My Perfect Mistake (Over the Top Book 1)(7)

By: Kelly Siskind


I slap the edge of my hand against the water, spraying Sawyer’s face. “So what? Going from girl to girl and never settling down like you is the answer? That’s what you call living?”

Using his forearm, he wipes the water from his face. “First. Do that again, and I beat your ass. These pools are nasty. Second. Yeah, I’m living the life. The life I want. For me. That’s all I’m suggesting. Nico here is your relationship guy. That works for him. I happen to like variety. Either way, you need to figure your shit out because one day Jackson will fly the coop. I say have fun in Aspen, let loose, for fuck’s sake, then maybe start into the dating again back home.”

What’s it been? Six months? Seven? Sure, work, Jackson, and life in general make it tough to find the time to date, but these days I can’t muster up the interest. Sawyer and I used to take advantage of our Moondog status, bagging chicks more than happy to list us as conquests. After a couple of them turned creepy stalker, we canned that routine and stopped telling girls what we do for a living. With them it was empty sex, anyway, always at their place, never at mine, keeping Jackson away from the temporary girls in my life. Then came dating. Everyone telling me they had the girl for me. The perfect match. A month here, a couple there, but no one with any staying power.

No one is Marina. No one ever will be.

Nico moves to use another jet, and the water sways like one of those wave pools. “He might have a point, dude.”

I cough on a swallow of beer. “Seriously? You’re siding with the guy who slept with your last girlfriend a month after you broke up?”

He cracks his thick neck. “There wasn’t much between us, so I gave him the okay. Besides, I knew what a letdown it would be after riding the Nico Train.”

Sawyer copies my move and blasts water in Nico’s face. “Asshole.”

Nico retaliates with a punch to the shoulder that has Sawyer cursing, then Nico turns to me. “We’re in Aspen, hot chicks everywhere. You should’ve seen the two we met on the slopes today. Might as well use the time to get back in the game. Have some fun. Then maybe hit the dating scene with more enthusiasm. Even online or something.”

I sigh. “Right. Online dating. Like that works. And if you met girls, why are you here?”

Nico shrugs. “They took off too fast. Something about meeting a friend at the bottom. And don’t diss online dating. I’ve done it. It might not have lasted, but you never know.” He points a finger at both of us. “One smartass word from either of you, and I aim for the throat.”

Sawyer and I take one look at each other and burst out laughing, beer almost spurting from my nose. “What did your profile say?” I ask. “Searching for Amazonian woman to handle massive dick?”

A slow smile lights Nico’s face. “If the shoe fits.”

Chuckling, I push up to sit on the edge of the tub, needing a break from the heat. The boys sink lower, shoulders shaking with laughter. The snow is falling harder, hopefully dumping inches on top. A powder day tomorrow would make up for today’s fail. Still, I can’t stop reliving every aggravating detail. The bra. The careless instructor. That chick with the attitude, and her effortless turns as she blew past me on the slopes. Picturing her again has heat pooling south, my dick nudging me to get some play. Maybe the boys are right. If I stop worrying about meeting the right girl, if I relax and have some fun, maybe I could approach the whole dating thing with a bit more optimism when home. Not measure every girl against Marina.

“Fine. Let’s do it,” I say. “But not tonight. Tonight, it’s steaks and beers in. The way my day went, going out could be painful. We’ll hit the bars tomorrow. Cool?”

Nico grunts, and Sawyer says, “Works for me.”

I jump up. “I’ll head to town for food. You still off asparagus, Nico?”

He gawks at me. “That was what? A year ago?” When Sawyer makes his what-the-fuck face, Nico says to him, “You remember Stacey, the blonde I dated? She cooked the shit out of it nightly. Fucking baby food. And Bill Gates here”—he nods to me—“filed that nugget away in his mutant brain.”

“I don’t remember you complaining about my genius brain when I’d do your math homework. I’ll just get some salad stuff.” I grab my towel, looking forward to a low-key night and a better day tomorrow. Checking out the nightlife and getting laid are starting to sound good. Damn good. Between my assistant, Stella, and Marina’s mother, Jackson’s in safe hands. Work won’t implode over the next four days, and the past months of no action are catching up with me. If this trip is about living it up and letting loose, I may as well push the boundaries. For four days. Starting tomorrow. This particular day can still kiss my ass.

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