Trix and I saunter over to the far edge of the bar where the railing overlooks the drop into the water. The waves lap against the barnacle-encrusted pilings.
"For you two," Meg says, plopping down two jade-color juices. "From the boys."
"Thanks." I take a swig of the juice. It's delicious. No shock there.
"Who knew kale could taste so good?" Trix says, almost licking her lips.
"Food is almost out," Lauren says as she joins us. Her banana-cocoa smoothie matches her nude swimsuit.
Whit walks up to us and stands beside me, her dark hair billowing like the palm leaves that sprinkle shadows across the hut. There's not even wind. WTF.
"Great call on this place," Whit says.
"Right?" Lauren pats her own back.
"Food's out!" Alex announces, but the smell pervading the air basically speaks for him.
"OK everyone got their drinks to-go?" Nate asks the group of us. He pauses just long enough to sip on his coral smoothie. "Everyone ready?"
We pile back out front and resume the bike parade.
Lauren and Whit lead the charge, in search for who knows what. We pedal across the flat sandy ground, down shaded lanes, and under great thickets of tropical brush.
"Watch for coconuts!" I hear Alex shout from up ahead.
Muffled laughter floats backward on the breeze.
I sip on my juice and will it to rejuvenate me, to replenish everything I'm sweating out right now.
We round a corner and find ourselves on a secluded beach. Secluded beaches seem to be our specialty on this trip.
"Race you to the water!" Trix shouts.
I look up and watch Travis chase after her, tossing his T-shirt aside as he reaches the water. Meg flattens a beach blanket down as Alex unpacks the cardboard boxes of food and sets them up in a lopsided row.
I lift the lid on my juice and pour in some of the secret Malibu that's burning a coconut-scented whole in my beach bag.
"Aren't you the little alcoholic?" Lauren jokes beside me.
"Hey, when in Rome," I roll my eyes.
"What happens in Vegas?" Lauren offers, holding out her own juice cup.
The two of us sit back, our toes burrowing in the sand, and watch the scene unfold.
"This is nice, isn't it?" Lauren says over Miley Cyrus' Malibu on the speaker.
"It is," I agree. "Very relaxing."
"Think this will be us in 20 years? 30?" She jokes. "You and me beachin' and the boys off finding trouble."
"I'll drink to that," I laugh. "We can hope right?"
Pseudo sister wives at work again.
We leave around dinner and jet ski to another island with another port and some more beach shacks. The guys play frisbee while the girls find a cute little stand that sells bracelets made from shells.
"Same time tomorrow?" Brody jokes as we pack up and pile back onto the jet skis.
"Tomorrow is the island," Brooks reminds him.
"Oh the secret island you've been talking about?" Travis asks.
"Top secret," Brooks nods. "Totally remote."
The misty moon guides us across the calm water back to the MS. My hands are steady on the throttle; the spiraled key band slides up and down on my wrist with each wave. Brooks sits behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, my butt nestled all snug in between his legs.
"Can't wait til we're back," he mumbles in my ear. His breath tickles my skin. "Straight to bed?"
I lean myself back into him to show my agreement. "You read my mind."