by Lyla Payne
“That was a new personal best for him, wasn’t it?” The girl with the dark red hair turned away from me, asking the boy next to her.
“Yes. By almost two whole seconds.”
Their unmistakable Scottish accents jerked my head around, and the fact that both of the boys on the girl’s far side were slightly older, scruffier versions of Cole filled my head with disbelief. All of the places to sit, and somehow I ended up next to who had to be Cole’s siblings.
The girl did look familiar, probably from Recruitment. My brain dug through piles of profiles and came up with the name Audra, but the boys’ names escaped me, even though Cole had told me.
One of them caught me looking and winked, heating my cheeks before I turned away. So much for scouting undetected.
Her brother’s wink whipped Audra’s head around and she smiled, probably because my face looked like a tomato. “Hi. Ignore Law. He thinks he’s a cad but really, his girlfriend humors him.”
“It’s okay,” I mumbled, shrugging out of my pink cardigan. The flimsy tank top underneath didn’t offer much in the way of modesty, but the scrutiny from Law and the muggy heat of the pool were making my deodorant work overtime.
Audra squinted at me, pushing sweaty red bangs off her face. “You look familiar. Delta Epsilon?”
I nodded. “Ruby Cotton.”
She nodded. “Audra Stuart. DE was my second choice, and I loved the house. Kappa legacy, though.”
Legacies were pretty much shoo-ins, musts on bid day, not that Audra looked like she wouldn’t fit right in there. They were the female equivalents of the Lambdas. “Kappa’s great.”
“I like it so far. I mean, I need to upgrade my jean collection, but other than that.” Her wide, friendly smile made me want to grin back, the way Cole’s did.
The second boy reached over his twin and Audra, holding out a hand. “I’m Lennox. Nox to most people. Sorry my siblings are rude.”
“It’s okay,” I said again like a moron, shaking his hand. I thought about going back to my own business, but I would look extra stupid later if they found out I’d been here to watch Cole and hadn’t said something. Only a real cement head wouldn’t pick up on the fact that they were related.
The last thing I needed was for them to think I was a dumbshit in addition to being loudmouthed bayou trash.
“You’re Cole’s family.”
Their eyes slid to me all at once, as though they were connected by more than genetics. Audra’s eyebrows went up. “You know our brother?”
“Yes. We’re both social-chairing right now and we’re paired for Homecoming and crap. Mixer last night, too.”
The boys turned back to the meet, probably bored with undergrad Greek talk, but Audra twisted toward me, crossing her legs and balancing on the thin metal bleacher. “How was it?”
It didn’t seem to be the question she wanted to ask.
“Don’t you want to watch your brother? When does he swim again?”
She grinned. “Are you here to watch Cole swim?”
This girl had laser focus. Yeesh. “We’re supposed to do something afterward and I didn’t have anything else to do, so….”
Audra squealed and clapped her hands. “I knew it! You’re just Cole’s type.”
As she slung her arm through mine, scooting closer and turning back to the action, I reminded myself she didn’t know anything about me. Based on Chaney’s looks, maybe Cole preferred blondes, but my daddy didn’t own half of Charleston and I wasn’t a few years from becoming a biochemical engineer, either.
Even so, Audra’s quick acceptance wrapped me in a strange warmth, sort of the way I felt at the sorority house on a good, lazy afternoon. She pointed toward Cole and then waved when he saw us, making me want to melt into the floor and die, hopefully to be mopped up and disposed. He grinned, dimples visible from halfway across the room, and nodded.
My stomach tightened, nerves returned at the newness and uncertainty of this thing with Cole. Now I’d unwittingly inserted myself further in his life by meeting his brothers and sister. I shook it off. This was a Whitman swim meet. Why shouldn’t I be here?
“Which event is he swimming next?” I asked as Cole put his cap on again, shaking out his arms and legs to limber up and ruining another pair of my underwear in the process.
“Butterfly,” Audra replied, her cheeks pink from the heat. “It’s his best event, but he’s the best IM on the team, too.”
“IM?”
“It’s a medley of all four strokes. Really hard. I tried to swim one length of the pool freestyle once and swear to Jesus, almost died.” She laughed, and it relaxed me further.
The Stuarts might have more money than the Queen, but they had an easy way about them that made me wonder about their parents, and what life in Scotland looked like when they were children. They reminded me of the kids I’d grown up with on the bayou, before Dad’s company hit it big and Mom’s workouts hit syndication, before we’d traded the country swamps for the old money of Saint Charles Ave.
Simple and honest.
“Where are you from, Ruby?” one of the boys, I thought Law, asked.
“New Orleans.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to go there! Is it as crazy as the movies make it seem?” Audra’s green eyes were darker than Cole’s, emerald, but sparkled with the same interest.
“It can be. Definitely go for Mardi Gras before you graduate.”
Cole climbed onto the starting block and all three of his siblings straightened up, paying attention to their brother. The starting horn blasted and he flew up and out, body held in a rigid arc before he sliced underneath the water. His movements down the pool and back, two times each way, mesmerized me. Water sluiced away from his skin and his lower body kicked like a dolphin, easily outpacing the opponents on either side of him. His bronzed muscles gleamed until I swore the temperature in the room raised another ten degrees.
