“But”—Beverly holds up a finger to cap Kennedy’s reaction—“until you make it legal with Warren, I’d be weary of rocking the boat. Your father’s heart—hislifeis on the line. He wants this for you as much as I do. We only want the best for you, Reese.” Beverly picks up her tennis racket and marches out the door.
“Do you believe that?” I ask as Kennedy and I stare vacantly at the entry. “Do you think they only want the best for me?”
“I’d like to think so,” she pants, still shell shocked from the familial blow Beverly dealt. “But, knowing my mother, I seriously doubt it.” She sweeps her fingers through my damp hair. “Do you want what’s best for you?”
I startle back to life.
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“The truthful kind. Do you want Warren in any way, shape, or form? And, if not, why the hell are you keeping Ace from everybody like some big bad secret? Get in or get out, Reese. But you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”
Kennedy heads off toward the kitchen and leaves me swirling in the wake of her words.
I don’t want Warren.
And I do want Ace.
I love Ace. But how does love fit in a perfectly platonic relationship? In the world of corporate greed my father built?
It doesn’t.
Late in the afternoon I go for a walk along the shoreline and watch as Warren and Ace glide across the water, easy and lithe as garden snakes skimming the surface.
Brylee has planted herself on a bright pink towel down by the shore that actually hurts to look at, so I flip on my sunglasses and plop down next to her.
“Well look who finally crawled out of her love shack?” She shades her eyes with her hand as she takes me in. “You look thinner—happier.”
“I am happier and it has nothing to do with the shape of my body.”
“So how was it?” She spins into me and hugs her knees. “Is he worth his weight in the bedroom, or, should I say, the red tent of love?”
“He’s amazing. He left me breathless.” I shake my head a moment as all those heated memories sear past me like an erotic tornado. I’m afraid I’ll get too caught up in the memory and beg him to take me right here on the sand. “We’re still friends.” I shrug, looking out at him as he narrowly holds his own over Warren in what’s panning out to be the race of the century. “I was thinking about talking to him. You know, to see if he was interested in anything more.”
“Yes!” Her face brightens ten shades of pink. “Oh my God!” Brylee practically howls it across the lake. “Please, talk to him. You guys are so perfect for each other. He’s sweet and so are you. Not to mention the fact you’ve already shared something so intimate and special.”
“I know, but”—I shake out my hair and let the wind sweep it behind me—“he was pretty clear about us just staying friends. If I lower the boom, he might think I was trying to trap him into a relationship all along, or worse, he’ll think I’m some kind of stalker who cleverly found a way to bed her victim. Of course, both theories are true, but I’d only admit it to you.” I kick her gently in the shin. “Besides, if I leave things alone, we’ll still be friends. I’ll still have Ace in my life and some semblance of normalcy.”
“Is that what you want?” She pierces me with those sky blue eyes. “You want things to go back to the way they were?”
Warren and Ace crop up in my peripheral vision as if they were campaigning for my attention all along.
“Being with Warren would make my father and Beverly happy,” I start. “But, I would rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty pocket knife than leash myself to him for the rest of my days. And, being with Ace would be a longtime dream fulfilling itself. It would be living out my heart’s desire in real time. It would be incredible if he wanted that, too.”
“Well”—she nudges me with her knee—“what kind of vibes does he give you? Do you think he’s feeling it?”
“I don’t know. One minute I think he does and the next he’s affirming our friendship status. It’s like we’re both walking the line, trying not to ruin our friendship, only maybe he really does want to stay friends.”
Brylee shakes her head, incensed. “I thought for sure when you guys finally did it you’d wind up on the same page. Who sleeps with someone they’re in love with and doesn’t bother to say those three little words?” She rages as she looks over her shoulder at Ace.
“I thought the same thing,” I whisper. “I’m the worst kind of coward.”
“Yeah, well”—she makes a face as Ace and Warren speed over—“you may not be the only coward I know.”
Boy, wouldn’t that be nice.
Warren cuts Ace off and knocks his canoe over as he glides up in front of us. I watch as Ace rights himself and paddles forward with the water beading off his smile.
“What the fuck?” Warren pants his way over as he falls into the sand next to me.
