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TWO
GRACIE
I can already feelthe alcohol warming my blood and bringing a flush to my neck and cheeks. The pool water is a few degrees warmer than I was hoping as it hits my upper stomach in soft waves.
It’s only been a few hours since we arrived in Cancún, Mexico, but I couldn’t wait to get out and explore the resort once I made it to my room. Based on how luxurious it is, I must owe Oakley thousands of dollars for my stay. Not like he would let me pay him back. My brother’s love language is definitely acts of service.
A group of guys who look similar in age to the ones I arrived here with is lined up along the edge of the pool, chatting and slinging back pee-coloured frothy liquid in plastic cups.
I noticed them as soon as I slid in the water and finished the remainder of my strawberry daiquiri. That was not even five minutes ago. Since then, I haven’t been able to ignore the looks of interest that have spread across several of their faces. It’s not like they’ve been subtle about their attraction to me either. The spiky-haired blond third from the end has been leaning forward past his buddies to sneak a glance at me more than a few times.
Growing up dancing, I’ve never found myself to be overly self-conscious. My body has been worked to the max for far too long to ignore the tight, thick muscles of my abdomen and thighs or the generous lift of my backside. Nevertheless, I’ve never appreciated being gawked at like a piece of meat by alcohol-guzzling men.
Crouching just enough that the water reaches my collarbones, I set my empty cup down on the edge of the pool and move my arms in front of me, spreading my fingers to allow the water to move between them. It’s noisy, conversations taking place close by and the sound of bare feet clapping on the pool deck. The speakers above the bar behind me play a familiar song, and I hum along, closing my eyes.
I’m not sure how long I stay in the same spot, back pressed to the pool tile and basking in the sun, but when I open my eyes again, the group of men has been replaced with a rigid, bare-chested Tyler. A beautifully half-naked, wet Tyler, who’s glaring at me with eyes dark enough to send a shiver up my spine.
Swallowing hard, I reach up to fiddle with the scrunchie holding my hair up and smile. Desire pools low in my belly, and my chest begins to ache, my heart skipping beats. My body’s reaction to him is expected but not welcomed. Not when he’s looking at me like he wants to throw my ass in the ocean and feed me to a shark.
His sharp jaw clenches, lips in a tight line, but I don’t let my smile drop. It grows instead as I wave him over and smack the edge of the pool beside me. “Stop glaring at me, Ty. You’re making everyone nervous.”
He quirks a brow, and I swear his mouth twitches like he wants to smile. My heart soars when he rolls his eyes and stalks toward me. His tall, fit body slices through the water with a confidence that has my thighs pressing together.
“You should have waited for everyone else before you went off alone,” he grumbles.
Even though he stays far enough away to leave a generous amount of space still between us, his presence crowds me.
“I suppose it was you that scared off my admirers?” The thought makes me happier than it probably should, but I cover my interest with another question. “Did my brother send you after me?”
Tyler shakes his head with a brief grunt and moves closer, still leaving lots of breathing room between us. He wants to keep a safe space between him and the obsessed fan, AKA me, I’m guessing. Embarrassment coils like barbed wire in my stomach.
It isn’t a secret by any means that I’ve spent the past couple of years crushing on one of my brother’s best friends, but the more Tyler treats me like a kid with a case of chicken pox that he doesn’t want to catch, the more I wish it was.
“I’m not going to maul you in front of the entire resort. It was just a silly schoolgirl crush. Get over it. I am.”
I’m being immature, but it doesn’t embarrass me as much as feeling like a groupie does.
That stupid bushy eyebrow of his lifts again, and I get the urge to lunge forward and slap it back down. Tyler places a palm on the edge of the pool and leans his weight against it, drawing my eyes to his biceps as they bulge and strain from the effort. My mouth feels dry, the moisture disappearing as my tongue pokes the inside of my cheek.
Humour lights up his stare, and he smirks, knowing full well that he’s succeeded in proving his point.
I am still very much into Tyler Bateman. And I’m a bold-faced liar if I say otherwise.
I watch the water ripple as he takes two steps toward me, close enough now that I can see the usual barely there hair on his jaw is missing.
“It’s cute, Gray. But it can’t ever happen. You know that.”
He’s only half-right. I know that he believes it can’t happen, but I don’t. While I may be young, I’m not naïve nor blind to the way he’s started to watch me when he thinks I’m not looking.
As if to prove my own point, I fiddle with the strap of my bikini top and swipe my tongue across my bottom lip. My blood begins to sizzle beneath my skin when his stare grows heated and falls on my mouth and then to my collarbone, where I have my strap pulled tight between two fingers, before drifting to the swell of my breasts.
“No, Ty. I don’t,” I say, suddenly breathless when I see the hand that was once pressed flat to the pool deck curl into a fist. “But if it will make you happy, I’ll let you keep living in denial a little while longer.”
A deep rumble grows in his chest when I close the space between us and lean up on my tiptoes, grazing my mouth across his jaw. His breath hitches when my hot breath hits his skin, and I whisper, “I’ll save you a seat at dinner.”
And with that, I’m backing away and walking out of the pool, a set of coffee-brown eyes burning holes into my back.
* * *
