They don't say a word to each other the entire time.
Coming home to spend the summer with Granny is usually the highlight of my year. I have a sinking feeling this summer might be the exception to the rule.
4
Jett
"What the hell were you trying to pull back there?" Wilkin asks, barging into my bedroom.
"No, come in. Make yourself right at home."
"Can you grow up, please? I didn't ask for any of this to happen. I'd booked a nice cruise with my folks that I had to cancel."
I roll my eyes. "Boo hoo."
He huffs out a sigh and drags his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking out messily. "Look, whether we like it or not?—"
"Or not," I chirp.
Wilkin growls but continues. "We're going to be spending the next few weeks together. Are you able to act like an adult?"
"I don't know." I hop off the bed, cross the room, open a bottle of water left on the small table in the corner, and flick some at Wilkin. "Is this acting like an adult?"
"Urgghhhhh." His head falls back, and the long, elongated groan reverberates around the room.
And my body, shooting straight to my hole.
No, no,no. On top of everything else going on right now, I am not going to get turned on by Wilkin.
I refuse.
Admittedly…if he weren't a smug, entitled ass with the personality of a beige wall, I could see how some people might consider him attractive with his sharp cheekbones and intriguing eyes that sometimes look golden in just the right light. But Wilkin has done nothing but make my life hard for as long as I can remember, so I don't care how good-looking he is, I'm not interested in him.
Even if he does make my body react.
"Jett! Wilkin!"
Reeve's deep voice calls out from below. And possibly outside. I sidestep past Wilkin, who's drying himself like he just stepped out of the shower when I barely got any water on him, and open the window.
And almost fall out.
Because if I thought salad-making, Granny-loving, tight black T-shirt wearing Reeve was hot, seeing him in nothing but a pair of five-inch boardshorts is enough to make me self-combust.
He grins when he sees me. "Fancy a swim?"
"I fancy a lot more than that," I mutter under my breath. "I'd love to," I call out. "But I didn't bring a swimsuit."
"No problem. I'll lend you something. And Wilkin, too."
"Oh, don't bother. He can't swim."
"Like hell I can't," I hear from behind me, and then Wilkin shoves me out of the way and sucks in a breath so hard it's a miracle his lungs don't collapse.
"Is this really happening?" he whispers under his breath, gaping at Reeve in a way that is, like, so two minutes ago.
"Want to join me?" Reeve calls out.
"Of course. I'll be down in a sec."
