"Okay. I get it. You're not talking to me," Palmer said.
Ariana sighed as she checked her watch. Her entire body throbbed,
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thanks to its proximity to Palmer, and she wanted to burn all her skin off in punishment. She was not going to be attracted to him anymore. She couldn't be. He was Lexa's. Lexa's, Lexa's, Lexa's.
"We'll also need plenty of people to work the tables at the event, so if you're interested, please see me!" Tahira shouted as the crowd started to descend into conversation.
"What I don't get is why," Palmer added.
Ariana looked at him, stunned. She couldn't help herself. "You know why," she said.
Palmer's forehead creased in concern. "No. I really don't. I'm sorry if you misunderstood something here, but..."
His expression was one of complete innocence, his eyes imploring. As if he truly wanted to make sure she wasn't upset over some fictional wrong. Ariana wondered again if Palmer really was innocent. If she really had misunderstood him. But the longer they stood there, color started to rise in his cheeks, and he pulled his baseball out of his pocket to fidget with it. He definitely felt guilty about something.
"Hey, guys. What's up?" Lexa asked, joining them.
"Nothing," Ariana answered automatically, looking away from Palmer. Her face was burning with frustration and unanswered questions, and she wanted to get ou
t of there before either of them could notice. "I think I'm going to go talk to Tahira about working those tables."
"Wait. You don't have to do that," Palmer said. "Not if you're going to be the coxswain for the crew race."
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"What?" Ariana and Lexa said in unison.
"What?" Palmer replied, sliding his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "You are going to do it, right? The team needs you."
Ariana blinked and looked at Lexa. This was the first time she had heard about this. What game was Palmer playing exactly?
"But... I thought I was going to be the cox," Lexa said, her sweet brow furrowing. "We talked about it over the summer. . . ."
Palmer reached for Lexa's hand and squeezed it. "I know, Lex, but Ana is just . . . smaller. And have you seen how the other teams are stacked? We need every advantage we can get."
Lexa's pretty face turned the color of marinara sauce. She extracted her hand from Palmer's and tucked it under her elbow. "Smaller? What are you trying to say? You think I'm fat?"
Ariana almost laughed at the total mortification on Palmer's face. "No! Of course not. No," he protested. "But you're supermodel tall. Ana is just a lot more . . . petite." He reached for Lexa, but she turned aside, avoiding his touch.
"Whatever," she said. "If I'm so huge, that's fine. I don't want to sink your boat."
"Real nice, Palmer," Ariana put in.
"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, Lex," Palmer said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Lexa. "It's really just that Ana here is freakishly short."
He looked past Lexa's shoulder at Ariana and smiled, telling her he was just kidding. Ariana rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. She covered it with her hand, but it was too late. Palmer had seen, and
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now he was grinning as well. He leaned back, straightened his face, and looked at Lexa.
"Look, Ana has to contribute to the competition in some way, and are you really going to relegate her to the Dubai princess's slave squad?" he asked. "She'll transfer out before you even get a chance to give her one of your patented pedicures."
Lexa finally broke down and smiled. She glanced over at Ariana. "I do give excellent pedicures." She heaved a sigh and ran her hands down Palmer's chest, a gesture that made Ariana's own palms itch with longing. "Okay, fine. But you do realize that means I have to be Tahira's slave girl instead."
"Like Tahira would ever dare order you around," Palmer said with a smirk.