Page 4 of Bitter Truths

I glance back at Weller. “You coming?”

He leans back, one arm propped behind him. “I think I’ll enjoy the view for now.”

I feel feverish. I plunge into the water to escape. The cold against my overheated skin is shocking.

By the time the sun lowers in the sky, my limbs feel loose and heavy from swimming, splashing, and laughing. The rock beneath me is warm against my back, soaking into my skin as I stretch out and catch my breath.

Above me, tree branches kaleidoscope the sky in blue, green, and gold. My wet hair clings to my neck. My bikini sticks in all the wrong places. I shift and sigh, both content and restless.

This is my moment. I sit up and spot the empty soda bottle near the scattered food wrappers. I grip the glass bottle and shift to my knees, acutely aware of their attention.

“Who’s up for a game?”

Tristan leans back on his elbows, watching me as if I just lit a match in a dry field.

“What kind of game?”

My fingers tighten around the bottle. The sun casts ribbons of light across the stone, and I feel every pair of eyes lock on me. My skin prickles.

I try to sound casual, but it comes out higher than I’d like. “It’s called It’s My 18th Birthday and I’ve Never Been Kissed.”

A beat of silence follows.

Freddie makes a strangled sound. “Wait. Never?”

Owen blinks, stunned. Tristan whistles low, amused. Weller remains still.

I bite my lower lip, noting how their eyes follow the movement. “Nope. Not once.”

“Winston cannot be that good at scaring off every guy. I mean, he’s good, but...” Freddie mutters.

I interrupt him with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, Freddie. Winston isn’t the only reason, right?” I glance between them, distributing the blame. “You all have made it impossible for me. If someone even thinks about talking to me, here come the four horsemen of cock-blocking.” I spread my arms dramatically. “What’s a girl to do?”

Owen barks a laugh, unable to hide his satisfaction.

“Bianca.” Weller says my name in the tone he uses when he scolds me.

I interject before he gains momentum.

“It’s my birthday.” I soften my expression to pure innocence, breaking down his barriers. “Please? Can’t we have a little fun?”

After a moment, he nods.

I waste no time spinning the bottle. The glass clinks and skitters across the stone, stopping with its neck pointed straight at Freddie.

His green eyes drop to my mouth and stay there.

I crawl to him. The rough stone bites at my palms and knees, but the discomfort pales in comparison to the pull toward him. Knowing I’m being particularly provocative, I don’t dare look at the others.

I bridge the final gap between us and brush my lips against his—soft, testing. His hand hovers near my waist without touching, and I can tell he’s holding back. I deepen the kiss, and nothing exists except his mouth on mine.

He tastes like cherry soda—sweet and summery. It sinks into me slowly, warm and dizzying.

When I pull back, his eyes flutter open, and that charming smile appears. I can’t resist leaning in to kiss him again.

His laughter vibrates against my lips, the joyful sound resonating through my body.