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There’s something else I can feel. Or sense? It’s weird, and my heart beats faster. On three, Vaughn is silently saying without moving a muscle. Encouraging me to go for it. I quickly drop my gaze and shake off the weird sensation.
I pull in a deep breath and on the count of three, I dive into the water. I swim underneath, fanning my arms out in smooth, even strokes, using my legs in short, leisurely kicks. It’s blissfully calm, the weightless feeling, the quiet. I forget how chilly the water is and float the last few feet to the shallow end.
Breaking the surface, I take a deep breath. The sun is quick to warm my shoulders. I dip my head back to smooth my hair away from my face then step up the stairs out of the water. Dixie pays me no attention, so in an uncharacteristic move, I flip her the double bird. It feels good. And then it doesn’t. Because Vaughn claps, having caught my rude gesture, I’m guessing. I immediately drop my arms and, without looking in his direction, hurry back to my chair. I didn’t think he and his friend were still there, watching. Luckily, hedges block their view of where Dixie and I are situated. “I’m so embarrassed.” I palm my cheeks to hide the pinkness I’m sure is there.
“Why?” Dixie questions as she cranes her neck to see where the applause came from. “Because your bikini turns transparent in water?”
My bikini is fully lined. I know she’s trying to mess with me, and yet I can’t help but check myself.
She resumes scribbling in her notebook. “Who’s the hottie with Vaughn?”
“I don’t know.” I lift up the back of the lounge chair so I can sit against it, my legs straight out in front of me.
“Of course you don’t,” Dixie huffs in a tone that suggests my uselessness has reached a new benchmark. She doesn’t even bother looking up.
I contemplate going inside the house to hang out with Snowflake and Google help wanted ads, but I’m not about to let my sister run me off with her toxic attitude. As of this moment, I’m over letting her bother me. The warm SoCal sun is glowing, the air is citrus-fresh, and I’m free to be who and what I want for the rest of the summer.
Settling more comfortably into my chair, we sit in silence that lasts until I hear a heavy knock, the white picket side gate unlatching, and a guy call out, “Hey, mind if we join you?”
I don’t recognize the voice, but then I hear his. “It’s Vaughn,” he shouts, his voice deeper than the first, and a little hesitant, like it wasn’t his idea to show up here. “And my friend Dylan.”
Dixie and I look at each other. My eyes feel like they’re about to cannonball out of their sockets. She’s half naked, for God’s sake. Her eyes, on the other hand, are inscrutable behind dark glasses. I don’t hear the gate close, so I think the guys are waiting for the okay. “Do we mind?” I ask quietly.
“I don’t mind,” she says, sitting up and slinging the towel around her neck again. She’s covered. Barely.
“We come with libations,” Dylan shouts.
“Well come on back, then,” Dixie calls in return. I remind myself this is our backyard and I can relax. Vaughn might make me nervous, but I’m in control here.
“Sweet Jesus,” Dylan says, looking between Dixie and me. His eyes dart to Vaughn and I’m not sure what that’s about, but I don’t have time to ponder it, because then he looks back at Dixie and gives her a full-wattage smile that really is dazzling. She smiles back. It’s not the kind that says she’s impressed. More like she’s clocking his cocky game from a mile away.
“Hey,” Vaughn says to Dixie with a nod before he turns to look down at me. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I say softly.
“This is Dylan.” He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb. “Dylan, meet Kendall and Dixie.”
“Great to meet you both,” Dylan says. He’s holding a pitcher of what looks like margaritas in one hand and some clear plastic cups in the other. “Hold this for me?” he adds, deliberately handing the pitcher to Dixie.
She takes it, giving anyone who’s looking flashes of the twins. Vaughn’s not looking, and his lack of interest lifts my heart dangerously close to crush level. Dylan’s a different story. He grabs one of the nearby cushioned chairs, the iron feet scraping the brick while he gets comfortable next to her lounge chair.
“That spot taken?” Vaughn says. He nods right next to me, and my pulse gallops.
I’ve thought about him a lot this week. A. Lot. I followed him on Instagram for a glimpse into his model life—and grinned like a fool when he followed me back. Most recently, he posted a couple of pictures from his photo shoot in Miami. I posted one of me eating a hot dog from Pink’s Hot Dogs. (For the record, it wasn’t as good as Mo’s.) Our lives are completely different. His face is on display for millions to fall in love with. He hangs out with celebrities, travels, parties. I’m most comfortable in my pajamas, savor solitude, and sometimes feel like I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. The very last thing I want is to be on people’s radar. Once upon a time I dreamed of being in the spotlight, but not anymore. Part of the reason I gave up on acting is because I value my privacy. Call me a coward, but I can’t handle having my mistakes splashed around for public consumption. It’s not that I don’t own them—I do—but they affect more people than just me, and I never forget that.
But right here, right now, it’s just us, and all Vaughn wants is a place to park his super-fine butt. Next to me. “Have a seat,” I say, patting the spot. He looks too good to be true in cargo shorts and a white threadbare T-shirt that’s half tucked in the front. His light brown hair is finger-combed back from his face. Stubble lines his angular jaw.
He sits, his gaze sliding over me from head to toe and back up until his eyes meet mine. “Thanks.”
“Ladies, my lemon margarita. There is nothing better on a warm day.” Dylan hands one to Dixie. Pours another and offers it to me.
“Oh, I don’t know. I can think of one or two things to do on a summer day that hit the spot better than a cold drink,” Dixie says, innuendo clearly lacing her words.
“No, thank you. I’m good,” I tell Dylan.
“I knew I liked you the second I laid eyes on you,” Dylan says to Dixie.
Dixie laughs. “Everyone likes me when they first lay eyes on me. But fair warning, I don’t play nice.”
