Revel Page 2

  Chapter Two

  Freya

  She was an innocent bystander subjected to seeing her friend naked.

  That's all that was.

  She was just feeling weird because she hadn't expected it.

  She was definitely not feeling weird because she had just seen her extremely hot friend extremely naked. That thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

  Another thought that hadn't crossed her mind: Wow, Isla has the best ass I've ever seen.

  The curves of her tanned skin — well, now a bit red... made Freya's mind go places that it definitely would not have otherwise gone.

  Had she stared at the woman for a moment before waking her up? Of course not. That would be creepy. She was just tired and hadn't been able to understand what was happening. That was all.

  She was an artist. She had to really capture what she was seeing before she could understand it.

  "You okay? You're looking a little green around the gills," Isla said, her soft Kiwi accent lilting in a playful way.

  "Mmhmm," Freya said, nodding. She pushed her ceviche around the plate and tried not to make eye contact with Isla.

  "Hey, mind if we join you?" Meg asked, sliding in beside Isla without waiting for an answer.

  Collins took the back of the chair in her hands, looking down at Freya.

  Freya sat up straighter and nodded. "Sure," she said.

  "Is Pia going to join us?" Collins asked.

  Freya and Isla shared a secret smile at their running inside joke about how Collins was not-so-secretly in love with Pia.

  Meg giggled. "Your girlfriend seems busy," she said, pointing.

  Freya turned in her seat to see her best friend shaking the hands of Billie and Domino's parents, along with Vero's famous rocker dad.

  "Have you ever felt less cool than when you hang out with celebrities?" Isla said, taking a bite of bread as she frowned and rolled her eyes.

  "Honestly," Meg said, giggling. "Like, yeah, I get it, you've been on the cover of Vogue and Rolling Stone but simmer down."

  Freya grinned. She was rarely recognized, even though her paintings hung in famous galleries and billionaire's homes.

  Even if her latest show had been... less than well received, she still had a favorable reputation. Thankfully, that reputation was in name, not her face.

  Meg had often bemoaned that being the drummer of The Shrikes made her invisible, even with pink hair, and Collins was behind the scenes as a producer, so she was rarely recognized, too. Isla was a teacher of some sort — she really was a bad friend for not remembering what grade or what subject. Math? Did that fit? No... History?

  "To being the backbone," Freya said, raising her glass in a toast.

  Meg giggled and even Collins grinned.

  "These people are so lucky to have us," Isla joked.

  "Collins was thinking of going snorkeling tomorrow. Pia is in, want to join them?" Meg asked.

  "You're not coming?" Isla asked.

  "No, I've got bridesmaid nonsense to deal with. The day before the wedding is supposedly extremely important. Or so Vero tells me. I think I'm getting a manicure or something," she said, looking at her short, bitten nails.

  "Are we in?" Isla said, looking across the table at her with wide, honey brown eyes.

  Something clenched inside Freya's stomach at the thought of Isla clearing plans with her, as though she considered Freya's presence important to her own schedule. Well, that was an unexpected feeling.

  "Uh, sure," Freya said, blinking. "Yeah. I love snorkeling." It was a lie. She'd never tried it, but how bad could it be?

  Freya watched Pia spit into her eye mask, wiping it out.

  "For the fog," Pia said, gesturing down to the mask.

  "Fog?"

  Pia rolled her eyes. "Your mask is going to fog up from the temperature. Spit helps. Were you listening at all?"

  Freya spit into her own mask, feeling self-conscious about spitting in public. She had spent the entire orientation staring into the turquoise blue waters, studying how the darker teals melted into the lighter. Her fingers itched for her sketchbook and pencils. Hell, she'd even make do with pastels if it meant being able to capture this exact color.

  She hadn't painted in weeks. Months? Awhile. It had been too long. She'd never had such a dry spell before.

  She couldn't afford to pass up inspiration.

  "Okay, you ready?" Pia asked.

  They sat on a boat in the middle of the atoll, the water so still it looked like glass. The clouds reflected in the crystalline surface.

  Freya furrowed her eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Of course."

