Isla

09.

"Yeah, yeah," Connor said, his voice muffled.

"Where's the American?" River asked suddenly. He narrowed his eyes, looking around, and I felt my face heat.

"Don't know."

"How do you not –"

"I just don't, alright?" I snapped suddenly. I sighed, shaking my head. "You guys should seriously get home. Tom's going to be here any minute now and you're going to scare away the customers."

Connor pouted at me, but River grabbed his neck, tugging him off the stools. They grabbed their Gatorades and with a lazy, lop-sided grin, both the boys turned to walk down the beach – probably to take a fat nap at Connor's place.

I sighed, glancing at the clock. Just four hours to go.

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"Where the hell have you been?"

I spun, furrowing my brow to see a familiar head of dark hair marching down the beach toward me.

"Everett," I greeted bluntly, turning back to the booking's directory. "I've been at work."

"Yeah, no shit," he snarled, slamming a hand down on the counter.

My eyes snapped up to meet his and I sent him a glare. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" he shot back. "You didn't show up this morning!"

I rolled my eyes, slamming my pen down and leaning over the counter to give him a sharp look. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have been such a dick yesterday."

His eyes widened in realisation and he let out a scoff. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're still pissed about last night."

"You said some really shitty things, Everett."

"I was drunk."

"And?" I asked, raising a brow and glaring at him. "So was Connor, and he never called me a second choice."

He wavered, his lips twitching into a frown before he hardened his expression and shot me an equally sharp glare. "He was probably thinking it."

"You little –" I growled, leaping forward and throwing a fist at his face. My hips hit the counter and he stumbled back, out of my reach.

"You're seriously going to hold a grudge for that?" he asked, incredulous.

I shook my head in disbelief. "What do you mean, for that? It was rude! And besides, you let all those bitchy girls laugh at me! You made me look like an idiot!"

"You do that all on your own," he shot back. I growled at him and he rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. I hadn't realised how messy it was. His expression softened a fraction, though he mostly looked annoyed. "And I'm sorry, alright? They were bitches. All they wanted me to do was say random words in my accent all night."

"It seemed like you were enjoying the attention."

He snorted. "Yeah, well, it got old real quick."

I rolled my eyes, turning away from him and grabbing my pen again. I glared down at the booking directory, too angry to be able to read what was on the page.

Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? So, some girls liked his accent – big deal. He humiliated me in front of everyone. My grip on the pen tightened.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?"

I ignored him, continuing to glare down at my desk.

"Isla," he sighed, my name barely a breath on his tongue.