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I push myself off the wall and make him look up at me.

“I’m what?”

“Allowed not to be worried by any of it.”

One of the pool guys laughs too loudly. The sound cuts through the yard.

“So what do you want from me?”

Paul follows my gaze, then looks back. “I don’t know yet.”

“Bullshit.”

His eyes harden.

“I want time,” he says. “I want the chance to understand what Renny intended before decisions get made out of anger.”

“You think I’m angry?”

“Yes.”

“At least you’re paying attention.”

“And I don’t blame you.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be reasonable. It makes me want to break something.”

For one second, his mouth twitches. Then he seems to remember himself.

“I’m not asking you to walk away,” he says.

“Not directly.”

“I’m asking you to understand the size of this.”

I step closer before I think better of it. I’m bigger than him. Taller. Broader. I know he feels it. I can see it in the upward tilt of his chin.

“I understand more than you think.”

The air between us tightens. Anger. Something mixed with it.

Paul’s eyes drop. Not to my mouth, but lower. It happens fast, but not fast enough.

Heat hits me so fast I almost step back.

Paul looks away first.

Across the pool, Becca has lost the green dress.

It hangs over the back of a chaise like she left it there for someone else to worry about. She’s in her bikini and heels, one hand in the air, laughing as Georgia spins her under a raised arm.

For one second, I can only stare.

Paul sees it too. The dress on the chaise. The bikini. The heels. Georgia fanning herself theatrically while the pool boys cheer her on.