“Why?”
“She was very…religious.”
“Like, no sex before marriage religious?”
“Yup.”
“Who was your first, then?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me before realizing he might say my sister. I grit my teeth, fighting off certain unwelcome images.
Please, God, don’t say Mel. Anyone but Mel.
“A girl I met the first week of college,” he says, and my entire body deflates in relief. “I was just trying to get it over with at that point.”
“How romantic,” I say dryly. “Poor girl.”
His brow quirks, and something stirs behind his eyes. “Oh, she had a good time. Trust me on that.”
He says it in this confident, knowing way that shoots a thrill down my spine, and I try not to picture what he means. “Cocky, are we?”
“Where it counts.”
I nearly choke on the pool water, and judging by Landon’s grin, my reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. Face flaming, I hastily change the subject. “Well, your high school dating experience could have been way worse. My boyfriend not only cheated on me but knocked up the other girl. It was humiliating.”
A dark, almost protective, look passes over Landon’s face. “He’s an idiot, Violet.”
I nod in agreement. “Trust me, I know. I’m not holding a torch for the guy or anything. He was kind of a dick, even before he cheated on me. I was just too blind to see it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was so wrapped up in trying to fit in that I just…went along with whatever he wanted. If he wanted to go to a party, I went. If he wanted me to get drunk, I did. If he wanted to sleep with me, I let him.” Landon’s frown deepens, but I keep talking. “And hestillcheated on me. I’m pathetic.”
“Stop talking about yourself that way,” he says, still looking unhappy. “He’sthe pathetic asshole who was too fucking stupid to appreciate what he had.”
I blink at him, surprised by the adamancy in his tone.
Well, okay then.
“I’m pretty sure Sam’s married to Shelby now because of the kid, which isn’t uncommon where I’m from. If you’re not trapped by fear or money, it’s pregnancy or drugs.” I shudder. “My absolute worst nightmare.”
“You always wanted to leave, then?”
I nod slowly. “I think so. I never wanted to be stuck there. And after my mom died, I needed to escape the town where I would be forever known as the girl whose mom killed herself.” I clear my throat and try to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. “I bet you know little something about suffocating under the weight of other’s expectations.”
“Oh?” he asks, drawing out the word like he’s unsure of where this is going.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to hide a grin. “Your mom made you model for Ralph Lauren Kids, didn’t she? I bet she was bummed when you didn’t make the cover.” Landon and I stare at each other for a moment, and then I burst out laughing. I start swimming across the pool to grab my phone, which is sitting by the tiled edge. “I’m going to ask Eli if he has those photos right now.”
“You will not,” Landon says and starts wading toward me. I plant my palms on the edge to lift myself up, extending one of my hands toward the phone a few feet away. My fingertips just manage to graze the screen when his big hand wraps around my ankle, tugging me lightly.
“Don’t you dare,” he says, and without warning, he yanks me backward into the water. I squeal and splash him, struggling to get back to the edge, but he grabs me around the middle, hands positioned precariously close to my stomach. I freeze.
“I swear to God, Landon,” I say, barely breathing. “Tickle me, and I will end you.”
“Challenge accepted,” he murmurs, his mouth close beside my ear.
My heart starts racing, and then…he does it. He starts tickling me, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I would hurt him. If someone tickles me, it’s war. I become a violent animal, struggling against his body, desperate to break free of his obnoxiously strong arms. Realizing I can use the side of the pool for leverage, I somehow rotate my body and wrap my legs around his waist, pressing my chest flush with his to try to distract him.
It works. He stills, hands freezing on my hips. After a moment, they fall away from my body, probably aware of the precarious position we’re in. He expects me to detach, but I can’t. I won’t. I don’t know if it’s the summer heat, or the warm water, or the sudden charge in the air, but my eyes drop to his mouth, mere inches from mine.
