by Ann, Becca
“Bodily harm my ass. Man up! Now come on. There’s a hot tub with our names on it.”
I stand up ready to head out into the cold when a hoodie is draped over my shoulders. I wrinkle my nose. “Ryan, how am I supposed to win over Sean in your sweatshirt? I mean don’t get me wrong it’s nice, but not nearly as sexy as my bikini.” I shake it off and let it fall to the floor.
His eyes move down to my boobs, but he darts them back up as if he wasn’t looking. “Pneumonia isn’t sexy either.
“Sandy wasn’t wearing a sweatshirt.” I protest, hands poised on my hips in my don’t-mess-with-me stance.
A dimple winks at the corner of his mouth. “Really? You’re using her as an argument? Put the damn sweatshirt on.”
I shift from one foot to the other and peek up at him through long lashes. He isn’t budging. His dimple went back into hiding, and he doesn’t look amused.
The longer it takes us to get to the hot tubs, the more likely we’ll miss Sean or worse he’ll already be macking face with Sandy. I did not spend sixty bucks on a bathing suit for it not to be seen.
“Fine!”
He picks the hoodie off the floor and hands it to me. “You’re welcome,” he says and smirks in triumph.
I roll my eyes and start to walk away. “Lex?” I turn back around. Ryan is zipping up his own jacket, but keeps his eyes on me.
“Yeah, Ry?”
“Sweatshirt or not, if Sean doesn’t notice you…he’s an idiot.”
“And that’s why you’re my best friend. Now come on.” I lock my arm around his, muscles flexing at my touch. I roll my eyes again and pull him out the door. “Holy crap, it’s cold!” I yank Ryan closer to me, hugging his bicep like it’s the only source of heat in the world.
“But you wanted to walk out in an eye patch.” His arm wraps around my waist, and he draws me close to him. Heat radiates from his sides, and I nuzzle closer. He runs his hands up and down my sleeve, creating friction and a little bit of warmth.
“Eye patch?”
“That’s about as big as what you’re wearing.”
“For your information this eye patch cost me a day’s pay.”
His hand stops, so do his feet. His lips press into a thin line. “Are you out of your freaking mind?”
“What?” I ask confused by his sudden anger.
“A day’s pay, Lex! For what? A few pieces of material. Really?”
“Looking hot is expensive.” I throw my hands up in the air. “What do you want from me?”
He runs his hands through his golden brown streaked hair that he thinks just looks dirty. Like it doesn’t know what color it wants to be. Crazy boy. I’d kill for his natural highlights. Not that I could pull them off. I don’t have his lingering summer glow.
“To realize you don’t need an overpriced bikini to look hot.”
I go to spit words back at him, but his hit me like a water balloon to the face. I’m pissed over his reaction. It’s my money. I can spend it however I want. But then I’m not pissed anymore. He always knows the right things to say. And it may just be because he knows me better than anyone else, but regardless a calm washes over me, and my mouth quirks up at the corners.
“I’ve saved every penny I’ve ever made. I just wanted to splurge on something that would make me feel good. And this bathing suit…makes me feel good.”
He heaves a gusty sigh. “Can’t argue with that now, can I?” Then throws his arm back over my shoulders. “Didn’t mean to—”
“Be you?”
He lowers his eyes to me. “Yeah.”
“Apology accepted. Now can we stop arguing? It’s seriously putting a damper on my mini vacation in paradise.”
“Truce.” He holds his hand out to me, and I shake it.
“Truce.”
The closer we get, the more steam is visible, rising from the tubs and into the bright blue skies. My feet break into a dance, but stop before anyone other than Ryan sees me.
“Calm down there, happy feet.”
“Do you see him?” I scan the three tubs, looking for the dark hair and gorgeous face. My heart sinks when they don’t find him.
A jab to my side makes me jump. “Over there.” Ryan nods his head to the far corner. And there in all his glistening glory is Sean. No Sandy. Score!
