already are," Sam prompts, and as always, I only smile at the enthusiasm she exudes.

Liam, on the other hand, looks so well acquainted with the place that he's already heading in. He moves graciously whilst on a phone call that's seemingly important. He must've been here before, evidently. I just suck in a fresh breath and push my way inside, following Malik's lead.

Everyone seems worn-out from the flight. We all enter our respective rooms without any further ado. I take a few minutes contemplating the features of my bedroom, a full white, including the beddings, except for the aqua blue plush coach and the ocean painting on the wall.

"Beautiful," I mutter, sauntering towards the wide window to see what lies behind the curtains.

It's incredibly marvelous. There is a splendid beach view coupled with flashy buildings from across ocean. I smile softly, nostalgia surging like a tornado, ready to twirl me around and around with memories of L.A. But why can't I stop thinking of him, anyway? He's stuck in my mind like a little disease.

I hug myself instinctively, suddenly cold and needy of his presence.

"How I wish to feel his arms again," I breathe, shutting my eyes at the fantastic touch of his memory on my skin, imagining him near me.

But no, I need to shut these lewd thoughts, for I'm definitely getting sexually frustrated. Reclaiming my lost sanity, I change into a nightdress and climb on my bed, ready to call it a day. But my endeavor lives only for a heartbeat. There's a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I ask while fixing myself up.

"It's me." Liam's voice responds.

God, what does he want now?

"Just a sec," I tell him hurriedly, trying hard to wipe off my stupid grin.

How do I look? I run a hand through my curls, fixing them.