“You could have warned me,” she accuses, turning to face me once she’s adjusted herself. “Dropping in without notice was sneaky on your part.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I remind her. “I was planning to help myself to some underwear and be on my way.”
Gen just sighs.
“You know, this whole topless scheme of yours—”
“Scheme? I didn’t know you were coming,” she protests.
I ignore that. “Reminds me of that field trip senior year,” I finish, not even pretending I’m not watching the little beads of condensation that fall off her water glass and travel down her chest as she takes a sip.
“What field trip?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” That trip was pretty damn unforgettable.
Her lips curve slightly before flattening in a tight line. “How about we don’t go there?” she says with another sigh.
“Go where?” I blink innocently. “The aquarium?”
“Evan.”
“It was raining that day. You were mad at me because you said I was flirting with Jessica in math class, so you showed up the next day for the field trip in a white tank top with no bra to throw yourself at Andy What’s-his-face. So we get off the bus in the rain, and then everyone’s catching an eyeful of your twins.”
There’s a long beat, during which I can see her resolve crumbling.
“You stole me a T-shirt from the gift shop,” she says grudgingly.
I hide a smile of satisfaction. So easy to get her to join me on this trip down memory lane. “Because I would have had to break Andy Fuck Face’s nose for staring at your tits the whole trip.”
Again, she pauses. Then, “Maybe I thought it was hot when you got jealous.”
My smile breaks free. “Speaking of jealous …”
Her expression goes cloudy. “What?”
“I saw the murder in your eyes at the bonfire the other night.” When she doesn’t take the bait, I toss out another lure. “You know, when I was talking to that college chick.”
“Talking?” she echoes darkly. A familiar hint of murder glints in her eyes before her lips quickly curl in annoyance—directed at herself.
I know Genevieve, and right now she’s kicking herself for showing weakness. So, as expected, she deflects.
“You’re referring to the girl whose boyfriend beat you up?” Gen flashes a saccharine smile. “The one who only pretended she wanted to get with you to make her man jealous?”
“One, you’re not allowed to look that gleeful at the idea of someone beating me up. Two, I didn’t get beat up—that dude’s crew had to carry him away, in case you didn’t notice. And three, if I’d wanted to get with her, I would’ve gotten with her.”
“Uh-huh. Because from where I was standing, it looked like you tried to shoot your shot and she left with her boyfriend.”
“Tried? I wasn’t trying.” I tip my head in challenge. “Genevieve. Baby. We both know I have no trouble convincing women to take their clothes off.”
“And he’s modest too.”
I wink at her. “Modesty is for guys who don’t get laid.”
I’m gratified to see her swallow. Christ. I want to fuck her. It’s been so long. Too long. Doesn’t matter how many girls I hooked up with in Gen’s absence. No one compares to her. No one gets me as hot, makes me as crazy.
“Well, since seduction comes so easy for you, why don’t you skedaddle and go find someone who wants to be seduced?” With a bitchy flick of her eyebrows, Gen picks up her water and takes another sip.
I snort. “Stop pretending like you don’t want to rip my clothes off and fuck me in that pool.”
“I don’t.” Her tone is confident, but I don’t miss the flare of heat in her eyes.
“No?” I say, licking my suddenly dry lips.
“No,” she repeats, but her confidence is slipping.
“Really? Not even a teeny, tiny part of you is tempted?”
Her throat dips as she gulps again. I see her hand trembling slightly as she puts down her glass.
I lean closer, breathing deeply. The salty, sweet scent of tanning oil is rich in the humid air. I want to rip her top off with my teeth and wrap her hair between my fingers. She tries to act like she’s so above it all, but I can see her pulse thrumming on the side of her neck, and I know she feels the same insatiable need.
“Meet me later,” I say without forethought but then commit to the idea. “Our spot. Tonight.”
She’s impassive behind those silver reflective sunglasses. But when she bites her lip and hesitates to answer, I know she’s considering it. She wants to say yes. It’d be so easy. Because we’ve never had to try to be together, it’s just natural. Our tides always flowing in the same direction.
Then she pulls away. She stands and wraps a towel around her waist. The impenetrable wall goes up and I’m locked on the other side.
“Sorry,” she says with a dismissive shrug. “I can’t. I have a date.”
CHAPTER 9
GENEVIEVE
Three hours after my encounter with Evan, I’m still kicking myself. In a moment of triumphant stupidity, my mouth ran away from me, and now I’ve got to materialize a date for tonight out of thin air. After the lie popped out of my foolhardy mouth, Evan was naturally pissed, though he was doing his best to act like it was no big deal. Sometimes he forgets I know him too well. All his tics and tells. So, while pretending he wasn’t fuming inside, he’d quizzed me on the where and when, which compounded one lie with another, and then another. I managed to dodge on the question of who by insisting Evan wouldn’t know the guy, but I wouldn’t put it past him to check up on me, so therein lies the rub.
By eight o’clock tonight, I need to come up with a man to take me out.
Since I’m not about to hop on Tinder for a fake date to dissuade my ex, I throw up the SOS in our group chat, then end up at Steph and Alana’s place to get the brain trust together on this one. Heidi’s at work, which is probably a good thing because her advice in the chat thread was utterly useless. Tell stupid lies, win stupid prizes, she’d texted in her typical no-nonsense way.
Ugh. I mean … she’s not wrong.
“So you emotionally masturbated to teasing Evan with your boobs and then swerved him,” Alana says to my explanation of events. We’re sitting on their back porch while I try visualizing my sweet tea with vodka in it. “I mean, not to take his side, but I’d call that mixed signals.”
“I don’t think I’m telling it right. He walked in on me.”
Steph regards me in amusement. “Yeah. But you kinda liked it.”
“It’s fine if you did,” Alana tells me, reclining on the porch swing while she sways back and forth. “Everybody’s got a kink.”
“It’s not a kink.”
Although, now that she’s named it, I suppose she isn’t so far-off. Evan and I have always had this tension between us. Pushing and pulling. Making each other jealous and manipulating a response. It’s all part of the bad habits I’m trying to break. Yet, in doing so, I’m repeating the steps. New tune, same old dance.