Coat hangers line the wall, and Nate’s fedora hangs near an open hook. I strut over to Sean, hips swaying as I let Ryan’s sweatshirt fall from my arms. I toss it back to Ry, and his face strains. I laugh it off because we called a truce, he can’t say a darn thing.
I know how good my ass looks, now if Sean will just look this way and see what he’s missing out on.
“Bestie! Over here!” My strut turns into a stagger as I lose my balance. Before I can straighten myself, my foot slips on a patch of ice. Cold, sharp pain runs through my butt cheek as I hit the deck with a loud thump.
My ass is cold, but my cheeks are burning with embarrassment. Talk about least sexy move ever.
“Lexie!” Sean’s voice fills my ears like a beautiful song. He pulls his body out of the water— dripping wet and oh my—and jogs over to me not missing a single step. “Are you okay?” His blue eyes look me up and down.
Sixty bucks well spent.
“Yeah, just a little embarrassed.”
Sean extends his hand to me, and my heart races at the sight. Anticipation of his skin against mine runs through me as I reach up to take hold. With one gentle tug he has me back on my feet.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” His dark hair drips water onto his chest, and I can’t help but watch as they run down his pecs.
“You look amazing,” he says, looking me over once more, but this time not hiding his approval.
I want to jump up and down clapping, but I’ll save that for behind closed doors. “Thanks.”
“Oh my God, Lex. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. How’s your ass? You hit hard!” Kaylee bounces obviously not immune to the cold air.
“Fine.”
“You do have plenty of cushion.”
My eyebrows rise, and I tilt my head in her direction. “Kaylee,” I say through clenched teeth.
“What? You do! I wish I had more cushion. Maybe my jeans would fit a little better.” Kaylee, how I love the girl, but sometimes her mouth is more destructive than a category five hurricane.
“Babe, it’s too cold. Come back here,” Nate calls from the hot tub, black hair slicked back, arms out in front of him waiting for Kaylee’s return. Ryan sits across from him, arms resting on the outer part of the deck.
“Coming,” she sings over her shoulder. She turns back to me, big green eyes rise, glossed lips purse together. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Still fine.”
“Okay good.” She jumps in the air does a spinny, turny thing and skips back to the boys without managing to ass plant. Guess she’s not as talented as me.
I honestly thought her and Nate wouldn’t leave their room for the whole trip. I’m happy they did. It’s nice to have familiar faces around even if she did just totally embarrass the heck out of me
Sean is still standing at my side, eyes roaming up and down the curves of my body. “Thanks for helping me up.”
“No problem.”
“Where’s Sandy?” As quickly as the words leave my mouth, I want to take them back. He’s here, standing with me, talking to me, checking me out, and I bring up the girl who stole him from me.
“Uh, bathroom.”
Probably making sure her makeup isn’t melting off her face from all the steam.
“So, you going to hit the trails tomorrow? I hear Bear Claw is a pretty sick hill.”
“I’d say so. It’s a double black diamond.”
Double black diamond exceptionally steep slopes and other hazards such as narrow trails, exposure to wind, and the presence of obstacles such as steep drop-offs or trees, intended only for the most experienced skiers. Thank you, Wikipedia.
I’ve never skied or snowb
oarded a day in my life, but Sean’s a seasoned snowboarder. He even spent last winter break in Switzerland.
Sean grabs my arm and leans down to my ear. I swear my heart stops. “You know Sandy and I—”
“Excuse me!” Sandy pushes past me and practically forces Sean’s arm around her. Her red bikini clashes with her pale skin and overdone hair. Unlike my black one that compliments any skin tone.
“I was just helping Lexie up. She slipped on the ice.”
“Whatever. I’m cold. Can we get back in the hot tub?”
“Sure,” Seans says, but his eyes are still on mine. “Maybe I’ll see you on the trails.” Sandy rips his arm, causing him to stumble away from me. He follows her to the other side of the deck, but his eyes linger on mine.
Lexie two.
Sandy zero.