He finished first, tearing off his cap and watching the final times go up before slapping the water in victory. The grin he shot toward his siblings flipped my stomach like a pancake, even though it was for them and not me. They flew to their feet, hooting and hollering and making a general ruckus that encouraged everyone around them to do the same.
Audra plopped down and caught me smiling. “He’s fucking something, huh?”
I felt my eyes widen, then a giggle escaped. “He’s something. I haven’t figured out exactly what, yet.”
“What do you mean?” Concern edged her pretty eyes with lines.
“Oh, nothing.” I didn’t want to insult her brother. Audra seemed really sweet, and the boys were friendly, but they’d just met me and Cole was family.
“Ruby, come on. He’s my brother, not my boyfriend.”
“He’s just a little…stiff. Proper,” I amended quickly, the word stiff conjuring images in my mind that weren’t helping my flustered thoughts.
“I thought stiff was good,” Nox mused, shooting me an evil grin.
“I have it on good authority that girls love stiffness.” Law agreed with his twin, nodding seriously.
“You guys are gross.” Audra rolled her eyes, turning her back on them again. “Do you have brothers?”
I shook my head, torn between laughing and being embarrassed.
“Do you want mine?”
“Kind of,” I admitted.
We all cracked up then, the boys standing and stretching after a minute. I noticed the rest of the crowd had started moving. The meet must be over; the swimmers had exited the deck, too.
“Did we win?”
“Of course!” Nox said, stepping over me and patting my head. “It was nice to meet you. When you figure out you’re way too pretty for my doofus brother, call me!”
Law shoved him forward, shooting me an apologetic smile, and the boys disappeared out the gym door.
“Cole does have a rod up his ass.”
I raised my eyebrows at his sister, who looked far more innocent than she seemed to be, somet
hing I related to. My blonde hair and blue eyes made most people assume I was sweet. “An actual rod, or?”
She snorted. “Not that I know of.” Audra bit her lip, casting a quick glance around, as though someone might overhear. “Seriously, you might have to give him a little time. He doesn’t—”
“What are you two beauties talking about?” Cole interrupted smoothly. His tone joked, but the dark tint to his eyes said that he’d cut his sister off on purpose.
“Nothing.” Audra stood and pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek. “I was just sitting with Ruby until you were finished. Good meet.”
“I didn’t know you knew each other.”
“We didn’t, but she was very helpful,” I supplied.
Cole gave his sister a look. “That’s my Audra. Helpful to a fault.”
An understanding of some kind passed between them, and her shoulders sagged a little. The playful expression on her face shifted into a sad one. Add the fact that Cole definitely didn’t want Audra talking to me about something specific, something that made her sad, to the list of things I wanted to know about him.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to your date; I’m meeting Blair for a workout. Be careful, Cole. Nox is already trying to poach.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not an egg.”
She laughed and reached out to squeeze my hand. “You’re hilarious. Let’s get together for coffee sometime.”
Audra left Cole and me alone. I actually thought having coffee with her would be fun—she probably needed girlfriends with all the testosterone four brothers brought to the table, but she had the Kappas now. She didn’t need me, too, but it was nice of her to say it.
In fact, all of the Stuarts were really fucking nice. Friendly. If I didn’t know better from going on three years of experience, I’d be tempted to believe that it was possible to find men at Whitman who didn’t believe money mattered more than anything.
“I leave you alone for one morning and my brothers are trying to steal you away.” Cole gave me a smile, one filled with dimples and just for me this time.
My knees wobbled but I hid it, elbowing him. “I’m keeping my Stuart options open.”
“I don’t think I can allow that.”
“Don’t worry, you’re still in the running.”
He leaned down, sweeping me into a hug and laughing into my neck. The vibrations spread gooseflesh down my arms and I tightened them around his neck for a moment before shoving my way loose.
I straightened my tank top and put my cardigan back on, an attempt to guard myself against the way too easy feeling of being with Cole. “So, where are you taking me? It better be good. Nox promised Paris and macarons for dessert.”
***
Cole surprised me by suggesting we take my car instead of a driver, even though he insisted on piloting because he wanted the destination to be a surprise. It didn’t take long before the direction became clear, though, and it wasn’t much in the way of a surprise in South Florida.
“You’re taking me to the beach?”
“Ah. Not just any beach.” He rummaged in the trunk and emerged with a light blue blanket and a black cooler bag he’d stowed earlier, which he slung over his shoulder, then held out a hand. “Come with me if you want to live.”
I rolled my eyes. “What does a Scotsman know about Superman?”
“What does a pretty girl from Louisiana know about Superman?” He countered.
“Fair enough. So, what’s special about this beach?”
“I own it.” He flashed me some dimples. “Well, our family does, anyway. Gavin’s charity bought it recently, with plans to develop it as a retreat for critically ill children.”
Now that he mentioned it, no other cars were parked on the slab of asphalt, and the dunes were empty and silent except for the sound of the waves licking the shore. “How much?”
