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I let out a wheeze of laughter, nearly dropping my cup from my hands. A Hollister. Man, it’s been a minute since I’ve thought about that.
“Hollister?” Seer asks as she steps out of the pool, letting water drip from her black bikini - her tattoos swirl up one of her arms and continue down that same leg.
I make a mental note to ask her later who did them. They’re gorgeous. I’m a tattoo loyalist, and have been seeing the same artist since my first tattoo in college, but I like having a Rolodex of recommendations.
Carla steps in next to Seer, letting her hair down and leaning back to dip her head in the water.
“You know,Hollister,” Vic says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Couldn’t find a g-spot with a gas mask and a flashlight.” Frannie makes another gagging noise, and I’m half tempted to apologize - picturing Penny and Brett makes me want to vomit, too. But Seer makes her way toward the lounger she was using, picking up her own red drink and holding it up in a toast.
“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“That’s what we need,” Fitz says from behind me, and when I turn, he’s closing the door behind him, another pitcher of margaritas in hand, and he’s wearing a pair of gray swim trunks…with no shirt. “You all teaming up to give me more shit.” He gestures between Seer, Frannie, and Alex, narrowing his eyes.
Alex lets out a wolf whistle, and I throw a chip at her. He’s probably already dying of embarrassment - he’s been so quick to cover up any time we’ve been naked together, and I doubt being shirtless in front of everyone is at the top of his to-do list. Not shy, not even self conscious. Just too much of himself on display for his internalized anxiety.
God, even his shoes and swim trunks are pretentious and new looking, though, like he didn’t own a pair of well worn…anything.
He sets the pitcher down on the table between Frannie and Alex, and then moves to pick up the pool net by the end of the long handle.
“You can’t say you don’t deserve it,” Alex replies, holding up her now full glass at him. He shakes his head, and I stand, crossing the warm pavement until I’m a few inches from him.
“You know she’s teasing, right?” I ask in a low voice. He nods, winking, and I give his shoulder a squeeze before walking toward the pool steps where Carla is. When I look over my shoulder, he’s staring at my backside, and I pop my hip out for good measure.
“Get a fucking room with that shit,” Alex cries, sharing a look with Frannie as I wade into the pool, trying to keep my neck above the water.
“Like you and Nolan weren’t ten levels of disgusting swapping tonsils back in the day.” Vic, to the rescue. Fitz and I meet each other’s eyes as he walks up to the side of the pool, his flip flops hitting the pavement as he scoops away a few leaves near the edge he’s standing at. We were most definitely playing tonsil hockey approximately half an hour before everyone got here this morning.
Seer settles in the chair I vacated, reapplying more sunscreen. “Not to rotate a full 180,” she says, rubbing lotion into her tattooed shoulder, “but how’s the job hunt going?”
The question is enough to pull my gaze away from Fitz’s arms, which are difficult to not look at when they’re deftly moving that long stick attached to the pool net.
“Job hunt?” I ask, looking around to see who she’s talking to - but then I realize it’s me. Fitz makes a throat cutting gesture at her, which he attempts to stop when I turn back to glare.
“Job hunt?” Carla and Vic echo, and his eyebrows knit together.
See, this is why I haven’t said anything - because as much as Brianna has made me miserable, Vic seems to be thriving at AllHearts. For a boy who grew up wanting to be in the world of fashion, a clothing department at a company like AllHearts is arguably one of the closest places to get that without moving to a coast with a fashion hub. I lean against the pool wall next to where Fitz is clearing leaves, waiting for Vic’s response.
But then, his shoulders sink, and he settles into the chair like he’s taking a breath for the first time in ages.
“Thank fuck, because we both need to get the hell out of there.”
I feel myself sag in relief - it’s not just me, then. Seer sips on the cup she filled with her mocktail mixture, looking at Frannie, and then me.
“This one made it sound like you’d made some pretty good suggestions on that, what was it, Fran? An email campaign?” Frannie nods at Seer's words, leaning forward in the lounger, wrapping her arms around her long legs. Her teal swimsuit is more modest than Seer’s, with lace cutouts around the top.
“Really good, Piper. Like, things my team didn’t even think of.” I feel my face flush and tilt my head back, catching Fitz’s eyes while he smirks at me. Then, Frannie continues, “We’re hiring in the marketing department, if you want to get the hell out of Dodge and need somewhere to land.”
He planned this.
Or, well, expected it. For me to get asked about trying to find a new job, and then poise his sister to try to snag me. And the fact that his smirk is now a full smile down at me confirms as much.
Without much thought, I reach for the net and give it a tug, and with a curse and a splash Fitz falls into his own pool. I just cross my arms as he comes up for air, running a hand up his face and pushing his hair away from his forehead.
“What was that for?”
“Does she need a reason?” Carla asks with a blase tone from her spot on the other side of the pool.
He wades toward me, and braces one hand on either side of my shoulders.