  "You really didn't listen to a thing, did you?" Pia grinned, lowering her voice.

  Freya slapped her flippers on the damp bottom of the boat. "I refuse to let you slander my good name this way," she said.

  "Fray, just breathe into this part. Only your mouth, not your nose," Isla said, leaning over her. "Like going down on a woman."

  Freya inhaled quickly, choking on her own saliva. She turned to Isla, surprised.

  Freya had been focusing so intensely on the colors of the sky and water and reef that she hadn't given herself any time to take in the vision that was Isla in an itty bitty, teeny tiny, yellow bikini. Even her sunburn had already faded into her tan.

  She sang the dumb yellow polkadot bikini song in her head to distract herself from checking out Isla's cleavage.

  Pia nudged her and gave her a stern look.

  "Breathing, not breasts," Pia whispered in her ear, then stood and high-knee walked in her flippers to the back edge of the boat, slipping into the water after Collins.

  "Are you scared?" Isla asked innocently. "Do you want me to count you down to jump in?"

  "I'm not scared to go down," Freya said quickly before realizing her remark.

  Isla grinned mischievously. "A true hero in that regard. But, I meant..."

  She followed Isla's gaze down to where Freya's hand gripped the seat next to her thigh. Her knuckles were white.

  "I'm not afraid," Freya said again, lifting her hand. She cleared her throat and stood, lifting her feet awkwardly to avoid tripping on her flipper shoes.

  She sat on the back edge of the boat and Isla sat down next to her. "On three," Isla said.

  Freya nodded, gulping. She pulled the mask over her face and adjusted the nose part, then put the actual snorkel into her mouth. Her knees were shaking slightly. Why was she having such a strange reaction? She had been swimming before, of course, and in the ocean, but something about the mask over her nose made her feel like she was suffocating.

  "One."

  Freya flapped her feet in her water, feeling the tension against her fins.

  "Two."

  Was this how a mermaid felt? No, mermaids were way more graceful. They also didn't have legs. Or shaky knees.

  "Three."

  Isla grabbed her hand and leaned forward, gracefully slipping into the water as Freya slid sideways, hitting the water with the grace of a swandiving elephant.

  Actually, elephants were good swimmers, weren't they?

  Huh. Her snorkel was a bit like a trunk. Solid metaphor, Fray.

  The water wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm. It was slightly cooler than her body, relaxing and refreshing at the same time.

  She experimented with taking a breath through her snorkel, sucking in a gulp of water.

  She choked, her mouth full of the salty water, and she pulled off the tube as she coughed.

  "Beware getting water in there," Isla said, watching her with what appeared to be a concerned look behind her mask.

  "I'm fine, go play with your friends," Freya said, waving her hand.

  "I am," Isla laughed, swimming backwards patiently. "Come on."

  Freya cleared her throat, quadruple-checking the tube of the snorkel before fitting it back to her mouth.

  She dipped her head below the surface slowly, taking in another breath of air. It was hard to convince herself not to breathe through her
nose.

  She focused on counting her breaths as she let her legs bob to the surface behind her. The sun warmed her back and the water felt perfectly cool.

  Okay, this wasn't so bad.

  The water wasn't deep, and it was crystal-clear. She could see every detail of the reef below her, every notch of coral and line in the sand. Plants blossomed and swayed in the current and fish zipped in and out of the reef's protection.

  Isla pointed up ahead and Freya could make out a brightly patterned, skinny fish as a school of blue and orange fish shimmied past.

  It was so stunning that she felt choked up just at the sight. At the privilege to be able to witness such vivid beauty.

  Pia appeared beside her and signalled for her to surface.

  Freya lifted her head, pushing herself into a position where she could tread water with her head above the water.

  Pia surfaced beside her, pushing her mask up on top of her head.

  "What's wrong?" Freya asked, mimicking the motion with her own mask.

  "Nothing, I just wanted to get you alone to ask you something," Pia said.

  She had a hunch what this was about. "Of course I'll be the Best Woman to your Ladygroom."

