by Tara Brown
I sat down and stuck my feet in the pool and cracked my clementine sparkling water. Vincent waded over to me, giving me that look. The one that always made my insides tighten. I used to mistake it for disgust.
I shivered, not from the cold, and slipped down into the water. I wasn't trying to get closer. I was trying to cover myself up. He took my drink and sipped some of it and handed it back. I wrinkled my nose and put it on the patio, making him laugh.
Lainey snuggled up next to me, third wheeling in all the best ways. “Dude, I don't like being in my underwear in front of people.” She was covering her breasts fiercely. Not that it mattered—she was wearing a completely see-through white sports bra.
Vincent’s jaw dropped as his stare glanced her way and his eyes bugged out of his head. He snapped his jaw shut and pressed his lips together.
I kicked him under the water, knowing exactly what he was looking at.
Lainey was the queen of wearing super tight bras with tape around her chest if she had to, to avoid being chesty for a skinny girl.
On a normal body, she wouldn't even be chesty, but on a skinny girl a nice pair of C boobs made her look a little plastic. She had no ass, none whatsoever, so the chest really was noticeable if unleashed.
Her bathing suits were always the ones competitive swimmers wore. They sucked every ounce of shape from your chest. She was curveless everywhere else. She was like a kid with boobs, like a really small kid. We bugged her constantly that she only gained her weight there. But all that aside, in a white sports bra her boobs were pretty obvious.
I leaned over. “Hey, you know how you’re smart in a lot of things, but every now and then we come across that one thing where you aren’t?”
She nodded. I lowered my eyes to her see-through sports bra. “Grab a tee shirt or a bra or bathing suit top from the pool house.”
She looked down and gasped, turning and jumping from the pool and running to the pool house.
I turned back to Sierra who laughed and made a face. She shook her fiery red mop of wet locks and shrugged. “She kicks our asses on every test and every common sense thing, so whatever. One wet tee shirt contest won’t kill her.”
Sage burst out laughing. “Like we all haven’t done one.”
Andrew laughed too but Vincent rolled his eyes. “You haven’t ever been in a wet tee shirt contest.”
She growled. “You don’t know.” He nodded calmly. “And yet I feel like I do.”
I didn't know exactly when the whole discomfort thing would end with Vincent and her, but it was awkward as ass for the rest of us. Or as Sierra would say, awkward as balls. I still didn't understand the balls and ass thing. Or why Vincent and Sage couldn't just be those people who had once dated and no longer felt the same way but got along.
Lainey came back out in a black bathing suit top. It wasn't her usual competitive swimsuit so she was flashing cleavage, but it was better than being naked.
We moved from the pool to the hot tub and sat in the steam, them getting sillier and sillier, and Lainey and I getting less and less comfortable.
Sierra was trying to touch her elbows behind her back, acting like she wasn't clever enough to know not to. Sage copied her, obviously vying for Vincent’s attention. I had started to get a bit insecure about the whole thing; mousy brunettes just couldn’t compete with tall blondes. And to top it all off, that just wasn't me. I didn't do competitions.
Rita twirled her hair and laughed as she leaned into Jake and spoke with a very sudden Southern accent.
I didn't know what to make of it all and eventually I was so drained of moisture and ready for bed that I crawled for the stairs. I got out, giving Lainey a look. She followed me inside.
I wrapped myself in my towel and sat on the barstool, sipping a Perrier and staring at the door to outside.
“Sage is acting weird.”
“I know.” I looked at Lainey as she grabbed a Perrier too. “But she did wake up next to a dead girl, so maybe we should give her a bit more time before we ride her about it.”
Lainey nodded. “Are you and Vince a thing?”
I shook my head. “It’s going to sound selfish, but I like the fact he likes me. I like the fact he watches me, studying me. I’ve spent my entire life watching other people, and I always wondered if someone watched me as closely as I watched everyone else.”
