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Can you blame her?
I give her a look from across the pool.
She frowns at my text when she gets it. Types back aggressively.
I can yeah, I think she’s a bitch.
That’s her throwing the first punch and my jaw goes tight. That annoys me. Feel defensive of Jordan. Pretty sure she’s actually just trying to be a good friend in a fucking weird way.
Don’t call her that.
You’re defending her?
Yes.
Why?
Because—
I glare over at her for a second before looking back down at my phone and taking a swing.
we’re dating.
I know.
Parks’s eyes are pinched, waiting for my reply.
I deliver the next hit.
And you don’t have a fucking leg to stand on because you’re dating Julian.
And then, in true Magnolia Parks fashion, she delivers the fatal blow:
*Fucking.
Fuck me, I could nearly double over from that one. I blink wide a few times. Stare at my phone. My jaw’s gone tight. I nod once at her from across the pool and her eyes already look full of regret and it gives me a tiny shot of relief that some things never change.
Right
Right.
It’s about to get ugly.
She’s digging her heels into the ground, ready for the push back. I’m winding my arm up like Popeye.
I can feel it in me.
We’re about to go UFC on each other where there are no rules except eye gouging, only I know she’d eye gouge me any fucking day of the week to win. Christian was an eye gouge. Dating Tom was an eye gouge. Moving to New York was an eye gouge. Jack-Jack Cavan was an eye gouge.
Fucking Jules is a fucking eye gouge.
And I’m about to get up and go hook up with Jordan in the spa in front of her when Henry, Christian and the girls dander up from the lake.
“Dinner?” Daisy asks everyone brightly, and thank god for the only Haites I like.
Daisy cooks. Huntsman Pies, insanely good.
I’m going to enroll Parks into cooking classes.