  "What?" Pia asked, looking surprised. "How did you know I was going to talk to you about proposing to her?"

  Freya tread in the water as she shrugged. "I figured it was about time. And you didn't want me sharing your villa. Had to have some reason for that privacy."

  "Maybe we're just going to have extremely raucus sex," Pia said, laughing.

  Isla appeared suddenly beside them. "Raucus sex? Why do I always miss the fun?"

  Freya laughed, winking at Pia. She made a mental note to get her friend alone later to talk through the plan more. She loved Zoey — she had been on Team Zoey since nearly the beginning. The idea of Pia finally proposing felt right.

  "Tell... Domino I think that's a fantastic idea," Freya said quickly. "And that I'll help in any way I can."

  "Dom?" Isla asked, looking between the two of them. "Anyway, just wanted to let y'all know there's a shark."

  Pia startled. "You waited to tell us there's a shark?" She was already paddling back towards the boat.

  "It's a very little shark, and not one of the aggressive kinds. Collins ran, too," Isla giggled, lifting her eyebrows at Freya. "Want to see?"

  Freya nodded, pulling her mask back down over her face as she dunked back below the water.

  They swam past where the small shark followed a small school of fish. It was only around three feet long and paid them no attention, but Freya was fascinated by it. It's skin looked soft, almost, and so very humanlike, yet its body was serpentine in its movements, and she resisted the urge to reach towards it.

  She lowered her head slightly, entranced by its nearness, and only realized her mistake when she went to take another breath, She inhaled a lungful of salty water and tried to cough, except that only meant dragging in more water. Oh god, she was doing to die. She was drowning. She couldn't breathe. She was suffocating. She flailed in panic, only making her situation worse by lowering in the water instead of surfacing. Her heart slammed against her ribs in panic as she struggled.

  Isla looked back at her and immediately reached for her, dragging her towards the surface.

  Isla shoved Freya's mask and snorkel away from her face, not even bothering with her own. She wrapped an arm around Freya and used the other to smack Freya's back.

  Freya spat out the water, coughing and choking. She was in full-panic mode, her mind racing with scenes of her drowning in a snorkel in shallow-ish water. Would her obituary point those facts out or would it say she died in a mysterious accident while vacationing on a private island? She seriously hoped for the latter.

  "You're okay, I've got you," Isla said, her mask finally pushed up onto her head.

  All she could do was nod and try not to cough directly in Isla's face or focus on the fact that she was in Isla's arms, pressed against her nearly-naked body.

  Seriously, her mind was choosing this very near-death moment to be a perv?

  Well, at least she'd die in a beautiful woman's arms.

  "You're okay," Isla repeated, and Freya took a deep, shaky breath, finally realizing just how scared she actually was.

  Her entire body was trembling and tears welled at the corners of her eyes from the effort of coughing.

  "She okay?" Pia yelled from some distance behind them.

  Isla made some motion behind her — she didn't dare turn around to see. "She's fine," she called back.

  "You're fine, right?" Isla said, looking back towards her. "God, you're white as a ghost. Let's get you back to the boat."

  Freya shook her head quickly. "Not yet. I want to get my act together before Pia makes fun of me for trying to die on a beginner snorkelling trip."

  "No one's going to make fun of you," Isla said in a comforting tone, reaching to push wet hair back from Freya's face.

  The simple move was so comforting, but Freya narrowed her eyes instead. "Of course they are."

  Isla grinned. "Okay, I see your point. No one gets away with anything in this group." She laughed, her arms still wrapped around Freya. "Let's bob here for as long as you need, then. Until the shark eats our legs off."

  Freya flinched, then laughed. "It was like the size of my leg."

  "Yeah, but think of all the teeth," Isla said in a dramatic tone. "Two rows." Her hair was fanning out in the water around her shoulders and her legs had become entwined with Freya's as they pushed and pulled the water beneath them to stay upright.

  Freya laughed. "Thanks for calming me down. I don't know why that freaked me out so much."

  "Yeah, what a weird reaction to choking and nearly drowning."