Chapter 8
Ryan
I’m not enjoying the whole Operation Snag a Douchebag, but seeing Lexie in that bikini was worth it. Also having her climb on top of me and wake me up in it, I don’t think I would’ve minded if she sang Sean I Think I Love You in front of the entire senior class.
And even though it sucks, ‘cause things seem to be working on this stupid operation, it’s good to see Lex…happy. I’ve seen her like this before, but not as often as I’d like.
I shut off the water and climb out of the shower, taking my time drying off. Hot tubs are great for ski resorts, but I really think it’s just so the security guys can have a laugh at everyone pansy dancing in the snow as they try to hurry back to their warm cabins.
Lex called shower first, and I'd never seen her in just a towel. She just pranced right out, wet hair and towel wrapped around her like it was nothing. I tried to act “whatever” about it, but I’m pretty sure my jaw fell to the floor. It’s not just the fact she’s hot—because she is—but that she trusts me enough to room with me like it’s no big deal. And if I walked out in nothing but a towel, I’m pretty sure she’d start a towel whipping war or something.
Part of me likes that she’s that comfortable around me, and the other part thinks it stinks. Because that’s friend zone.
Still, good to be up here and see her just be Lexie. This week’s going to be better than I thought.
I pull on my boxers, pj bottoms, and tank and do a fake guitar strum out of the bathroom, humming I Think I Love You, because now that song is in my head. I wait for the ribbing from Lex about how I should never ever sing, but she’s quiet, curled up in bed with her eyes closed.
And she took my side. The goof.
Turning off the touch lamp that took a good hour to figure out how to use, I climb under the covers, trying to be careful about not touching her. Don’t want to cross any boundaries we may or may not have set. The only one I remember was to keep the morning wood away from her.
Agreed.
I hear a sigh from her side of the bed, which feels miles away. It’s not a pissy sigh, but an “I like it here” kind of sigh. Makes the corners of my mouth turn up, and I rest my head against my hands as I listen to her breathing.
“Ry?”
“Hmm?”
“How tired are you?”
I turn my head to look at her figure, but it’s too dark to make anything out.
“I’m not. You?”
There’s movement, sort of feels like she’s shrugging. No, she’s not shrugging. I lean up on my elbows and squint to try to make out anything in the darkness. I can’t really see, but what looks like shadowy hands stretch out in front of her, I notice the small twist of her pinky ring.
“What’s on your mind?” I say in the arrogant way that lets her know I know her too well, and I’m not going to ignore her silence.
She drops her hands on the blanket, and they land with a soft thud. “I know you don’t want to hear it.”
I grin, even though she can’t see it. “Try me.”
She turns, moving a little closer to me, but not enough that we’re touching. “Okay, it’s the D word.” Another shift closer. I don’t say anything. We don’t talk about our parents. We know what went down, had our big huge discussion when we were younger, and agreed never to talk about them again. To not give them more power over us.
She sighs. A pissy one this time. “Told you, you didn’t want to hear it.”
Her arms move, and I know she’s twisting that ring again. Her breathing is coming out funky too. As much as I want to block it all out, never hear about this again, I know she needs to talk about it. So I close my eyes and scratch the back of my head.
“What about your dad?”
The blanket lifts off me as she sits up. She’s still twisting that damn ring. I heave myself up to sit next to her and rub her back.
“I know we don’t talk about our parents, but since we’ll be in the same bed for a week, I should probably warn you.”
“Okay…”
She turns her head to look at me. Her breath smells like toothpaste—the cinnamon kind. I think it tastes like shit, but she says it reminds her of Big Red gum, which her dad used to carry around in his pocket.
“I have nightmares sometimes. A-about him.” She stops twisting her ring as she brings up her hand. “About the night he gave me this.”
I gulp. “What kind of nightmares?”
“Just stupid stuff, I guess. Like, he forgets me at the carnival. Or he tells me he’s not my real dad, and that’s why he hates me. Or instead of a ring, he gives me a goldfish that dies within a week. Or he leaves without giving me anything. No ring, no goldfish, nothing. Just tells me, ‘Well, kid. It’s been fun, but my life will be better without you.’ And he disappears, and I wake up holding my hand, making sure I still have this stupid mood ring.”
