Dangerous Acts

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” a shrill voice broke through a young doctor’s sound sleep. “Come on, babe, up and at ‘em.”

“Fuck off,” she grumbled as she shoved her face farther into her soft, feather pillow.

“Those words wound me, Vi. How can you say those things to your baby sister?” Avery, the ‘baby sister’ in question, pounced on her sister’s bed. “Come on, Greece is waiting.”

“I’ve seen it every day for the past ten days,” Vi reminded her sister. “Back home, I’m Dr. Howard and here I can be just Viola. Can’t I have one day where I’m not being shuttled around by Mr. Tycoon?”

Mr. Tycoon, or Calyx Milonakis, was the eldest Howard sister’s current arm candy. Zoella wasn’t ashamed to admit the man was nearly fifteen years her senior and a successful businessman. It was her subtle way of saying he had enough money to keep a small island afloat for several months. Vi hated him, Avery loved the gifts, and Zoella wouldn’t admit why she liked him.

‘I bet it’s the sex,” Avery had commented once, much to the disgust of the middle sister.

“Mr. Tycoon, like it or not, graciously invited you and me along for this trip too,” Avery reminded Vi. “And completely free, might I add.” It was true. Cal wouldn’t let them pay for a thing.

She huffed and sat up. “There had better be actual eggs and bacon this time, dammit.”



Not far from the plush seaside villa and its young doctor guest, was an equally nice Grecian palatial home. But this one didn’t house a doctor, instead a hockey player.

Brandon Bollig wasn’t used to the island’s early morning sunlight just yet and when it poured through his window that morning, he rolled over with a groan.

“Mother of God,” he clutched his pillow to his face to ease the pain of the bright light as his eyes adjusted.

A knock on his door had him groaning quietly as he sat up. “Yeah?”

“Oh good,” a cheery female voice smiled. Nadia. “You’re awake. Kyle wanted me to come and get you. He says you could sleep all day if we let you.”

Brandon rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and nodded. “Absolutely. But, uh, I’ll be down in a minute?” He hadn’t slept in much else than his boxers and there was something about showcasing his underwear choice to his best friend’s wife that didn’t appeal to him.

“Oh,” Nadia nodded hastily. “Of course. But actually, why don’t you get dressed for the day? There’s a few things Kyle’s got planned!”

Before Brandon could ask what she meant exactly by ‘plans’, the door was shut and he was left to get ready for the day. One thing he knew about Kyle is that he should never expect anything because the second he prepared himself for whatever could happen, it just got worse.

Brandon had played hockey with Kyle in St. Louis as kids. Kyle could probably have ended playing in the NHL as well – had it not been for the broken hand and fractured rib cage he suffered after a car accident their senior year of high school. Now, having down a full 180, Kyle was in stocks. And he was making some serious cash doing that.

After much insistence from both Nadia and his childhood friend, he’d agreed to celebrate his Stanley Cup for a few weeks on the small island of Calyx in Greece at their rented home.

“Now Kyle,” he groaned to himself as he pulled on a pair of swim trunks and what Kyle referred to as a ‘bro tank’ on. “What do you have up your sleeve?”



“Can you please act like you’re happy?” Zoella pinched her sister’s arm. “Please, Vi?”

“I am happy,” she huffed out as she sipped her third drink of the day. One thing that Viola would happily admit was that Cal had good taste in booze. “Perfectly peachy.”

Her older sister rolled her eyes. “Cut the bull shit. You haven’t left this spot in three hours.”

Viola shifted in her seat, drawing her legs up to her bikini clad chest. “Can you blame me? I’m enjoying the view.” With her free hand, she motioned to the shirtless male vacationers that had joined them on Cal’s yacht or were jumping off the jagged rocks that perforated the ocean’s surface. She ignored the other women onboard simply to avoid conversation. If she was on a slightly forced vacation, then she was going to enjoy it her way. And that meant lots of alcohol, little talking, and plenty of eye candy.

“Well maybe when we dock in an hour to pick up a few more people, you can, oh, I don’t know… maybe act like you have functioning limbs?” her sister stood up with a huff and began walking away.

“It takes at least one limb to lift this drink up!” Viola yelled after her. “And more people? Jesus Christ, are we trying to sink the boat?”



The turquoise waters of the small island stretched out before them as the large yacht got larger and larger on the horizon.

“Remind me who this dude is?” Brandon asked Kyle. “Your new business partner?”

“Potential business partner,” Kyle straightened out his shirt as the boat prepared to dock and disembark. “Calyx Milonakis. This is his island.”

Brandon nearly shocked on his own saliva. “His island?” Sure, since entering the NHL and signing his contract he’d made a nice chunk of money, but he threw bodies around for a living while chasing a piece of rubber. What did this guy do? “How the hell did he manage that?”

“That’s not important,” Kyle waved a hand as they began to climb up the gang plank. “Just…play it cool?”

“Dude,” Brandon grabbed his shoulder. “Are you really asking me that? What’s my name?” he prodded him, bringing up a childhood mantra, but his friend wouldn’t budge. “Come on, man. What’s my name?”

Kyle sighed. “Brandon Cool-ski Bollig.”

“Atta boy,” the hockey player grinned as Nadia laughed and took his friend’s hand. “Now there’d better be some good booze.”

And Brandon soon found that there was certainly more than just good booze. Along with the top shelf alcohol, there were plenty of leggy, Greeks to keep the eye and mind busy. With so much to see on the boat, Brandon had barely had time to shred his shirt, let alone go jump off some rocks.

He’d lost Kyle quickly, his friend having gone to find Calyx. Brandon had yet to meet the man, but if the atmosphere he’d created was any indication of his demeanor, Brandon looked forward to it. He was probably a fun guy. Maybe even a little too much fun.

