Sloane threw herself against the pillowy couch cushions in her bungalow. As hard as she tried, she was unable to bite back the smile that poked the corners of her mouth upward. God, even her idiocy was tinged with bliss. Spending the last two weeks having fantastic sex and better-than-fantastic conversations with Gavin had put a huge damper on her ability to be cynical about anything. How could the world be anything less than stellar when she felt so warm and happy and downright good? Ugh, now she was a sap and an idiot. Fabulous. “If having mutually exclusive sex with someone who actually happens to like you for who you are makes you an idiot, I don’t even want to know what that makes me,” Carly said with a laugh. She placed a huge bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, but not even the delectable smell of double-butter and sea salt could keep Sloane’s reply from barging out. “I haven’t told him about Greece.” Carly froze with her hand halfway over the bowl. “Are you still going?”