“That's totally happened to you already. Don't forget the stalker killer who is watching us all the time.”
I laughed, bitterly but hard. She had a point. Of course it would be her who had made the point. She couldn't even fight saying it.
“But back to you and him.” She sighed and leaned back against the bar. “Vince has always watched you. I really thought you knew and just hated the attention.”
I shook my head. “I saw him watching, but what I’d imagined he was thinking was completely different from what it turns out he was thinking.”
“That's the problem with seeing things and hearing things. We always take our personality and our experiences and add them to everything. Our perspective changes everything. We all see things through a filter that carries all the bad things inside us, and we make assumptions based on that filter. No one ever sees the truth. They see their version of it. Even me. I will remember my version of it forever, tainted by the bad things that have happened to me.”
I turned and shook my head, taking a sip. “You are so smart, Lainey. So very smart.”
“I know.” She nodded. “It’s what comes of never forgetting anything.” She twitched a tiny bit when she said it, and I knew exactly the moment she was remembering. She chuckled softly. “I have heard that heroin takes away memories.”
“What?”
“Yeah. That's why people who have been abused or hurt take it, or do it rather. They can forget for as long as the high lasts.” Her voice trailed off. “But I bet it never lasts long enough.”
“Don't forget about the other bad parts like the picking of the sores and losing all your friends and living on the streets and being a drugged-out hooker and getting ugly.”
She laughed. She didn’t scare me. She never did drugs, no matter what. But she seemed distant, distracted. Until she turned and gave me a look. “You like him too, don't you?”
I opened my mouth as my eyes dropped to the floor, but I shook my head. It was a lie. I knew it in my heart. “I don't. He’s not my type.” It was the worst lie I had ever told.
“I’m in love with Ash.” She blurted it and I lifted my head, nodding. “I have been for so long I don't even know when I wasn't.”
“I know.” My eyes teared, I didn't even know why. Maybe her honesty and fearlessness inspired me, but I blurted it back at her, “I think I’m falling in something I don't understand with Vince.”
She smiled. “I can tell.”
I reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you know me and you are part of my life. I don't think I could make it through any of this without you.”
She sighed and glanced at the doorway, straightening her back. I snapped my head around, flinching when I saw Vincent standing there. He seemed confused.
I didn't understand why he was staring at us or why he looked so weird, hurt maybe or scared. I turned and glanced behind me, afraid the killer was there, but it was just the bar.
Lainey got up and walked toward him, exiting through the door and leaving us alone.
He had wrapped his lower body in a towel, and it was hard not to notice that the other half was still very naked.
I clung to my towel and prayed for strength of virtue and morality.
Neither of those things seemed to be readily on hand. I had admitted aloud that I was falling into something with him. Nothing else mattered.
My eyes focused on the V-shaped thing on his hips that blended into the abs, pronouncing the cut of his six-pack. I swallowed and tried to make my brain switch from staring at the V things. I honestly couldn't have named it if my life was dependent upon it, but I did know it had
me flustered.
I lifted my gaze, realizing my mistake the moment our eyes touched. His dark-green eyes were framed by thick, clumpy wet black lashes. I think I might have made a sound like a moan or a swoony sigh when our eyes met.
I had a scowl on my face. I fought the good fight, internally. But those eyes and those long lashes, and the way the water dropped down his chest had me.
It was akin to mind control the CIA might have used. Or watching Magic Mike with the sound muted.
I would have easily fallen for the subliminal messaging. I was falling for it. He walked to me, nestling himself in between my thighs and lifting my towel up them like a skirt. His cold skin burned a little against mine. He trailed his hands up my legs, making me gulp so loudly it echoed throughout the games room.
He lifted his hands, cupping my face, and stared at me, blinking those green eyes with that stare.
The smugness was gone from his gaze.
The grin he taunted me with—nowhere to be found.
