CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“What happened last night?” Audrey asks as we lounge by the pool.
“I thought Lenny would be nice, and he started out that way. The conversation didn’t end that way, though. He’s still a dick. How can he and Jack be the same guy?” I wonder aloud.
“Everyone’s different in private.”
I think back to the uncharacteristic softness she has with Brent. He sees that. She reserves that for only him.
I think maybe I reserve my softness for the intimate moments, too. I want to tell her that Ellen was weirdly nice, but I don’t want to upset her. I don’t know what game Ella’s playing, but my defenses are up.
“Where’s Isla today?” I ask.
“Tennis practice with her private coach.”
“Is he hot?” I ask.
She smirks. “No.”
“Bummer.”
“Right?”
I’m overheating in this sun.
“I’m going to swim some laps.”
“I’ll be baking here when you reemerge.”
She knows when I swim, I swim for a long time. I adjust my bikini and dive in the deep end, swimming under the water for more than half the length of the pool before resurfacing to do the breast stroke. I love this. It makes me think of frog legs… the way I kick, not to eat.
I lose track of time and laps as I just let my mind go blank. I don’t stop until my muscles are screaming in protest. When I pull myself up to look over at Audrey, she’s still in the same place she was when I started, only Elan is next to her.
“What’s up, Foxy J?”
I laugh and pull myself out of the pool then squeeze as much water out of my hair as I can. He tosses me a towel.
“You were in there a long damn time. I thought I was going to have to set up camping gear out here,” Elan teases.
“She’s always like that,” Audrey explains. “She’s like a fish.”
“I’m telling you, Foxy, you should be on swim team.”
“Hottie E, that would ruin it all for me. When I’m in there, my mind goes blank. If I were competing, I’d be constantly thinking about whether or not I was getting my ass kicked,” I inform him.
“I can see that,” he agrees.
“Did you get in trouble for falling asleep here?” I ask, remembering the warmth of his embrace, the comfort and security of it.
“Nah. My parents were asleep, and they trust me. Besides, I texted them that we were coming to your house to watch movies, so they knew where I was.”
I pat his head. “You’re such a good boy.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me on top of him on the chair, lying back so I completely collapse, laughing.
“Now look what you’ve done. You got me all wet,” he complains.
“I do believe you’re the one who pulled me on top of you,” I retort, standing up to dry off with the towel.
