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Ames glanced between the two of us; more specifically, the size difference. Even though Ames was only a couple inches taller than me, I had none of her curves, which meant her clothes were usually too big for me. Bex’s clothes would drown me, whereas Ames’s would be more like a heavy dunking. Ames raised her eyebrows in question, eyes not wavering from Bex as they communicated silently for a few moments.
“She’ll wear my clothes,” Bex repeated, stepping a little further in front of my body as if I planned to make a run for Ames and steal the clothes off her body.
Ames flung up her hands in exasperation, gritting out, “Fine. Walk around naked for all I fucking care.”
“That’s an option?”
Bex ignored my joke, grabbing me by the wrist to drag me across the yard as Alex and Dev followed Ames back into the house. I wasn’t sure what had gone down between the sisters, with Ames clearly reading something in Bex’s eyes that I couldn’t. But I knew I didn’t love the tension, especially when I was somehow in the middle of it.
A string of solar-powered lights lit our way to the pool house, an addition Alex had added so Ames could walk back and forth from her studio in the dark without needing a flashlight. A pathway had been added along with the pool, meaning a trail of water droplets followed along behind me, little drips darkening the pavers as we walked.
Even when I failed to struggle against her, Bex kept a tight grip on my wrist, only letting go once we walked through the front door of the pool house, through Ames’s studio, and down the short hallway to Bex’s bedroom.
Once she turned around to face me, Bex glared as if it were my fault I now stood in her space. After a moment, she turned her back, digging deep into the dresser pressed against the wall. She threw a bundle of clothes on the bed beside me before turning back, presumably to replace her own clothes.
I considered staying in my soaked clothes solely for the pleasure of spiting her but I was already on the verge of shivering as the water began to dry on my skin, so instead I took the opportunity to drag the wet material from my body. Each item fell to the floor with an audible plop, the sound pleasing me as I imagined Bex having to clean up the puddle later tonight. Or if I were lucky, maybe she’d slip and fall.
Bex turned back around when I was down to my bralette and underwear, her clothes in my hand as I went to put them on. I expected a sarcastic quip at the lavender matching set, the soft lace not matching my costume for the night. Instead, the heat in her gaze froze me in place, my arms hanging limply by my sides as her eyes traveled up my body.
She took a few steps closer, eyes finally meeting mine as I tried to keep my racing heart from beating out of my chest. She had the same look in her eyes she did the night she licked my tears, a darkly pleased one that screamed that she wanted to destroy me and devour me, all in one go. I gave up trying to reconcile the Bex that pushed me in the pool and this one, standing in front of me now, looking like she planned to act on every desire in her mind. Like the desires in her mind matched those in my own.
Her fingertips grazed the bare skin at my hip, tracing the edge of my underwear and leaving goosebumps in their wake. The other hand tugged on one braid, then the other, like we were kids in the schoolyard with a crush.They’re mean because they like you. The classic message reiterated by teachers and parents across the ages popped into my mind, and I had to stifle a laugh at the thought.
I licked my lips reflexively, the motion shaking Bex out of whatever daze she’d been in. I watched as the desire in her eyes cooled to disinterest, lips turning down in annoyance.
“Get changed,” she ordered, shoulder bumping against mine - or rather, her bicep bumping into my shoulder, considering she was an Amazon and I was a hobbit - as she took her change of clothes into the hallway bathroom.
Even though I knew I only had a few moments to change, I took a second to take a deep breath, replaying the interaction between the two of us. Despite her claims to hate me and want me gone, Bex couldn’t help herself from getting close to me. Licking my tears, wrapping her fist in my shirt, acting strangely jealous over a stranger’s business card, checking out my almost-naked body with something like desire. Did she want me to wear her clothes in some twisted sense of ownership? Or to exert her control over me further after forcing me to change out of an outfit she didn’t like?
I could’ve run my mind in circles over this woman, but instead I peeled my wet underwear and bra off my body, pulling on the leggings and long-sleeved t-shirt Bex had given me.
The leggings fit surprisingly well thanks to the stretchy material, though what likely hit Bex mid-shin reached down to my ankle with ease. The t-shirt hung slightly off my shoulder, the hem hanging just below my ass and the sleeves reaching my fingertips. It fit like a cozy, oversized sleep shirt, and I hated how much I liked the way Bex’s clothes felt against my skin.
In the back of my mind, I wondered how Bex would react to me wearing her clothes after insisting so firmly upon it. Only I never found out, because Bex didn’t look at me the rest of the night.
Chapter5
Bex
I satat the large island spanning the kitchen, watching as Ames finished fixing her hair. The mirror hanging on the wall of the living room was new, yet another of Ames’s additions since she had moved into the house. It had been sparsely furnished when she first took refuge here, a purposeful choice by her fiancé. He tricked her into making dishware for the house, then buying a few necessities. Now the house had an explosion of personality that it lacked that first night I busted in to confront the man who’d been threatening to release the evidence proving my guilt in my ex’s illegal hacking activities.
Dozens of plants hung from the ceiling and sat on the shelves in the sunroom. The built-in bookshelves in the sitting room were slowly being filled, both with books and decorative ceramics Ames liked to experiment with between orders. I glanced into the living room, where Alex and Wren sat on the gray, L-shaped couch that ran along the back wall. A throw hung over the back of the couch, new lamps casting the room in warm light. Dev stood behind me at the kitchen sink, washing the last of the dishes and making use of the drying rack Ames bought her first day living here, the story of her returning home with home decor and a pair of cats a popular one. It was a familiar sight; yet another family dinner on the books.
Ames continued fussing at her reflection, and after a moment of watching I realized what the problem was. I knew the look in her eyes, as familiar with her face as I was with my own.
“You want a new piercing?” I asked tentatively, hoping to bridge the small gap that had formed between us over the past couple of weeks. Despite acting unbothered, I knew Ames was unhappy with my actions toward Wren, her disappointed looks unbearable after everything we’d been through together.
It had only gotten worse since Wren’s dip in the pool a few nights ago. Ames’s looks had morphed from disappointed to intrigued as if she’d started to dig deeper into my actions, and I worried she was close to figuring out my plans to expel her best friend from their little group. I was doing her a favor, and I hoped she’d see that one day, but for now, I could offer my sister a familiar service in the hopes it would delay her suspicions just a little longer. Long enough for Wren to go screaming into the night.
“Maybe,” Ames hummed, glancing in the mirror at her ears as she tipped her head back and forth, as if weighing which ear felt lighter than the other, “I was thinking of a conch?”
“I could do that,” I answered easily from across the room, everyone save for Alex turning to look at me with raised brows. He was likely the only one who’d delved into my history enough to know every single skill I had picked up since graduating high school.
It was too easy to forget that Ames’s little group had only known her for a few months. That it was no longer just the two of us, but for once I didn’t mind explaining.
“One of my teachers-”
“Exes,” Ames corrected with a laugh, quickly explaining the term I called a majority of my past partners. It was a joke between Ames and me, referring to the constant lessons my partners had taught me, whether it be a new skill (like piercing) or something to avoid in the future (like getting involved with a member of a domestic terrorist organization).
