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Aftera few more minutes of peacefulness,I’mready to rejoin the guys.It’sonly now thatIhear a third voice from behind me.WhenIturn, there’s a stunning woman standing on the side of the pool in a tiny white bikini.Shehas long, shimmery blond hair, smooth, tanned skin covering her toned-to-perfection body, and endless legs.
BeauandDevonare looking up at her, both of them with their arms crossed, resting on the edge the same wayIwas just doing.Mystomach twists.
I’mnot sure what this unsettled feeling is.Itcan’t be jealousy.WhyshouldIcare that my friends are talking to a woman who has to be a model based on the way she looks?
Determinedto go back to admiring the view until they’re done talking,Ifocus on the ocean again.ButI’mno longer relaxed.
Withmy gaze fixed on the horizon,Ibreathe out a small sigh.Imight not be jealous, butI’mdefinitely envious.Whatmust it be like to be that beautiful?
Withthat thought, a memory slithers through my head.
Faceit,Shae.There’snothing special about you.
Mythroat tightens, andIrest my forehead on my arms, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.Phillipwas a manipulative, narcissistic asshole, andIlet him treat me like crap for far too long.Ipromised myself whenIleft him thatIwouldn’t let anyone hurt me like that again.ThatIwouldn’t lethimkeep hurting me by holding on to his ugly words.
I’vefound it’s easier said than done.
Focusingon the fresh air and the warmth of the sunbaked tiles on my arms,Iforce the memory of my ex-boyfriend from my head.
He’snot in my life anymore.I’vemoved on.Imight not be as beautiful as the woman on the other side of the pool, but my life is filled with people who love me:Dad,Devon,Beau.That’sthe important thing.NothowIlook in a bikini.
Gradually, my racing pulse slows, and my muscles unknot.Thesound of wading from behind me has me looking over my shoulder.
Sunlightcatches on the droplets trickling downDevon’sbare chest as he comes toward me, andIcan’t help the slightly ragged breath that slips free from my lips.Iturn to face him.
Hedoesn’t stop until he’s so closeIhave to tip my head back to keep my eyes fixed on his.Ipush aside my upset from a few minutes ago and smile up at him. “Letme guess, that’sIsabelle.”
“Yeah.”Hemoves so he’s leaning against the wall the wayIam, then looks over at where the woman—Isabelle—is now reclining on one of the loungers.She’sstill talking toBeau, who’s holding on to the edge of the pool a few feet away from her.
“Ican see why she convinced you to get the apartment.”Imean for it to come out playfully, but there’s a strange tension in my voice that evenIcan hear.
Devonshakes his head. “ThatwasBeau, not me.Naturallight, remember.”
“That’sright.”Ismile, then let out a small, envious sigh. “She’sgorgeous.I’msurprised you’re not still over there talking to her.”
Devonsquints. “Nah.Beenthere, done that.”
Ishoot him a shocked look. “You’veslept with her already?”Ifocus back on her andBeau, who’s subtly flexing his biceps a little more than necessary. “DoesBeauknow?”
Ahalf smile twistsDevon’smouth. “NotIsabelle.Modelsin general.IfI’dslept with her,Beauwouldn’t be trying so hard.We’renot big on going after the same woman.”
Myattention drifts back to him. “So, what, you compete to see who gets her first, and then that’s it?”
“It’snot like that.Butif we’re interested in the same woman, then we’ll both try our luck.Whoevergets her, gets her, and the other one walks away.We’renot going to ruin our friendship over a woman.Notwhen there are so many others out there.”
Iroll my eyes. “Mustbe nice having a smorgasbord to choose from.”
Icringe at my tone again.WhyamIbeing so snippy?He’smy friend, and he’s a gorgeous, talented rock star.Whywouldn’t he have women throwing themselves at him?Iturn quickly and wrap my arms around him, pressing my forehead to his broad chest. “Sorry,”Imumble. “I’mjust being bitchy becauseIwishIlooked like that.”
“Hey,” he says, gripping my chin and tipping my face up.Hisgaze sweeps over me. “You’regorgeous,Shae.Andbelieve me, being with models gets old after a while.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “Notbecause models are dumb or shallow, like the stereotype.Buttheir lives revolve around looking perfect.That’stheir job, so that’s the way it has to be.Butbeing with model after model means that’s all you end up focusing on too—looking perfect, being perfect.It’sa bit much after a while.”
Whenhe stops talking,Isuddenly become aware that our bodies are only an inch apart, and he’s still holding my chin, his fingers warm against my skin.Devon’sgaze flickers to my lips, and it’s like a burst of static electricity crackles through me.Heatflares, and my nipples bead under my bikini top.Thenhe’s letting me go, andI’mstepping back.Whatis the matter with me?Devonwasn’t thinking about kissing me.Hewas just looking at me the way he’d look at anyone he was standing so close to.
Iput a little more space between us. “I’mpretty hungry.Areyou ready for lunch?”