  Freya rolled her eyes. "I didn't nearly drown."

  Isla nodded, adding in an exaggerated wink. “Totally.”

  Freya glared at her, but couldn’t resist a tiny smile.

  "So, what was the Domino thing about earlier?" Isla asked, her tone turning gossipy.

  Freya grinned. "Oh, that was nothing."

  "I knew it," Isla said, nodding as though she was confirming a suspicion in her head.

  "Knew what?"

  "I knew Domino was going to propose to Sabrina on this trip," Isla said.

  Freya quickly shook her head. "No, no, you misund–"

  "And your intensity just confirms it."

  "That's not–"

  "I won't tell Sab, I promise. Girl Guides' promise."

  "What's a Girl Gui–"

  "When is it going to happen?"

  Freya sighed. "You're way off base."

  "Which is exactly what someone would say if I were way on base," Isla said, her eyebrows wagging.

  Freya squinted against the sun on the water. "Believe what you want, but don't say anything, because you're wrong," she said.

  "Like I said, Girl Guides honor."

  "I honestly still have no idea what you're talking about," Freya said, shaking her head.

  "You ready to go back?" Isla said, nodding towards the boat behind them.

  "If only to stop this conversation," Freya said with a teasing smirk.

  Chapter Three

  Isla

  Isla watched as Pia refilled the glass of sparkling water sitting on the vanity before them. She stretched her neck as Freya monopolized the mirror in front of her, straightening her hair.

  Pia had so generously let them crash her gigantic bathroom to get ready together.

  "I still think it's a crime to have a dry wedding," Freya remarked as she looked down at the glass of water.

  "And I think it's a crime to complain about not being able to drink at the wedding of your sober friend," Isla said with a wink as she caught Freya's eye in the mirror.

  "I just don't see why we can't pregame with champagne," Freya said.

  "Because showing up even slightly inebriated would kinda ruin the whole point," Collins said, fidgeting with her tie in the mirror. She pulled it loose i
n frustration.

  Freya rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. I see your good points and I respect them. I want to support Vero, too, of course. But does that mean we have to have a sober after party?"

  "No, not if Vero doesn't join us. But in the meantime, we're going to be there for our friend," Pia said, standing to help Collins with her tie.

  Collins froze, her eyes wide, her body stock still as Pia pulled and wrapped her tie into a perfect Windsor knot.

  Isla caught Freya's eyes in the mirror as they both grinned.

  "Okay, but you know what else is a crime? Beige," Freya said, looking down at her neutral-colored jumpsuit. "Or eggshell. Or grayge. Whatever this color is."

  Collins nodded. Isla eyed up her slick tan suit — it was the perfect combination of tailored and casual due to the tan color with the pop of gray tie beneath.

  "It feels slightly scandalous to wear a color so close to white to a wedding," Isla said, glancing towards her hanging dress.

  Billie and Vero were having a glamorous beach wedding, whatever that meant, and Zoey had helped her choose a dress that would fit the theme. In fact, Zoey had picked out the clothes for nearly all of them.

  She had unashamedly raided Zoey's closet and found a slim-fitting pinkish-beige, off the shoulder Stella McCartney gown with a beaded slit up one leg. It was the perfect combination of classic and sexy.

  The idea of getting sand on any inch of it made her want to throw up, but it was too gorgeous to pass up for the occasion.

  When would she ever get to wear a dress so glamorous again?

  She had curled her ashy blonde hair into loose waves and put on neutral makeup to match the dress, a brown smokey eye, the set of false lashes that weren't too obvious, and a subtle lipstick. She looked at herself in the mirror, examining her handiwork.

  "Wow," Freya said behind her, nodding in approval.

  Why did that reaction make Isla's insides tighten?

  "You look damn good and you're still just wearing a robe. I'm feeling like I've got to step up my game," Freya remarked.

  Isla looked her over, taking in her dark, shoulder length hair, green eyes, topped with natural makeup. Freya was wearing a dark beige jumpsuit that tied in a halter behind her neck, accenting her strong shoulders. The wide legs made the look modern, yet elegant.