In his eyes I saw my reflection and maybe the way he saw me. I blinked too, confused on where this was going until he lowered his face on mine, delicately grazing my lips with his. The kiss pulled at me, dragging me into it. My head swirled, and I didn't recall lifting my hands that were suddenly moving up into his hair.
I didn't know when it was I offered him my tongue, but it was suddenly in his grasp, sliding and massaging against his. His soft lips and the way they coaxed mine open, took away all my air. I think I volunteered it for sacrifice.
His hands slipped back around me, pulling me into him and crushing me against his bare chest. My towel fell but I didn't care if my nearly naked body touched his. I didn't care about anything.
I needed more of this. More of his kisses and his touch. More of the way my entire body was rushing about, bouncing like a Ping-Pong ball. My nerves were on fire but I didn't care.
I sucked his lip the way he had done to mine. After a moment he pulled back, tearing our faces apart. He breathed heavily, gasping almost with a heaving chest.
I was gasping completely.
That smile crested his lips as he stepped back, leaving me cold. He paused and then stepped back once more, lifting a hand to point but said nothing. He just grinned and nodded, like the conversation in his head was something we both were hearing. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me there cold and baffled.
I didn't know what had just happened, except that I had finally been kissed. I understood why people kissed so much. It wasn’t just the butterflies or the tingling sensations. It was so much more. With him I felt like I was more.
Chapter Nineteen
Dirty emails and midnight confessions
I brushed my fingers along my lips once more, remembering how it had felt. In the dark no one could see me doing it. The girls were all sleeping and it was pitch-black so I knew they didn't see. The guys were in the guesthouse and the girls in my room.
My eyes drew to the ceiling, and I wished for the millionth time she was here. If a teenaged girl ever needed her mother, it was the moment she found something desirable that she didn't understand in another person. Something that felt like it completed her.
Did I plan on dating him—no. He was my friend’s ex so he wouldn't ever be mine. At least not until she had absolutely moved on with another person. And even then it might be in secret. I didn’t want to lose the firm deniability I had, even if we were caught on camera. We were not dating.
But even though they were exes, it didn't change the fact that I wanted more of him. I wanted more kisses and more touching. I wanted to feel him against me and see where it led.
I knew where it led.
But with him I wanted to feel what going there was like.
I got up, slipping from my bed and stepping in between the beds on the floor where my friends were sleeping. Sage was snoring, as per the usual, so she masked the sound of me walking.
I tiptoed in the dark to my door, moving entirely from memorization, and opened it a crack. The hallway was dimly lit so I had to open the door fast and step out and close it quickly. I didn't want to wake anyone.
Hurrying down the hall to the stairs, I stopped short, hearing my dad talking. I held my breath, leaning against the wall and peeking down the stairs. He stood at the bottom of the stairs with Vincent.
“The police have a few theories. She was either assaulted right before she died or she had sex there, in the forest with the killer. Or the killer killed her after she had been with someone else. Her death might have even been accidental.” My dad shuddered.
My insides tightened and my heart immediately went out to Rachel’s parents who would have also received that news. It made me sick to know that detail. I prayed for them silently.
Vincent’s eyes drew up to where I was. I sensed them on me and pulled back behind the wall. Vincent sighed. “Well, we can all talk about it tomorrow. I know my father wants to know exactly what has happened and what the facts are. The girls all got those roses in their bedrooms. That's creepy.”
“The meeting is all scheduled for tomorrow. If you can get your dad to show up that would be amazing.” My dad yawned. “Sleep tight, son. And thanks again for taking care of the girls.”
“My pleasure, sir,” he answered as I glanced around the corner again, seeing my father walking down the hall, away from Vincent whose eyes were firmly fixed on me.
He narrowed his gaze, shaking his head. I smiled with amusement, hoping my excuse to come and find him would be enough. I nodded my head at the guest room next to mine and slipped into the door quietly, leaving it open for him.
