He laughs. “You can’t be that bad.”
I lift a brow at him. “Iamthat bad. I’m not exaggerating.”
A flash of lime green grabs my attention and I immediately wish it hadn’t. Leo. In bright green and black swim trunks, wet from the water he just emerged from.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Broad shoulders, well-defined biceps and abs, slim waist, long muscular legs. And that face. It’s a face the angels sing songs about. He’s smiling and laughing with his friends and this is the guy I met last weekend. Has it only been a week? It feels like so much longer.
“You’ve got it bad, Foxy J,” Elan points out.
I nod. “I hate it.”
“I have no love for the guy, but there are much worse. Against the others he’s really not so bad.”
“No, not when he’s like this. But every time he’s around me lately, he’s a total dick.”
“It’s a guy thing,” Elan informs me.
“Being a dick is a ‘guy thing’?”
“For some. Not all girls like nice guys. Lots of them like the bad boy who just happens to be a total dick.”
“I’m sorry but he is so not a bad boy. He’s just a jock,” I tell him.
Elan lifts a brow. “What jock fucked you over so badly that you hate all of us?”
“Long story and one I don’t care to relive.”
“Maybe after you’ve had a few more cups of punch,” he prods.
“Maybe. I do get pretty chatty,” I admit.
“Well, then, drink up, Foxy J. I want to hear all of your secrets,” Elan tells me.
Um, yeah. That’s not going to happen.
