“Is she how you thought she’d be?” I ask.
He nods. “We talked a couple times before this. Not in depth or anything, but yeah. She’s really sweet.”
“I knew she would be. I could tell just by looking at her. Thank god she’s nothing like Ella.”
“Speaking of, what was her problem?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything but cheering for the team with Audrey and Isla. Apparently, I’m not allowed to do that, either.” I roll my eyes. “She’s got serious issues.”
“She said something nasty to you. Someone heard and mentioned it.”
I look at him and snicker. “Which part, really? First, it was about you and Gianna. Then, it was about how I don’t belong here.”
He stares at me in that way he does, looking for something—truth.
“You believe her. Damn it, Jillian, don’t you let her do that to you. Youdobelong here. So much more than she ever will and that’s what’s pissing her off. I won’t let you believe her. I’ll tell Audrey and Isla. Then you’re in big trouble,” he taunts.
“I don’t really believe her, but life was a whole lot easier back on the farm.”
“Was it, really? Think back to your asshole ex. Was that easy?” he reminds me.
“No, it wasn’t. But Ella’s a whole other thing. Ella’s a walking, talking nightmare that just won’t go away,” I admit. “She stresses me out.”
“You need to swim,” he tells me.
“I do. I usually wait until the sun’s up so it’s not cold, Mr. Buttcrack-of-dawn.”
Elan laughs. “I know, but my parents have a lot planned for today and I wanted to see you.”
“To make sure I’m okay.”
He nods.
“Elan, I won’t lie to you. I’m okay. Was I jealous at first? Yes. It’s only natural since I never had to share your time before,” I admit.
“Okay. I’ll believe you. I’ll trust you to tell me the truth.”
“I promise.”
“I promise, too. I’ll text you later.”
We hug briefly, then go our separate ways.
I’m nearly to the stairs when I hear pounding footsteps behind me. I turn and there’s Leo—shirtless Leo. Oh boy.
“Jillie,” he says by way of greeting.
“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be icing something after last night instead of out here running?” I mean, he has to hurt like nobody’s business.
He chuckles. “If I don’t get up and move, I get tight. Not a good thing.”
My eyes are wide when I look down a bit and see the bruises on his arms and along his ribs. “So, you get up at dawn to torture yourself further? Do your parents know about your masochistic tendencies? I think maybe you need to talk to a professional.”
Now he laughs, and when he does, he’s Jack. The carefree guy I met.
“They don’t only know, they encourage it.”
“Sadists,” I tease.
