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My phone buzzes before I can answer the question on my mind. I step out the door into the sunlight before fetching my phone from my pocket. The sunlight hits my iPhone’s screen, and I see a text from Layla.
How did the pretrial go? Ruby wants us to go to the beach tomorrow, what do you say? Also, should I buy you trunks? I'm not sure you have one.
The phone feels slippery in my clammy palms as I stare at the text for a while. The beach—me, her, and Ruby. It may give me a chance to talk to her and try to get to know her better. Also, if Ruby wants that, I may as well do it.
My fingers fly across the screen as I reply:
Alright. It’s a date.
P.S: I look good in black.
I see the Fishers’ black Lexus pull out of the parking lot and disappear down the road with a screech. I watch till the car disappears into the distance, and then I saunter towards mine.
Despite everything, I visualize how good Layla will look in a Bikini. A reluctant smile appears on my face as I open my car door.
Chapter nineteen
Layla
Tristan was right. He looks perfect in the black trunks. He’s just emerged from the water, his shirtless form glistening in the fading light of the setting sun. My breath catches in my throat as I watch him.
One of the three women behind me sucks in a breath, and I turn to look at her. Their mat isn’t far from mine, and they’re all dark-skinned women who look alike like they are sisters. The one who sucked in her breath shrugs and returns her gaze to Tristan’s body. I realize the other women are also staring. I chuckle to myself when I catch an older lady with breathing support also checking him out from a corner of the beach.
“Look, Layla!” Ruby exclaims, her face alight with excitement as she points at her creation—a lopsided tower of sand that threatens to crumble at any moment.
I smile, a surge of affection welling up within me. “It’s beautiful, Ruby,” I shout back at her. “You’re quite the architect.”
“What’s an archifet?” She shouts back.
The ladies behind me chuckle, and I join them. Tristan leaves the water and kneels beside Ruby on the sand. They go back to making their castle as I lay on the picnic mat, a book in hand, watching them.
The golden hues of the setting sun cast a warm glow over the mostly deserted beach, a gentle lull of waves providing a soothing backdrop to the evening. Tristan didn’t say much when he got back from court, and I didn’t prod. He freshened up and packed, and we left New Brooks for , the next town over, for the beach.
I’m sure my parents didn’t go easy on him, and I try as I can; I’m beginning not to see the sense in trying to take Ruby from Tristan. My glance returns to them. Tristan lifts Ruby onto his shoulder and dances around as she laughs with careless abandon.
If one thing was clear in all the time I’ve spent with them, it’s that Tristan loves Ruby and won’t do anything to hurt her.
So why am I here?
Tristan’s laughter breaks my thoughts as I look over at them. He’s back to helping Ruby shape the sands into intricate designs, his hands deftly guiding hers with a tenderness that speaks volumes. He looks up and meets my eyes. I suddenly feel like a stranger looking in, and I return my gaze to my James Pattinson novel.
“Mm-mm.” One of the women lying on the mat behind me sighs.
When I look up, I see Tristan approaching. There’s sand on his wet chest in a tiny handprint. I sit up on the mat, dropping my book beside me.
“Ladies.” Tristan nods to the women, who all giggle like schoolgirls.
He lay beside me on the mat, his forearm covering his eyes as he put his other hand beside me, a few inches from me. I stare at his body beside me. His abs glisten with water, and a few grains of sand are on his abdomen. My gaze travels to his waistband. A small trail of hair stops just above his waistband, making promises of what’s hidden.
“You’re staring.” He says without removing his forearm from his face.
I blush, tearing my eyes away from Tristan’s figure. “Sorry,” I stammer, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I was just… lost in thought.”
Tristan chuckles, his laughter washing over me like a gentle wave. “It’s okay,” he reassures me in a low voice, then reaches his free hand out to squeeze mine.
The women behind us, sensing our need for privacy, leave their mats and head to the water. I watch one of them join Ruby in making her castle, and the other two enter the water. Their laughter fills the air as Tristan's hand holds mine in a silent gesture I quietly enjoy.
“Beautiful day,” Tristan says, removing his hand from his face. His dark eyes run over me quickly. “Almost as beautiful as you, Layla.”
