A woman enjoying her life without thinking about some guy she was hooking up with in the past.
Casual,I remind myself, feeling something crop up in my throat.
We were always casual.
She owes me nothing. Sheshouldbe posting hot thirst traps.
And on my side, I owehernothing.
Still, something jealous and raw twinges in my gut.
If we’re doing casual, fine, let’s do it.
I flip my phone in my hand, smirking to myself.
It’s 10:30 p.m.
An hour when smart decisions go to sleep and dangerous ones wake up.
I open our messages, and my thumb hovers. A devious idea creeps into me. One she won’t be expecting.
I want to make her pulse race the way mine is now.
I type something, bold, teasing and absolutelynotcasual.
And before I can second-guess it, I hit send with my own heart pounding.
I stare at the glowing screen, but I’m already imagining her reaction.
Chapter Twenty-One
ELENA
Harper is still talking about some guy from her building. She’s saying something about him being “emotionally constipated but with really good shoulders,” but I’m barely listening.
I’m floating on my back in the warm pool, letting the ceiling lights blur into soft halos overhead.
This was supposed to be arelaxingnight.
A normal girls’ night at a nice pool, inside. A pre-cabo thing.
Not…whatever this has become.
I glance toward the lounge chairs where I left my towel.
My phone sits there, screen glowing up at me like an omen.
I blame Harper entirely, but the thing is, I don’t post thirst traps.
I don’t do bikini photos. That’s just never been me.
ButHarperhad insisted.
“Show off that bod your trainer chiseled for you.”
“And if your ex sees it? Let him choke. Come on. Nothing wrong with showing off your progress.”
So, after contemplating for a few minutes, I finally posted it.
