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Her smile grows bigger as she walks to the couch and fishes a phone out of her purse, then dials and presses it to her ear.
“Oh, hi!” she chirps, her unblinking gaze on me like that of a snake. Gracefully, she lowers her ass on the couch arm and crosses one bare leg over the other like she’s posing for a magazine cover.
I wouldn’t believe she was actually talking to Archer if her phone didn’t light up, letting me know someone answered.
My stomach churns. He answered?Hercall?
“Guess who’s here?” she asks. “Yeah, she is… Not impressed, no…”
Her gaze glides up and down my figure, and I really hate the feeling of wanting to slap her around.
“See you soon. Byyyyeeee!” She hangs up and tosses the phone on the couch, then leans back on one arm. “So, can I help you, sweetie?”
I could drag her out. I could throw her in the pool. I could choke her out. But I promised Archer that I’d practice patience and wouldn’t overreact. So I do the only thing that will keep that blonde creature in one piece for now—turn around and leave.
I’m mad and need to clear my head. The first idea that comes to mind is swimming. It’s dark, but I don’t care. Nature and water are the best therapy. So is exercise.
I stomp toward the main road that goes downhill to the boardwalk, disregarding someone calling my name.
Flavor of the month.
I should’ve wrapped her blond hair around my fist and dunked her into that fancy stone toilet bowl in Archer’s bathroom.
I can’t get the bath towel out of my mind. I am jealous, no denying it. No girl would walk around a guy’s house naked if she didn’t think she had a chance with him.
I’m in the middle of something. I’ll call you back.
I reach the beach in no time and start pulling off my tank as I walk, stumbling on the sand. My shorts come off next. I hear the muffled sound of the heavy footsteps behind me but don’t care that Slate will see me in my underwear and bra.
The ocean is dark and uneasy, but I need to transfer my anger into it.
The sound of an ATV approaching with a spotlight doesn’t stop me.
“Miss! It’s too dangerous to go in,” a guard shouts.
He exchanges words with Slate, but I ignore them, walking up to the water. It’s warm, splashing wildly at my feet—the ocean is stormy.
“Miss! The rip current is too strong!” the guard shouts again.
I raise my middle finger in the air as I walk along the yellow light from the ATV on the black water and dive in, cutting the wave.
The warm wet darkness envelopes me. I reemerge and start swimming in slow powerful strokes.
I need to stop thinking. Thinking so much it spins my brain and makes me reckless at the thought of another girl at Archer’s villa. But that was the promise I gave him—being patient. So I blow off steam here, trying to focus on the water and the waves that splash into my face, but unable to think of anything but him. Alwayshim.
I don’t look back to see if the guard left. I keep swimming, mindlessly swinging my arms, cutting another wave, and gliding underwater when I feel I’m losing my breath.
I slow and still for a moment, but the water keeps carrying me.
Shit.
I turn and start swimming back toward the shore, but the tide pulls me in a different direction.
My limbs are tense with burning pain at the effort to swim.
Relax, I tell myself and lean back, trying to stay on my back above the water, letting the tide take me far away from the shore.
My heart is racing but I try to make as little movement as possible.