After a second trip to the bar and extricating himself from a third pile of accented girls, Brandon began another circle of the room. It wasn’t that he wasn’t having fun playing around on the ship – because he certainly was – he found a seat for himself along the rail of the yacht on a long chaise. In the weeks after winning the Cup, it seemed that all Brandon did was party and drink and dance. And party and drink and dance some more. As much fun as it was to be doing that in Greece, he found that taking a few minutes to recharge led to enjoying the night just that much more.

“Too much partying?” a voice asked and Brandon jumped. He wasn’t alone?

How Brandon had missed the long mass lying just a few chairs down from him, he didn’t know. The girl was certainly a looker. With tanned skin and a toned body, there was no missing her.



“What?” Viola sat up and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. “Cat got your tongue?”

She knew who the man was sitting with a chair between them. Living in Chicago, you’d have had to be blind and deaf to be able to ignore the hype the Blackhawks had created within the last few years. Especially after the Cup celebrations in June, it was quite obvious that the man was a local celebrity.

Brandon shook his head as if trying to bring himself back down to earth and Viola leaned back again. So much for joking around with a hockey player. Maybe he’d taken one too many hits to the head. Maybe she should recommend her friend to him. Jay specialized in concussions didn’t he?

“Not unless that cat is you, sweetheart,” it seemed he’d recovered and came up with the first lame line in his repertoire.

“Oh,” Viola rolled her eyes. “Round of applause for that one right there. Really,” she clapped once. “did you stay up all night thinking up that one?”

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “I’m just that smooth.” He leaned over the chair and extended a hand and Viola did all she could to focus on his forearm instead of his chest and the six pack below them.

Well damn…

“I’m Brandon,” he smiled as he took off his own sunglasses. “And who might you be?”

Vi pursed her lips. What exactly was he doing here? No way was he a friend of Cal’s and no had he just stumbled across the yacht.

“Well number 52,” she contained a laugh at his widened eyes. “I’m Vi.”

“Vi,” he tested it out. “What’s that short for?”

“Violaaaaaaaaa,” a voice cut through whatever bubble had surrounded them. “Where are you?”

Vi turned around just as Avery plopped down in her lap. “Oof,” she pushed her younger sister off of her. “How drunk are you, Ave?”

“Just buzzed,” Avery promised although her slightly glazed over eyes said otherwise. “But we’re going jumping. You should come.” She pointed to a gaggle of Greek Adonises, all watching the two sisters intently. In unison, they waved. “I think they’re all straight.”

“Avery!”

“Sorry, sorry,” she surrendered. “But for real, are you coming?”

She couldn’t very well let her little sister go jump off things with perfect strangers while intoxicated. (Emphasis on the perfect.) Viola turned to Brandon who had been watching the discussion both confused and intrigued. “Well, you want to go jump off some rocks drunk?”



The water was just as clear and refreshing as it was blue and by the time he surfaced after jumping off the side of the yacht, Brandon was able to catch the streamlined figure of Viola disappear beneath the water in a dive.

It seemed like she was underwater forever and Brandon wondered if he should go after her when she popped up in front of him. Wet hair and a thin gold chain floated on the surface with a small cross between them as she wiped at her eyes.

As her sister and the others swam towards the nearest rock, a smile that Brandon all too beautiful spread across her lips deviously. “Race you?”

“I’ll have you know, sweetheart,” he winked. “I always let the lady finish first.”

Though she laughed, they didn’t race. Instead they floated along the surface, her on her back and he on his stomach with his head held up so that he didn’t miss a single angle to watch her.

“So you know what I do,” Brandon began as ahead of them they could hear splashes beginning as bodies began jumping. “What do you do?”

“I’m a doctor,” she stretched her arms above her and propelled herself through the water. “In the ER at Northwestern Memorial Hospital.”

She’s from Chicago. That could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Brandon wasn’t sure what to hope for just yet.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she scooted up on to the base of the rock. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

He shrugged. “MY friend is schmoozing the guy who owns the boat, I guess. Or the whole island, rather.”

Vi gaped at him. “Cal owns the island?”

“Yes?” Brandon asked, wary of her expression. “Are you okay?”

She blinked once, twice. “I’m…I’m fine. Just- that’s who… that’s my sister’s… special friend.”

“Special friend?” Brandon guffawed. “Really?”

“He’s too old for her!” Vi stated. “I don’t know what to call him.”

“Right, well, you can think about what to call him while we climb up this rock,” he led the way to a poorly made, rickety wooden staircase. “Or maybe not. You should probably focus on not falling.”



Vi peered over the edge and down at the blue waters of the Mediterranean. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Avery could take care of herself, right?

“Scared, sweetheart?” Brandon asked from behind her. “Need to hold my hand?”

Vi straightened up. “Of course not,” she spat. “Just… hoping I don’t…”

“Chicken out?”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Alright,” Brandon put his hands up in surrender. “Then I guess you can jump on your own.” He backed away but Vi reached out and grabbed his forearm. Or, she attempted to wrap a hand around it.

“First time for both of us right?” she tried to play if off. “Why not… deflower each other? In the rock jumping category of course.”

“Oh, of course,” he agreed with a sarcastic grin on his face. “On three?”

Gulping, Vi nodded. Until they’d gotten up there, she’d completely forgotten how much she hated heights. And she even worked in the third tallest hospital in the US. What a pussy she was.

“One,” Brandon began to count slowly as the backed up from the edge in unison. “Two,” Vi made a noise in her throat and latched onto his hand unwillingly. “Three.”

He might have tugged her forward a little, but they both ran to the edge and leapt together.