Diamonds in the Rough. Michelle Madow

about that study session tonight?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or a movie. We wouldn’t have to go out. We could watch at my place—I’m sure I can find something you’ll like.”

      Her eyes locked on his, and she wanted to say yes. But Oliver had given her a hard time about having lunch with Brett. It had been obvious even to him that every time she and Brett were around each other, she had to battle to control her feelings. She doubted a movie at his place would remain strictly friendly. And if anything more were to happen between them, and anyone—mainly Adrian or Rebecca—were to find out, it would mean losing their trust and disappointing them. Courtney couldn’t do that.

      “I don’t think so.” Her heart dropped at the disappointment in his eyes, and she hurried to the teachers to offer to help clean up.

      No matter what she did, it seemed impossible to make everyone happy.

       Chapter 7: Peyton

      On Saturday afternoon, Peyton was in her room, trying and failing to concentrate on homework. Figuring a break was in order, and with Courtney at the Habitat for Humanity build and Savannah grabbing lunch with Evie before Evie went back to California, she journeyed to the main pool at the Diamond by herself.

      The Diamond Residences penthouses included access to the exclusive rooftop pool, but Peyton preferred the main pool because it was busier—filled with people to watch and potentially meet. It was surrounded by palm trees and manicured hedges, with the golden towers of the hotel and condo overlooking it all. People swam in groups, talking and laughing, and it was late enough in the day that it was nearly impossible to find an open chair.

      Luckily Peyton had reserved a VIP cabana that morning. After applying tanning oil—with SPF 15 since Courtney insisted she protect her skin a little—she laid back on her lounge chair, readjusted her blue plastic-framed sunglasses and listened to her iPod. She tanned for thirty minutes, and then took out the book she was supposed to be reading for class, although instead of reading, she looked around to people watch.

      That was when she spotted Hunter Sterling, lounging with friends, wearing only a bathing suit. And wow, did he work out when he wasn’t teaching. He had the chiseled body of an Abercrombie model—he might even give Jackson a run for his money. Not like Peyton had ever seen Jackson shirtless, since he always wore his professional suit around her, but he had to be superfit to be a bodyguard.

      Hunter’s friends appeared to be around his age, and the five of them were drinking beers and talking. She wanted Hunter to see her, but not have it be obvious that she was looking for his attention, so she got up for a dip in the pool, right near where they were hanging out. When she pulled herself out of the water, Hunter’s gaze met hers and he waved.

      Taking that as an invitation, she strutted over, knowing she looked hot in her barely-there black bikini, her skin glistening from the water. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to see if Jackson was watching, but as always, her bodyguard was hidden within the masses of tourists. Oh, well. She might not be able to see him, but she knew he was watching.

      She smiled when she reached Hunter and his friends. “I’ve never seen you at the Diamond pool before,” she said, trying to act like running into him was normal and had happened more than once.

      “My best mates are visiting this week, and they wanted to stay at the best hotel in Vegas,” he said, motioning to his friends and introducing them.

      “Naturally, you brought them here,” Peyton said.

      “This is the best hotel in Vegas, isn’t it?”

      “I only moved here this summer, so I’m no expert.” She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “But that’s what I hear.”

      “Then it looks like I’m in the right place.” He grinned, and it was like the teacher/student separation was gone. But there were no open seats around them, and she felt awkward standing.

      “I’ve got a cabana over there.” She pointed to her cabana, which was empty except for her stuff on her chair. “If you want the best of Vegas, you have to hang out in a poolside cabana.”

      “What do you say, boys?” Hunter raised his beer and looked at his friends. “To the cabana?”

      “To the cabana!” they repeated, clinking their beers together and standing up.

      Peyton led the way through the maze of chairs draped with white-and-gold striped towels. The cabanas were separated with dark wood dividers and spiral hedges. Each had a cushioned bench and a few lounge chairs in front of the entrance, which had a white curtain for privacy.