It's almost unfair. Last night was the first time that I allowed myself to make a few bad decisions. I'm not going to be destroyed by anyone. I'm not a delicate little flower. I'm a frickin' ballerina—I'm always working on swollen toes, bruised knees, and cramping muscles. I'm a machine. I'm a model of self-control.
I grin at Flick and nod adamantly. "Yep. I'll come for a swim." I massage my quadriceps. "It'll be good for my muscles. I'm just gonna run to the house and grab my bathers."
I dart across the patio, taking very little notice of Max on my way. Well, except for a few minor details, like he'swearing a casual white tee-shirt with short sleeves and navy boardshorts that display every wave of muscle on his arms and legs. The definition of some of those bad boys can only be achieved by a rugby player or someone who does CrossFit every day. His biceps and forearms even seem to have somehow grown since last night too... Or maybe they just appear that way because they're now folded across his chest. But his eyes are definitely bluer in the daylight.
He turns his head slightly as I rush past and I inhale deeply, fighting the blush threatening to creep up my cheeks.
By the time I stroll back to the pool in my pink one-piece bathing suit, my nerves are replaced by annoyance.
Five-minutes-ago-Cassidy has some explaining to do.
What was she thinking, choosing the suit that sits high on my hips, riding up each bum cheek? She's a little tart.
But thankfully, as I unlatch the pool gate and walk in, my emotions once again shift. I'm just in time to see Max remove his shirt by pulling the back of his collar up and over his head with one arm.
Oh my gawd.
I glance away and take a big breath, wishing that I wasn't so into him. That it wasn't so obvious. That I wasn't an asexual pigeon. Kicking my flip-flops off, I drop my towel on the chair. He's diving into the pool and it's then that I notice the other brother. I've never seen him before, but I know that he's Max's brother because they look so alike. It's hard to tell with them both submerged, but I think he's taller, maybe less built.
"Who is this then?" The other brother smiles at me as he swims a little closer. "I don’t think we have met."
Flick throws a pool noodle at Stacey, who catches it, straddles it, and jumps into the water. "That's my sister, Cassidy," Flick says.
He lifts himself out of the pool just enough to offer me his hand. "Nice to meet you, sister Cassidy. I'm Bronson."Andhe's as annoyingly gorgeous as his brother, with clear, opal-blue eyes and a soft, infectious grin. He even has that signature Butcher dimple on his left cheek. The only ugly thing about him—and I'm not even sure if it's ugly or just tacky—is a terrible chopper-style moustache. I hope he wears it ironically. I shake his hand and within a second, I'm pulled from the step and into the water. A yelp escapes me as I'm submerged. Within another second, I'm surfacing again.
My grin is huge as Bronson playfully pushes my wet strawberry-blonde hair away from my face. "You okay, sister Cassidy? Sorry, couldn't help myself."
"Bronson ya dickhead," Xander groans from across the pool. "You don’t even know her."
"Bronson!" I hear Flick growl.
I cough a little and then laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine." I wade backwards, purposefully splashing him as I kick over to the corner. It's somewhat refreshing to not be coddled.
My hair is all over the place, so I dip my head back and smooth it down my crown. By the time I wipe water from my eyes, Xander is jumping into the pool, and Flick is splashing Stacey. Water goes everywhere as they chat and mock each other.
I stay in my own corner, a little overwhelmed by the three boys. I kick hard to stay afloat and watch everything unfold.
My gaze is suddenly snagged on blue-grey eyes just as they lock on me. And my chest is rising and falling faster to keep up with my quickening breaths. Max is swimming towards me now and I'm wading backwards, all the way backwards until I'm hitting the fibreglass boundary.Frick.
He grins. "Do Iknow you?"
I giggle nervously. "Funny." While I work to keep afloat, he stands with his shoulders above the surface. "Oh my God, how tall are you?" I almost moan.
"Six four." He studies my body as it moves underwater. "Want to wrap your legs around me, birthday girl?"
I burst out laughing and cup my face, nearly dunking myself in the process. "No."
"Come here." Chuckling, he reaches for me. He pulls my legs around his waist and my arms onto his shoulders, and although our torsos aren’t touching as water flows between us, his face is only inches from mine. And instantly I'm not smiling anymore. I'm lost in the dark grey outline of his irises, and I'm sure he can identify the exact hue of every one of my freckles.
"Hands off my sister, Max!"
"Mind your own hands," he yells over to Flick, but doesn't turn his head. "Mine are wherever I want them to be."
Flick splashes us. "Just scream if you need me, Cassidy."
Electricity crackles between us. I'm not naive enough to say it's surreal or unexplainable; it's just sexual energy, I know that, but it's intense. His eyelashes have beads of water on them, and his hands are wrapped around my waist, and come to think of it, they are big. He has really big hands. My lips part and his eyes drop to watch me breathe. I want more than anything to just get it over with and press my mouth to his, exploring this feeling, but I don't think that's what girls do in a situation like this. I'm sure they seduce or act coy or say something clever like...
"You have big hands."
