Goose bumps prickle my skin when he nudges my bare shoulder with a chilled bottle of beer. My eyes bounce between the clear bottle of beer with a wedge of lime crammed in the neck and the full cup of bland soda I’m grasping in my hand. When my eyes drift to the pool, and I spot Hugo still training to be a lifeguard, I place the soda on the ground and accept the bottle from Rhys. Leaning back in the chair, I take a generous swig of the frosted beverage. My face grimaces at the bitter flavor engulfing my taste buds. Rhys grins before dragging the chair Jorgie vacated closer to me. When he straddles it backwards, his glistening hazel eyes turn from Hugo and his posse of female friends to me.
“You’re best friends with Hugo’s little sister Jorgie, aren’t you?” he queries.
I nod before taking another swig of beer. I try to keep the repulsed expression off my face as I swallow the ghastly liquid. Even though it tastes disgusting, the coolness of the beverage is helping to lessen the furious rage burning a hole in my heart.
“Then why haven’t I seen you at any of Hugo’s parties before?” Rhys asks.
My eyes snap to his. “Is this a regular occurrence?” I ask apprehensively.
He smiles against the seam of his beer before nodding his head. “It isn’t normally here, though. It’s normally held at the lookout or down by the river.”
“Oh,” I mumble before taking another mouth-filling gulp of beer. “I’ve never been invited before.”
Now, I’m guzzling the beer down so quickly, my taste buds don’t get the chance to protest the abhorrent taste.
“These parties have an open invitation, sweetheart; you don’t need to be invited.” Rhys informs me.
My eyes burn as I fight to swallow the beer in my mouth instead of splattering it all over Rhys’ face. I’ve never been called a term of endearment before, let alone one as endearing as sweetheart.
“Ah, now it makes sense,” Rhys mutters softly.
My eyes shift back to his. “What makes sense?”
His worldly eyes absorb my face before they drop to my baggy boyfriend jeans and one shoulder knitted sweater. “You’re fresh meat,” he says, his voice hesitant.
My cheeks get a rush of blood forming beneath them. “Excuse me?” I ask, my words quivering.I may be naïve, but even I know what that saying means.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Ava. It just makes sense why I’ve never seen you at these types of functions before. They’re not suitable for--” His eyes say the word his mouth fails to produce.
Dying from embarrassment, I lose the ability to maintain eye contact. Lifting the beer to my mouth, I guzzle the remaining smidgen. Noticing my beer is empty, Rhys opens the lid of a cooler at his side and cracks open another bottle. After squeezing a lime into the neck, he hands it to me.
“You need to slow down your guzzling if you’re not used to drinking, Ava. That’s not soda in that bottle,” he suggests softly.
I smile a thanks before drifting my eyes to the gathering of people milling near the pool. I freeze with the seam of the bottle pressed against my lips when I catch the murderous glare of Hugo. His head is angled to the side, and his brow is arched high. His stern gaze follows the beer when I lower it from my mouth and rest it on my shaking thigh. I lean deeper into the chair, moving away from the warmth of the fire since the heat of Hugo’s glare is roasting my skin. I timidly shake my head when Hugo motions for me to join him in the pool. His narrowed eyes slit even more before his angry gaze shifts between Rhys and me. The furious scowl on his face doesn’t lessen when I playfully screw up my nose and stick out my tongue.
My heart rate quickens when the lean muscles in Hugo’s arm flex as he lifts himself out of the pool. Even with the blare of music pumping through the crisp night air, I don’t miss the disdained gasps of the cheerleaders devastated by his brisk departure. I roll my eyes when a flurry of girls congregate around him to offer him a towel or a birthday kiss. Inwardly gagging from their desperateness, I turn my gaze back to Rhys.
His eyes shift between Hugo and me. “I didn’t realize you had an older brother,” he mumbles against the rim of his bottle.
“I don’t,” I reply through clenched teeth.
“Boyfriend?” Rhys probes, staring into my eyes. In the moonlight, the brown flicks in his eyes are more prominent, making them dazzle ever brighter.
A heartwarming smirk curls on his lips when I shake my head. Rhys takes a sip of his beer as his eyes turn back to the pool. His small smirk morphs into an amused smile.
“Prepare yourself, Ava,” he warns.
I’m so immersed in unearthing what’s ignited the spark in Rhys’ eyes that I don’t notice the prowler sneaking up on me until it too late. With a rough yank on my wrist, I’m thrusted from my chair and hoisted over a broad shoulder. A chill runs through my body when freezing droplets of water are absorbed by my bland red sweater. Not having anywhere else to grasp, my hands shoot down to secure a deathly tight grip on a pair of drenching wet black cotton boxer shorts.
“Put me down, Hugo,” I wail when his familiar smell invades my senses.
I kick as hard as possible, aiming for the one part of his anatomy I know will slow him down. My squirms come to an immediate halt when his open palm slaps my backside. The sting of both pleasure and pain rushes through to my core, making me ache with desire.
“Time for a swim, Ava,” Hugo mutters.
I dig my nails into the rock-hard muscles of his lower back when the marble tiles surrounding the edge of the pool come into vision.
“Don’t you dare throw me in the po--”