“As far as you can see, and it butts against the Rowland property on that end, so it’s about as secluded as a Florida beach gets.” He led me between two dunes, spreading out the blanket tucked under his arm while I attempted to keep my white skirt from forcing me into an unintentional Marilyn Monroe impression.
We settled on the ground, shifting until it was comfortable. I gave up on propriety and crossed my legs, jamming my skirt down in the middle to stop it from blowing. Cole unpacked a mountain of tinfoil packages and a bottle of clear Puerto Rican rum.
“That is a lot of food. Are you expecting the rest of the swim team?”
“I’m always starving after a meet. Here. Help me unwrap.”
I grabbed the nearest package and dug at the foil. The sight of boiled crawfish hitched my progress but I didn’t comment. The next one contained grilled oysters, and by the time we were finished, a Cajun feast spread out between us. Along with the crawfish and oysters, Cole had somehow procured red beans and rice, fried chunks of catfish and okra, smoked boudin, and pretty much everything I’d missed since trading the actual South for South Florida.
A lump tried to form in my throat. “Where did you get all of this?”
“I have my ways. Do you like it?” Cole’s lakewater eyes lit with anticipation, along with the slightest bit of worry.
He looked like a little boy waiting to be praised and for some reason, the idea that he’d gone out of his way for me made me want to cry and run away at the same time. Instead, I tried to smile. “I love it. The food here is good, but a girl can only eat so much Spanish cuisine, right?”
“I’ve always much preferred France, myself,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on my face, an expression of consternation tightening his cheeks.
“This spot is lovely.”
He shrugged and twisted off a crawfish tail the way I’d taught him, but chose the meat instead of the brains. “No shame in taking advantage of one’s wealth now and again.”
“If you say so.”
“Seriously, Ruby, do you never enjoy the money your parents’ hard work has afforded you? It’s not a crime to come from a well-off family.”
The question made my palms itch for some reason, the discomfort spreading into other parts of me. It might have been because the money had been made after my birth, after I’d spent years running around barefoot with other ragamuffin kids in the swamp, that this life still felt as though it belonged to someone else. Coming to Whitman, my relationship with Michael my freshman year, it all proved to me that I would never be good enough.
I didn’t know how to say that and still hang on to my dignity.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I would never have gotten into a school with the kinds of connections Whitman offers otherwise, and I’ll be able to move to New York and pursue acting without having to wonder where my next meal is coming from or whether or not I’m going to be eaten alive by raccoon-sized rats in a gross apartment. But I guess I’m still not used to it. People treat me differently.”
“I think it’s because you treat yourself differently, even though it’s not really as true as you think it is. Everyone loves you.” He twisted the cap off the bottle of rum and poured it into a half-full Whitman water bottle that had muddled mint leaves and what looked like sugar and soda at the bottom, then shook it gently.
“The girls love me, because they think it’s adorable to have someone loud and uncultured as a friend, and I love them, too. Guys love to drink and laugh with me, and they love to get me into bed, but that’s where it ends.”
“And you’re not looking for more than a good fuck, anyway, is that it?” Cole raised his eyebrows, vague disappointment in his gaze. “Isn’t that why you started the website?”
Annoyance battled with chagrin. It had started that way, after that night with Chaney and hearing Ginny and Larissa’s stories, but now…I wasn’t sure why it had taken hold, but if Quinn was right—and he usually was, the ass—it encompassed more than which guys were good in bed. “So, what? If all guys are willing to give me at Whitman is a roll in the proverbial hay, why shouldn’t I expect it to be good?”
He took a swig of the concoction—some kind of mojito—and passed it to me. The sweet liquid burned the back of my throat and down my esophagus, but the pain felt good. Anchoring. Cole moved closer, tossing empty tinfoil and plastic silverware back into the cooler to make room, until his hands closed over mine.
“I think, Ruby Cotton, that you should expect everything from any man who spends time with you with romantic intentions. A man who will please you and be proud of you.”
If anyone but Cole Stuart said that to me, I’d have snorted mint leaves out my nose. His earnest tone and the way he looked into my eyes stilled my cynicism, but it opened up all of the sores that had scabbed over, each one born of a different rejection. It hurt too much to believe that what Emilie and Quinn had wasn’t an aberration, that maybe it did exist. Focusing on a good lay had seemed more achievable, but here Cole was, urging me to believe in unicorns.
“What kind of intentions do you have, Cole? Other than convincing me your website ratings are bogus, I mean.” The idea that all of this was part of a design to patch his injured pride still held me back from believing he actually liked me.
“I have many intentions, and the website issue is only incidental.”
“Incidental?” The warm autumn air seemed too thick with him hovering so close.
“Yes. It gave me another excuse to talk to you, but I find that the more time I spend with you, the less it matters what anyone else believes about my reputation.”
My heart thudded in my ears but I fought the dizziness. Battled the belief in unicorns that wanted so badly to rise to the surface. “Another excuse?”
His ears turned bright red, the way they had in the car the day he drove me home in the thunderstorm. “I volunteered to take over Social Chair because you’re in charge of Delta’s.”
Shock dropped my jaw. “And the Coterie?”
“I may have suggested it to Geoff.”