Calista wastes no time sinking into the water and grabbing the ball. I love that girl and her competitiveness.
“What’s up, Chevelle?” I say, laying a towel on the lounge chair next to her. Guess I am going to lie next to her after all.
“I might punch Cam in the face today, but other than that, not much.” She shrugs.
Chevelle works outside, so she already has that glow from being on a boat all day. Me, on the other hand? I’m ghost-white, and my pale skin won’t tan anyway. It burns.
“I’m trying to even out my lines.” My stepsister points out her short and T-shirt lines. I guess we all have our problems.
I shed my clothes down to my bathing suit and pull out my sunscreen. “Let’s go back to the Cam thing.”
Cam is Fisher’s best friend, and as long as I’ve been in this blended family, Cam’s been around. Hell, he even joins us after Thanksgiving dinner to play games and have dessert, saying that his parents are boring. The guy probably wishes he was a Greene. Right now, he’s over by the beer bucket with Adam.
“He’s all up in my business.” She rolls her eyes. “Love that suit.” She touches the fabric because Chevelle does what she wants when she wants. She means no harm in it, it’s just her. “Where did you get it?”
I bite my lip, wondering if I should admit it’s from a trendy plus-size shop. It’s not like it’s anywhere she or any of my sisters can shop. I buy the majority of my clothes from the shop even though their fondness for skulls and three-quarter-length sleeves make me a little crazy. It’s like they think bigger women don’t get cold or something.
“Online,” I answer simply.
“Love the cherries,” she says. The top portion is white with cherries on it, and the bottoms are just black.
“Thanks.”
“Man, I’d kill for your cleavage,” she says and looks down at her own chest.
“You’d have to gain the ass to go along with it.” I rub sunscreen over my arms and chuckle.
“Fine by me. I’d kill for curves like yours.”
She’s not saying it to try to be kind. I know she means it. Chevelle means most of what she says.
I decide to change the subject. “Midge wants to set me up with her grandson.”
Chevelle laughs. “Be careful, she might kidnap the man to make it happen. Or you.”
“Yeah, she’d go from stealing to kidnapping.” I laugh, which garners the attention of the guys at the beer bucket.
Chevelle glares at Cam for a moment, then relaxes back into the lounger.
I close my eyes and soak up the sun, kicking summer into gear. It’s my favorite season because I’m too busy to think too much about what I don’t have in my life—a man. I’m so busy running a successful inn that by the time I get home, I crash in my bed. Okay, maybe I dig into my sex toy drawer, but who could blame me? During the summer, there’s not even time for casual sex.
Just as I feel myself dozing off, a girl screams, startling me.
Calista jumps out of the water with a scream and shoots the basketball. She misses the net and I rebound, making the shot. This is so awkward. I mean, we tolerate each other at best and now she’s at my house and I have to play host to her.
“I suck,” she says before swimming toward the stairs of the pool and sitting down on one.
I don’t respond because I’m not gonna be the one who boosts her ego. She doesn’t suck, but she’s not that good either.
“Do you want to do something else?” I ask.
She glances at me. “I can’t believe my great-grandma dragged me here. She told me we were going shopping and would swing by Northern Lights to swim during the family swim time.” She crosses her arms.
I try not to notice she has a chest now. At practice, she’s always covered up with a baggy jersey. But this swimsuit of hers shows everything. I’m thankful I’m in the water.
“Call your dad to come and get you,” I say, because honestly, I don’t want her here. Am I supposed to spend my entire summer bash day entertaining her instead of hanging out with my brothers? They’re all leaving and getting married, and I rarely get to see them all at the same time. I was excited to play touch football or Marco Polo or something with them. Now I have to entertain a girl who looks at me as though she wants to kick me in the balls most of the time.
“I’m not gonna do that. Plus, he’s working.”
“Maybe your mom can pick you up?” I suggest.
She huffs and walks up the pool stairs. “Nice, Rylan.”
I roll my eyes and swim away. She grabs her towel and sits down by my sisters on the loungers. I pick up my basketball and keep shooting until Cam cannonballs into the pool and all the girls complain about him splashing them.
I laugh as he steals the ball from me and shoots. Of course, it goes in.
“When Adam was your age, I had to nudge him toward Lucy,” he says, never looking my way as he takes another shot. “He was all awkward like you right now and look where he is now.”
I balk. He’s got to be joking. As if Calista and I would ever end up married one day.
He passes me the ball. “You think I’m joking? Ask them. I made them play chicken and it was love after that.”
I shake my head. “Good for them, but as soon as I graduate, I’m out of this town.”
Cam raises his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because I want to play soccer and there’s nowhere here to play. I’m gonna get a scholarship, get an education, and hopefully play professionally after I graduate.”
I have my entire life figured out, and a wife and kids don’t come into my plan until after I retire from playing soccer. The last thing I’d want is to have someone to report to all the damn time.
“You need to live a little.” Cam scores again.
Fisher jumps in the pool and takes the ball. “What are we talking about?” He fakes me out and jumps up out of the water to dunk on the net. The flimsy thing wobbles but stays upright.
“Apparently Rylan’s got his whole life figured out and it doesn’t include the cute girl over there.” Cam’s gaze lingers where my sisters and Calista sit, but we all know who he’s looking at.
Fisher throws the basketball and hits Cam in the head. “Eyes over here.”
Cam turns back around and smirks at getting caught stealing looks at Chevelle.
“Don’t be one of those people who plan out their entire life. Just live your life and see where it takes you.” Fisher passes the ball to Cam while I try to play defense.
“I plan on living my life according to what I want,” I say, trying to catch the ball when Fisher throws it to Cam.
Fisher laughs, as does Cam. They think they know everything just because they’re older than me.
“When I was your age, I wanted to be a pro football player,” Fisher says.
“Definitely not the sheriff!” Cam laughs.
“Fuck no.” Fisher abandons the ball and leans back on the concrete ledge, his tattooed arms spread wide. Looking at him now, you’d never think he’s the sheriff.
“I wanted out of this town and far away from my family,” Cam says, taking a shot on the net.