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sunlight made him feel more reserved, unlike his guests. The sun brought out the playfulness in them, making them laugh and splash in the water.
    “Would you like a drink, Jessica?” he asked as he approached her.
    She jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up, laughing. “You must think I’m a complete moron.”
    “Why?”
    “Because every time you talk to me I look at you in shock. You walk so quietly, like a cat. I keep getting startled.” She laughed again.
    “I don’t think you’re a moron.”
    “You went to Harvard, right?” she asked.
    “Yale. That’s where Trevor and I met. Are you in school?”
    She paused, as if not sure what to say. “I was at NYU but I dropped out. My parents still don’t know.”
    “You should tell them,” he said.
    A woman holding a tray of sodas walked by, and Roman stopped her. “What would you like?”
    “Diet Coke would be great,” she said. “I’m not twenty-one yet.”
    Roman smiled as the caterer poured the soda into a plastic cup with ice and added a lemon wedge on top.
    “Thank you,” Jessica said, taking a long sip.
    “You keep reminding me you’re not legal. Are you trying to tell me you’re too young to be here, or are you trying to get me to give you alcohol?” Roman asked.
    Jessica blushed. “I’m sorry. Neither, sir.”
    He liked the way she sounded when she called him sir. Her lips, covered only in a bit of gloss, parted beautifully when she spoke, revealing straight, white teeth.
    “Here,” he said, handing her his beer. “I haven’t actually had any of this. I don’t care for beer.”
    Jessica took the beer carefully, as if wondering if he were testing her. “Thanks.” She took a sip. “I’ve had beer before, obviously. I mean . . . you know, keg parties and stuff in high school.”
    Roman nodded. The beer she now drank cost as much as an entire keg of whatever piss she’d drunk in high school, not that it mattered.
    “This is much better than that, though,” she murmured, and took another sip.
    “Don’t get drunk,” he said. The words came out harsher than he’d intended them to.
    “I won’t, sir. I promise.” She set the beer down on the deck by her chair and picked up the sunscreen again.
    “Let me help you with that.”
    Without a word, she handed him the sunscreen and slowly undid the towel from around her chest. The gray fabric dropped to the chair, revealing her thin, muscular body and pert breasts.
    He focused on not smiling, because he knew if he smiled it would come across as leering. He didn’t want to scare away the girl, not now.
    “Noon is peak time for sunburns,” he said, squirting some of the thick white cream into his hand. He rubbed his hands together to warm the sunscreen before bringing his hands down on her back. Her skin was soft and smooth, with tan lines already in place. Running his hands firmly over her shoulders, he covered her upper back in long, deft strokes.
    “Yeah,” she said, and sighed as he rubbed her muscles a bit, massaging the cream into her skin.
    With two fingers he lifted up the bikini string across her back and made sure to cover the skin underneath as well. How easy it would be to pull the string and make the bikini top fall to the chair alongside the towel. He imagined what her nipples might look like—small and pink, most likely.
    “Almost done,” he said softly, and rubbed the sunscreen down her lower back, covering her completely.
    “Thank you,” she said. “Do you want to use some for yourself?”
    He wiped his hands over his face and ears, enjoying the scent of coconuts. “I had some left over. That’ll do for now.”
    Jessica took another sip of her beer and looked out across the deck at the other guests milling around. “I think I said the wrong thing to Elisabeth.”
    At the mention of her name, Roman turned his head sharply to Jessica. “What did you say?”
    “Oh! Nothing. I don’t know. I asked her if it was true that . . . you trained her.