Okay, that’s a lie. I think about Blaine about ninety-nine percent of the time. But hey, what else am I supposed to think about? Blaine is the easiest thing to occupy my brain … and the less painful.
“I’m telling the truth.” I flip the page of the mystery book I’ve been reading for the last hour while Masie and I have been sun tanning. Or, well, Masie has been tanning while I doused my body in so much sunscreen I feel like a greasy french fry.
Masie is the opposite of me. Her tanned skin glistens against the sun. Add that to her sun-kissed blonde hair and curvy body, she’s practically a beach goddess. And then there’s me. Long, dark brown, nearly black hair; pale skin with a few freckles here and there; tall; and slightly on the gangly side. I look like I belong in a basement or a crypt. That’s okay, though. The look doesn’t bother me. It used to, back in the day when I actually used to wear a lot of pink and glittery things. But after my parents died, I decided to hell with it and became a new person. A person who wears a lot of black and studded clothing, and who would never, ever be caught dead wearing anything sparkly.
“You don’t belong in a crypt,” Masie says as she reaches for a glass of lemonade on the table between us.
“I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”
“Yeah, well, you did.” She takes a sip of the drink then sets the glass down. “You know, you talk to yourself a lot.”
“And you say that a lot.”
“Touché.” She grins.
I mirror her grin, then frown when the back gate to her house creaks open.
Bolting upright, I rush to grab my towel to cover up, because there is no way in hell I’m going to let anyone see this much of me.
“Don’t you dare.” Masie sits up and snatches the towel from my hands.
“Give me that back,” I growl, lunging at her.
Grinning, she jumps up from the lounge chair and skitters toward the diving board.
The gate is around the corner of her two-story brick house that she rents from her parents, so I don’t have a view of who’s coming back here. The last thing I want is for her younger brother, the pool cleaner, the landscapers, or anyone else to see me rocking a two-piece. Granted, it’s a nice two-piece—black with cute, little boy short bottoms, embroidered with stars—but my stomach, legs, cleavage—what I have, anyway—and even the bottom of my ass cheeks are on complete display. And I’m not comfortable with anyone other than Masie—and even her I’m not that comfortable with—seeing me like this.
“Masie …” I warn as I hurry toward her. “If you don’t give me my towel back, I’ll …”
She hops onto the diving board with my towel in her hand. “You’ll what?” She inches toward the edge.
“I’ll …” I rack my brain for a nice, vicious threat, my gaze skimming the backyard, the pool, the lounge chairs. When I spot the high-heeled, designer shoes she wore out here, an idea strikes me. I turn around, grinning at her. “I’ll throw your shoes in the pool.”
Her teasing grin fades. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wanna bet?” I pad over to the lounge chair, pick up her shoes, then walk to the edge of the pool, dangling her pretty footwear that I could never afford over the water. “Now, come on; give me my towel back.”
She eyes the shoes then sighs as she backs up. “Fine. But please just step away from the water. You’re making me nervous.”
I take a few steps back, remaining close enough in case she backs out of our agreement.
Frowning, she makes her way off the diving board and climbs down the ladder. As her feet plant on the concrete, the back-gate intruder rounds the house.
Suddenly, her younger brother, the pool boy, or the landscapers don’t seem that terrible of options, because the person who enters the backyard is none other than Blaine.
As always, he’s in full sexy form; light brown hair, the most gorgeous blue eyes ever, a rock-hard body, lean arms. He’s sporting board shorts and a green shirt, my favorite color on him.
Wait. Back the hell up. He’s wearing board shorts, which means someone must have invited him over here to swim. And since this lovely, two-story, swimming pool palace belongs to only one person …
I narrow my eyes at Masie, who flashes me an innocent look before a devious grin spreads across her face.
That little brat. She totally did this on purpose. Why? To humiliate me in front of Blaine while I’m wearing a bikini? Granted, she probably doesn’t think this is humiliation since she insists I look great. In fact, my guess is she thinks she’s doing me a favor. That if Blaine sees me in all of my glorious, ass hanging out form, we’d have one of those guy-realizes-his-best-friend-is-really-beautiful-underneath-the-punk-clothes-and-unbrushed-hair moments. That’s not going to happen, though, and Blaine more than proves it.
“Since when do you wear a bikini?” he asks, giving me a weird, confused look.
I wrap my arms around myself. “Masie made me wear it.”
A pucker forms at his brow as his gaze sweeps up and down my body, not in a holy-hell-she-looks-sexy way, but in a what-is-this-strange-creature-before-me way. “You look … weird.”
“I know. That’s what I told Masie.” I pretend to be all chill, yet I’m wounded, like a unicorn horn to the heart. Yeah, okay, maybe I do have a weird sense of reality.
“I think she looks great,” Masie protests,
whacking Blaine in the gut. “And you should, too.”
Blaine shoots her a dirty look. “I never said she didn’t look great. I just think it’s weird she’s wearing a bikini. I figured that’s your influence”—he steps back to eye her up and down—“since that’s pretty much all you wear.”
My stomach twinges. Is that a little bit of lust I detect in his eyes?
Masie smirks then does a little twirl. “I wear it because I look hot. What else should I wear?”
“Clothes.” He smirks. “You know, those pieces of fabric that cover up your—”
She swats him again, and he laughs, his eyes crinkling around the corners.
She shakes her head, but a trace of a smile touches her lips. “You’re such a perv.” Then she whirls around, drops my towel, skips toward the pool, and does a perfect swan dive into the water. When she resurfaces, her hair is dripping wet, water beads her skin, and the water makes her white bikini top kind of see through. If it was anyone else, I’d tell them. But Masie won’t care. She’s never been ashamed of her body, flaunting it whenever she can. In a way, I sort of envy her, but not enough to actually flaunt my body.
While she’s distracted, I pad over to my towel, scoop it up, and wrap it around me.
Blaine, whose eyes have been locked on Masie, finally looks at me again.
He frowns when he notices the towel secured around me. “Alexis, I didn’t mean anything by what I said.” He tensely massages the back of his neck. “You just took me by surprise. That’s all.” His eyes stray to Masie again.
My already cracked heart shatters even more. Since when has he been so interested in Masie? I mean, sure, she’s totally his type—blonde, curvy, and flirty—but he’s never showed any interest before.
I swallow the lump wedged in my throat, refusing to show any sort of hurt. See? This is why you have your wall. Hide behind it!
“I was going to put the towel on before you said anything, but Masie stole it. Well, until I threatened to throw her shoes in the pool.”