Baya walks into the room with a hot pink bikini on and, holy shit, not one stitch more. Her tits melon out, nice and round, and her legs ride up from her high heels like two creamy stems that keep on going. I’ve ben jacking off in the shower every night this week thanks to the glorious stages of undress she’s been teasing me with, but she’s just taken my hard-on to a whole new level.
“It’s freezing out.” Cole snatches the towel from her hand and wraps it around her body like he’s concealing criminal evidence. “Throw on some sweats or something. Would you?” He spins her toward the bathroom. “And a scarf and some gloves. You don’t want your fingers falling off.”
I give a little chuckle. I guess I’d feel the same way with Annie if the roles were reversed. Just the thought of Cole even looking at my sister that way gets my blood pumping. I’m starting to see his point—another good reason for me to stay the hell away from Baya Brighton.
An inferno scorches my insides at the thought.
I’m pretty sure the last thing I’m going to do voluntarily is stay away. The only thing I really want to do is be with her twenty-four seven. My heart aches because I’ve never felt that strongly about anyone before. And I can’t help but wonder if I’m hurting Steph all over again.
The lake is unseasonably warm. Holt has some girl in a G-string already seated on his lap. We exchange brief hellos as I walk down the dock. It’s not until I help Baya onto the boat that I notice there are three other girls laying out on the bow. Crap. The boat’s not that big. I was sort of hoping Holt and Cole would keep the girls to one a piece so Baya and I could team up by proxy and get a chance to talk.
We settle in and Baya does her best to fit in with the girls, but, for the most part, they seem to be ignoring the fact she’s politely peppering the conversation. It’s cool. I mean they don’t know her. So it’ll only make sense when I hang out with her. Cole can’t fault me for that.
We finally take off, and Holt settles the boat mid-lake before he starts dispensing beer bottles like they were oxygen tanks that everyone on board needed to survive. Baya passes, and I do, too. Funny how she hates the taste of liquor, and Cole seems to think it’s nectar from the gods. Baya and Cole seem to be opposite in just about every single way. It just goes to show how two people could be raised under the same roof and have a totally different outlook on things, sort of like Holt and me. It’s strange how Cole has never mentioned his father’s accident. It must have been a trauma. Speaking of traumas, Steph has eroded the inside of my brain every single day since that fateful night, and I don’t think Holt has thought of her twice since the incident. Holt had a Steph phase once, but you wouldn’t know it.
I head out to the bow, and the girls break out in a choir of catcalls. The sticky haze seeps over my skin as I shoot a quiet smile at Baya. She’s so beautiful. She makes every other girl on the boat evaporate in the fog around her. My heart thumps as I take her in.
“It’s time to get this party started!” Holt’s girlfriend for the afternoon turns up the radio full tilt as she and her friends strip down to their bathing suits—fuck—more like birthday suits.
I swallow hard—every single one of them has on a G-string.
Baya shoots me a look, and I hold out my hands a moment, trying to remove myself from the situation. If I knew a mass disrobing was about to take place I would never have come, and, for sure, I wouldn’t have brought Baya.
“Nice!” Cole slaps me on the back and pulls Taylor to the side while she eagerly works the button on his jeans.
Holt goes over and sits among the bevy of bronzed wannabe beauties and wraps his arms around two different girls.
Shit. This is turning into the love boat, and I’m betting Baya wishes she could abandon ship. I nod her over, and we sit at the wheel with Baya taking up the captain’s seat.
“So it’s a pleasure cruise.” She gives a sly smile, and I tick to life in my boxers. Baya is the hottest girl on the lake even with her Whitney Briggs sweats, her fresh scrubbed face, her cute as hell ponytail.
Cole lets out a serious groan, and Baya winces as if she were in real pain.
“Honest to God.” I hold up a hand. “If I knew, I never would have asked you.”
The smile slides off her face. Her eyes elongate in two perfect orbs.
“Please”—she shakes her head—“don’t let me stand in your way. Go on, help yourself to the buffet while I steer us into the nearest boulder.” She plucks a deck of playing cards off the dash and waves them in front of me. “Never mind. I found something to keep me busy. I’ll keep my hands off the wheel I promise.” She tries her best to shoo me away. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to babysit me.” It comes out curt, pissed as hell, as she shuffles the cards with a marked aggression.
“Hey”—I lay my hand over hers—“for the record, I wish it was just me and you on this boat.” Right now there is no greater truth. I lean in and whisper just over her ear. “I’m sorry I put you through this.”
Her jade eyes settle on mine, and I want to damn both Cole and any memory of the past to hell and kiss her right here.
“Nice try,” she whispers, laying out a row of cards in front of her. “I’ve seen the one in the red bikini blow you kissestwice. Now leave.” She nods over to the bow. “The last thing I want to do is get in the way of your tally marks.”
Baya blinks back tears, and my chest feels like it’s about to implode. Shit. In an effort to keep her heart safe, I’ve started to break it.
“What if I told you I wasn’t into tally marks anymore?” I lean in and hold her gaze.
Baya looks down at my lap like she’s fearing for the boys, then slowly rides her smoldering eyes toward mine. There’s a heat between us like I’ve never felt with anyone before, not the hundreds of girls that drifted through my bedroom, not with Steph, and I feel guilty as hell for even thinking it.
“No tally marks, huh? Switching to an electronic scoreboard?” Her lips twitch. “I bet there’s an app for that.”
“Nope.” I match her steady gaze and neither of us moves. “I think I’ll hold out for something better—someone special.”
“Someone special.” She swallows hard as her eyes expand at the idea.
I hope Baya knows she’s that someone special.
I think that’s exactly what I’m about to discover.
We play twenty-one for the next few hours. And I’m slowly starting to realize it’s Baya who’s quickly becoming the queen of my heart.