I waited behind the door in the dark for him to come to me. But he didn't, not at first. My insides tingled and my heart raced as a small lump of disappointment nestled in my throat. I was just about to admit my defeat at luring him into the room to kiss me, when the door pushed open a little and then closed again. Hands reached for me in the dark, pulling me into him.
Instead of the kiss I imagined we would share, he held my face and whispered harshly, “Why are you out of your room?”
I scowled. “I wanted to see—” I paused. I couldn’t tell him I wanted to see him. That was an icky confession for me. I knew he felt the same, but I didn't want to say it. “I heard the voices and wanted to see,” I lied.
“I was trying to come to see you when your dad finally got home. He just finished talking with everyone and assumed I wanted the details of the meeting. They were there nine hours, listening to the particulars of the murder and the evidence that was found and trying to come up with a list of suspects. The police keep some of it back, so if anyone knows those specifics, it’s likely they have spoken with the killer or are the killer. So we don't know everything.”
I pulled back a bit. “I don't want to talk about this, especially not in the dark.”
He leaned in, pressing his face against mine and kissed my cheek. “You have to go back to bed. You have had a hard day, Linds. You need some sleep.”
“I know.” I slipped my hand into his and turned, pulling him to the bed in the large room. I pulled back the covers and sat on the cold sheets. I pulled him into the bed with me as I scooted over, resting my face next to his.
“We shouldn't be in here. It’s not a good idea.” He nestled into me, as if his body disagreed with his words.
“I know. But we don't have to stay here long. Just long enough for you to tell me what is going on with you.” I nodded as he kissed my neck and slid his hands over my back, lifting my shirt a bit.
“What do you mean?” he asked as he trailed his breath along my jawline, pressing soft kisses every quarter inch.
I pushed him back. “That kiss, Vince—what was that? Why did you kiss me and then leave? You said you weren’t going to kiss me until I asked you to.”
“I know, but—” His breath on my face stopped as he obviously thought about his answer for several seconds. “I had to.”
“Why were you looking so weird when you came in
the room.”
He paused again. “I heard you and Lainey talking. I heard you say you had fallen into something with me.”
My stomach clenched.
“And I never imagined in all my twisted fantasies that you would ever say those words.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Wrong week for twisted fantasies.”
“Right. Sorry.” He leaned in again but the mood was gone for me.
I had confessed my feelings to my dearest friend and he had heard them. I wasn’t comfortable with that, at all. I pulled back again.
“What just happened?” he asked.
Reality hit me in the face. It wasn't innocent kissing or having fun if he knew how I felt about him. That made it real, and he was still my friend’s ex. “I don't know. I just need to process a lot of things. We can’t even be anything right now. I didn't mean for you to hear that.”
He moved forward quickly, cupping my cheeks and pressing his lips against mine. He kissed and whispered, “I told you how I feel about you. I know you better than anyone. Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?”
I leaned into the kiss and breathed him in. “Hos before bros. And I still don't trust you.”
“You will trust me, one day.” He sighed. “And hos before bros and bros before hos is for when the people loved each other. Tom pushed Sage on me every chance he got. I didn't see it at the time, but it was more like an arranged marriage than a date. I agreed in the beginning—she was pretty and I was drunk and horny and it was fun. And secretly it meant I could be near you, which was never easy. I never cared about her that way. She’s a nice enough girl. She was fun for a while and then she wasn't fun anymore. She got more how I imagined a wife might be. The honeymoon was over and she was demanding.”
I shook my head, remembering what he had said. “Why did you say she was a crazy—whatever you called her—crazy cake?”
He paused again, obviously not willing to say what he knew. I hated secrets. When he did speak he sounded hesitant, “She is not the most stable of girls. When you told me she was found next to Rachel, I assumed she had killed Rachel. It was fleeting, but it went through my mind at least once. She is the nicest girl on earth, but she isn’t the most sound-minded one. She can go from sweet and kind to downright insane in a notably short span of time. Like seconds. I don't want to talk about this, at all.”