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Mychest constricts.HowdidIget myself into this situation withDevon?Thefirst time was a drunken mistake; we both agreed on that.Butwhat was our excuse for the second time?Andwhat about what he said to me at the premiere the other night?
Isigh and gather more paint on my brush, blue this time, the same shade of deep ocean blue asDevon’seyes.Witha light touch,Idab it onto the canvas, then add a swirl of ultramarine over the top to make it less obviously like him.Witha smaller dagger brush,Iadd finer facial features, once again, forcing myself to deviate from the picture in my mind.
Steppingback,Itake in the full image.Evenwith all my efforts, his face still looks back at me, his eyes full of warmth and life, a hint of his too-charming smile.Ratherthan helping me sort through my feelings, the painting only confuses me more.
Givingup,Icarry the canvas and easel back into my room, making sure it faces the wall.Ifthey happen to get a peek at it,Idoubt eitherBeauorDevonwill see anything more than shadows and shapes, butI’drather make sure they don’t see it at all.
Topass the time,Ispend another hour working on the guys’ social media, responding to new tagged posts.ThenIlog off and change into my swimsuit.
Twentyminutes later, whileI’mfloating lazily on my back, looking up at the blue sky and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face,Ihear their voices.
Iturn my head and see them walking in my direction.Myheart stutters whenIrecognize the woman with them—Isabelle.Herarms are hooked through both of theirs, and she’s laughing as they approach.Devon’seyes meet mine and then slide away again.
Thesight of him with the stunning model sends nausea swirling in my stomach, butItry my best to give a friendly smile.
“Lookwho we ran into,”Beausays.
Ireturn the waveIsabellegives me, even thoughIsuddenly want to be anywhere but here.Thethree of them drop their towels on adjacent loungers, then slide into the water.OrinBeau’scase, cannon ball.
Iwipe the water from my face, scowling at him in mock annoyance.
“What?You’realready wet, aren’t you?”
DevonandIsabelleare standing in the shallow end talking, her hand on his arm and a smile on her beautiful face.
Iswallow hard and look away.Ihate this.Ihateit.
Suddenly,IwishIhadn’t come toLAat all.OrthatDevonhad never taken me home early from the club.Iwant all this—these messy feelings—to go away.Togo back to the way we were, whenIwould have rolled my eyes at seeing him with a woman likeIsabelle.BecauseI’dburied my one-sided feelings a long time ago and accepted that friends was all we would ever be.Ithad been enough for me.
Butnow those feelings have been dug up and ruthlessly exposed.Nowjust looking at him makes my body thrum with awareness and my lips itch to taste his.Andthere’s this… this awful jealousy that rears to the surface every timeIsee him with another woman.
Iwas so pathetically grateful at the video shoot when he swapped withBeau.Ithad ignited a tiny flicker of hope in my chest that it meant something.Butit hadn’t taken long before that little spark had been blown out again.Particularlyafter the premiere when he’d told me again that nothing could happen with us.Andwatching him withIsabellenow only solidifies my determination.Ineed to get past it and move on.
Beauwades over, his lips curved in a quizzical smile. “Iseverything all right?You’vebeen quiet.”
Ismile at him. “IguessI’vejust been feeling a bit… lost.Youknow?Unsureabout what to do with my life whenIgo home.”
Hiseyes search mine. “Youalready know whatIthink you should do.”
“Iknow.I’mjust not sure that’ll happen.”Itrail my fingers through the water between us. “ButIthinkI’mgetting used to the idea of painting just as a hobby.”
Oneof his dark brows rises. “Isthat right?”
Forall his exuberance,Isometimes forget how perceptiveBeauis.Infact, he’s a lot more sensitive than he comes across.Hisplayboy, let everything run off his back persona is just that—a persona.Asudden surge of affection for him hits me.Andif everIcould use a hug from a friend, it’s now.EspeciallyasIsabelle’slaugh rings out across the water.
Idon’t turn to look.There’snothing there for me.SoIwade closer toBeauand put my hand on his broad shoulder. “I’mhappy,Beau.I’vegot you andDevon, and that’s enough for any girl.”
JustasIhope, he reels me in for a hug.Ilay my head on his chest, letting my eyes fall shut asIsqueeze him hard.Beau’sarms are about the most comforting place in the world.Andcomfort is exactly whatIneed right now.
Westand that way for a minute or two, him rocking me gently in the water, and thenIlet out a quiet breath and release him from my death grip.
Ilook up at him and smile. “Thanks,Ineeded that.”
Hisface is serious as he studies me.Heknows there’s something wrong, but he also knows me well enough not to push.Afterpressing a kiss to my forehead, he asks, “Yougoing out with the girls this evening?”
“Yes.AndIprobably need to go and get ready.”
AsImake my way to the stairs to get out,IpassDevonandIsabelle.Ihope my expression is one of friendly unconcern.Butthe wayDevon’sgaze bores into me asIpass has my breath hitching in my chest.Idon’t know how to interpret his reaction.Isabelleis still talking to him, and his body is turned toward her, but a muscle in his jaw tics as he follows my movements.