“It’s not stupid.”
“Yes, it is.”
I let out a small laugh. “No. It’s not.” Taking her by the hand, I run a finger over the smooth ball resting on her pinky. “You wouldn’t have kept it if it didn’t mean something to you.”
She shrugs. I chuckle again. Girl is stubborn.
“So, what does it mean to you?” I caress the back of her hand. I don’t know how girls keep their skin so soft. It’s like I can’t help but touch it. Even when I was tickling her before, she’s so soft, breakable, and sexy as hell. And here I am getting turned on by just feeling her hand. I pull away and clear my throat, so I can concentrate on her answer and not what’s going on in my chest. “You, uh, never told me.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to know.” She nudges me with her elbow and starts twisting the ring again. “I guess it means a lot because it’s the one thing that quiets the voice in my head.”
“You have a voice in your head?” I laugh.
“Shut up!” There’s a punch in the shoulder, which is harder than normal, but I blame that on her not being able to see much either. “I’m not going to tell you if you’re going to make fun.”
“Sorry, sorry. Go ahead. I’ll be nice.”
“What I meant was, when I look at it, I think maybe I wasn’t the reason he left. That he did love me, even if it was just a little bit.”
What? “Why would you think you’re the reason your dad left.”
“Because I am.”
I reach over and tap the light on. I have to see her face, because she has to be pulling my leg. After she’s done rubbing her eyes, I pull her hands from her face, looking into her deep brown irises. There’s no joke behind them. She’s not even crying about it. It's as if she’s been told she’s the reason behind her dad leaving so much she believes it. Not only believes it, but accepts it.
“Shit.”
“What?”
I’m not responsible for any of my actions. When it comes to her, I can’t help myself. I yank her down on my chest, holding her tight against me as we rest on the pillows. “I don’t care what you think or what your mom said, but you are not the reason.”
She lets out a breath, soaking my nostrils in cinnamon. “You didn’t know him, Ry.”
“I know you. And you weren�
��t the reason.” I grab her pinky. “I know I’ve given you crap about this, but if this is what keeps you from thinking your dad didn’t love you, I don’t want to see you ever take it off.”
She squeezes my middle, but I can tell she still doesn’t believe me. And it sounds like we’re done talking about it. She’s quiet and her breathing starts to slow. I think she’s drooling on my shirt too. I run my hand up and down her back, lost in thought.
How can this girl think that nobody loves her? Not even her own father. I get the mom thing. I’ve seen what she’s dealt with there. Was her dad worse?
I don’t think so. She would’ve said something about it. I always figured he left because of her mom, but Lex thought it was her this whole time. When we first told each other about our MIA dads, she said something like that, but I didn’t think she was serious.
I wrack my brain to that first conversation, which I usually try to block out. The conversation that started our friendship, but was too painful to talk about again. Seven-year-olds talking about a drunk mom, an up-and-left dad, a mom who screws everything that walks, and a dead dad. It brought us together, but it also left a big gap in our relationship, titled: Things we don’t talk about ever.
Or maybe that was just my rule. Maybe she wanted to talk about it, and I never let her. Cut her off from saying anything ‘cause I was too hurt to talk about my dad’s death.
Then I remember, back in the Lincoln. After Sean sucked face with Sandy, I told her to forget about it and she said…
“I’m the daughter of the town drunk and the reason my dad walked out—”
I shoot up in the bed, forgetting Lex was sleeping on me. She snorts and mumbles, “What’s going on?”
Running a hand through my crusted gelled hair, I shake my head. “Is that what this is about?”
“What are you talking about, Ry?”
I turn back and look at her. She’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Why you want Sean? To prove you’re capable of being loved?”
Her eyes grow wide for a second before she rolls them. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Because if that’s what she’s after, I’ll tell her right now how I feel.
