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Chapter 3
ThegatetoScott’spool creaked open. He was lying on a pool chair, so he lifted his head to look over at me with a big smile. “Hey,” he called, waving me over to his spot.
I felt a little shy but put on my usual brave front. I wasn’t in prime shape anymore—not like I was when I was dancing for fifteen hours a week in my teenage years—and eating Oreos with my dad at night wasn’t helping. But Ivy Jones didn’t hide her body. Ivy Jones was full of confidence and light. Besides, I had a cute cover-up that hid most of me. For now, at least.
I sauntered over to him and took in the glorious sight of Scott King. My goodness. When we were teenagers, Amy and I would swim in the pool at their giant mansion. But the best part was when Scott would join us. Well, he wouldn’t exactly join us. He’d swim laps around us and try to ignore our annoying splashes and jumps. But even in high school, he had an incredible body. He was on the water polo team and was one of the most fit sixteen-year-olds I’d ever seen. After high school, he still swam, but also spent time at the gym. Honestly, the man could have been an underwear model. His body was perfect, all cut lines and muscles, which showed perfectly in his swim trunks. And then his face. The ideal jawline with dark, broody eyes made every girl swoon. Just ask the ones at Hannah and Evan’s wedding.
“Care to dance?” he asked.
Was he for real? Out of all the girls here at this wedding, he askedmeto dance? No way was I turning him down. “Sure,” I said with a shrug. I didn’t miss the jealous stares of the girls around us, hoping Scott would choose them.
His hands slid around my waist, sending a shiver up my spine. I embraced my bold side and wrapped my arms around his neck, flashing him a big, flirty smile. He smiled right back at me. I loved that he wasn’t intimidated by me.
“You look really nice,” he whispered.
“Oh, this old thing?” I laughed. “Just kidding. Thank you. You look pretty incredible yourself.”
He smirked, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. That was new. Hope stirred in my chest that he might be seeing me as a grown woman now, and not just his little sister’s best friend.
I spread my towel on the pool chair next to his and settled in, lying back and resting my head. “Enjoying your Saturday?” I asked.
“It’s better now,” he said with a grin, but I could read the discomfort in him.
“Something happen at work?” He was an investment banker, which was already a demanding job, but there was always drama between him and the owner’s son, Ethan Taylor. It wasn’t any fault of his own, but I knew it weighed on him.
“No.” He shook his head, then cleared his throat, hesitating to say more. I waited patiently, hoping he would reveal his feelings. “I was thinking about Amy coming back home.”
“Ah.” I didn’t know how to help him there. He and Amy had not ended things on great terms. He tried to keep her from Lucas, then tried to stop her from following her own path at the gala that changed everything.
“I feel like I’m being super hypocritical,” he continued. “I know what you and I have isn’t public or anything, but I still feel bad.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I said with a light laugh. Poor Scott. “We’re just friends. It’s not like we’re changing our life choices for each other.”
He nodded slowly, turning his gaze back up to the sky. His body relaxed a little, but his jaw clenched behind his cheek. “Do you have plans when they come home tonight?”
“Watching movies and settling in. We’re going to hang out with Hannah and Evan tomorrow.”
“It’s strange that Evan got absorbed into your friend group now,” he chuckled. He and Evan had been friends in high school, which is why Scott was invited to their wedding in the first place.
“Well, we’re the cool kids,” I said, settling back into my chair. The sun was beating down on me, so I pulled off my coverup. I didn’t miss Scott’s eyes roving over my body as I laid back down.
“Hey, now. Just friends, remember?” I shot him a smile.
Scott laughed. “Don’t pretend you weren’t checking me out earlier.”
I shrugged a shoulder. My high-waisted bikini was doing its job at hiding my food baby. We laid in companionable silence for a few moments until my phone buzzed with a phone call. I pulled it out of my bag and saw Lisa’s name.
“It’s the studio owner. I need to take it,” I told Scott.
He gave a “go-ahead” gesture, and I answered the phone.
“Hey, Lisa! What’s up?” I asked.
“Hey, Ivy. Sorry for calling on a Saturday. I know it’s your day off.”
“No worries. I’m hanging out by the pool.”
She paused for a moment. I could imagine her running her fingers through her short red bob, blue eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I wanted to talk to you about next year’s competition teams. We’re going to post the official list tomorrow, but I wanted to call you personally to talk about it first.”
