“Trust me, there is nothing happy about it,” I shoot back.
There is always a hit-and-strike-back quality to our conversations. It’s strangely sexual.
I try to keep my gaze focused on his face, but I’m unbearably aware that the only piece of clothing covering him are brightly patterned board shorts that sit low on his waist. The heat of his nearly naked body hits me in heavy, intoxicating waves. My body instantlyresponds to his maleness despite my dislike for him. As much as I hate for him to feel like he’s gotten the best of me, I need to retreat and regroup.
When he doesn’t budge, I move around him.
I blow out a sigh of relief as I take two steps away. Somehow, I’ve managed to hold onto my temper and nip this conversation in the bud before it could spiral out of control. I’m proud of myself for that.
“That suit you’re wearing seems?—”
At the sound of his voice, I whip around to face him. “My suit seemswhat?”
“It seems a little too…” He pauses as his eyes coast over me again. “Little.”
Acting on instinct, I close the distance separating us. My face is scant inches from his when I come to a stop.
“How dare you!” My first impulse is to cover my body with my hands, but I resist the urge and keep them firmly at my sides because I refuse to let him see that he’s made me uncomfortable. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with my bikini. It’s perfectly sized.”
His eyes linger on my breasts.
I need to walk away before I do him bodily harm.
Would anyone notice if I drown him in the pool?
Only the groupies who have been hanging on him all afternoon.
“Maybe you should consider covering up.” He jerks his head toward a bunch of guys in the water who are batting a beach ball back and forth over a net. “They’re all checking you out.”
I glance in their direction with narrowed eyes and give Carter another glower. “The only one checking me out,” I stab a finger into his pec, “isyou!”
He snorts. As if he hasn’t wounded my pride enough, he finishes the job with, “You’re the last girl I would check out.”
I gasp. My palm itches to connect with his smug face. If I had anything left in my glass, I’d throw it at him. I suck in a calming breath and slowly release it back out into the world. But I’m still pissed.
“Well, thank you very much for clarifying that for me,” I bite out, turning away with what’s left of my dignity.
If I don’t get away from him, I’m either going to explode all over his dumb ass or burst into tears. And I don’t want to do either of those things. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he has the power to wound me.
It takes every bit of my inner strength to keep my head up as I walk away.
But that’s exactly what I do.
Fuck Carter Prescott.
And his asinine comments.
5
CARTER
Well, that conversation didn’t go as planned. I’m not sure how it went sideways so quickly. Honestly, all I’d meant to do was encourage Daisy to cover up that delectable little body of hers. Instead, all I’ve managed to do is piss her off. And now, just to spite me, she’s walking around in a tiny bikini that barely covers her tits.
It’s aggravating as shit.
I drag a hand over my face, and it comes away with beaded sweat. It’s hot as balls out here. What I need is another dip in the pool. But that would be ill-advised considering I’m rocking some major wood.
My eyes narrow on the girl responsible for my current condition.
