Dale's POV

Consciousness came back in pieces.

First the headache, centered behind my eyes like something was pushing outward from the inside of my skull, then the dry, sour taste coating my tongue and the wrongness of the light and the air. I wasn’t in my own bed and the cushion under my bare back was too firm, slightly sticky where sweat had dried. The air smelled like chlorine, leftover red wine, and the unmistakable musk of sex.

I opened my eyes and I saw Morning light cutting across the water in bright, painful sheets and Britney, still mostly naked, stretched out beside me. The tiny black bikini bottoms were...