Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3) (15 page)

Damien, Luke, and I sit on the rooftop deck with a few other guys, drinking beer and grilling some burgers. The girls are inside, supposedly changing into bathing suits but, judging from the amount of time they're taking, I'm guessing there's other female rituals involved in the process.

Brian, one of Luke's friends, is in the middle of a story when he halts mid-sentence. The patio doors squeal open behind us and all heads turn in that direction just as Julia steps out onto the deck holding a drink in her hand, alone.
 

If I were drunker, I might hang my head in disappointment at the fact that she's not in a bikini. She's still dressed in the jean shorts and the simple V-neck blouse that shows off her cleavage despite how often she tries to readjust it. I'm beginning to wonder if she's purposefully hiding her body, embarrassed of it somehow. It would be a damn shame because she's got the kind of shape fantasies are made of.

All the guys waver in varying degrees of throat clearing and seat shifting at the topic of the conversation we've just abandoned. Julia acts like she doesn't notice, taking a seat at the only opening, between Luke and Brian. The space is wide enough so that she isn't touching either of them, but as she settles in, Luke locks eyes with me and wiggles his eyebrows up and down a few times before plastering on an almost harmless expression. She's met all these guys before, with the exception of Damien, at the party we had at our house. But I don't like how comfortable she seems around them. It's as if she has no clue what her proximity does to men.

"What are you guys up to?" she asks, addressing the group, but looking directly at me.

"Trust me," Luke says, "you don't want to know."

Brian coughs up his drink then clears his throat. Julia looks unconcerned. "Try me."

"Brian was just telling us how he got caught by campus police last quarter,
uh
—" Luke snorts "—showing a lady the backstage area of the performance arts studio."

"Was there a show?" She stares straight at Brian, face so innocent, tone so unassuming, that it makes all of us go still. When he doesn't answer her, she pries further, "Are you a performance arts major?"
 

As Brian glances around for help on how to respond, Julia's innocent expression evaporates. "I'm just messing with you, Brian. Who were you screwing back there?"

Brian is hesitant at first to tell the story in front of her, but Julia prods him for details, nudging him until I'm left surprised by the graphic details he gives. Things we'd never say around a woman for fear of offending her.
 

But Julia just narrows her eyes at him and says, "Man, you're a disgusting asshole."
 

The guys laugh, though it's obvious she wasn't kidding. What's funny is the unapologetic way she says it, like it was the elephant in the room we needed to acknowledge after hearing his ridiculous story.
 

I pull out my phone and shoot her a text message.

[You don't have to listen to this.]

A second later, she sits up at what I'm assuming is a vibration in her pocket because I don't hear a sound alert. She pulls out her phone and reads the message, glancing at me before typing her response. There's a new discussion happening around us. One I'm not even remotely paying attention to as I wait for Julia's response.

[I don't remember giving you my number.]

[Ava gave it to me. Thought I should have it. You know, for emergency purposes.]

[Right. And what's the emergency here?]

[I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you're surrounded by hungry wolves.]

And, God, you look delicious.

[I've dealt with worse. Trust me. And this conversation is an improvement to what's going on inside.]

[Drama?]

[Like you wouldn't believe. The girl with the short black hair? Three people are trying to find a way into the bathroom because she's in there crying hysterically.]

[What happened?]

[I guess the guy she was dating just broke up with her via text.]

[So wait. You're telling me there's a cute girl in the bathroom, all by herself, upset, and possibly wanting a revenge fuck?]

My lips turn up as I meet her glare from where she sits. Unrelated laughter from the guys breaks up the lull.

[You're a class act, Giles.]

[What, are you saying you don't know the benefits of angry sex?]

[Can't say I do.]

[That surprises me, seeing as how you're angry all the time. I would think any sex you have is angry.]

Again, she looks up to narrow her eyes at me in silent warning, though there's the smallest hint of a smile in them that encourages me.

[Well, let me enlighten you, little leopard. Angry sex is intense fucking. Letting out your frustration into another person. Showing them how mad you are by pounding into them until you both feel good again.]

I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, but I think she's shifting in her seat.

[Little leopard? Is that code for something?]

[Do you want it to be?]

She ignores my question and responds with her own.
 

[But if it's angry sex, shouldn't both people be angry at each other?]

[Yeah, I guess you're right. It wouldn't be an angry fuck for me because I'm not mad. If I were mad, I'd make it so you would be sore for days.]

[Watch your pronouns, mister.]

[Huh?]

[You said 'you' instead of 'she.']

[Oh. I did?]

She takes her phone and pointedly presses the power button until the glow of the screen disappears. Then she gives me a sarcastic grin that tells me the conversation is over.

But, see, I don't think it is.

We rejoin the group's discussion. As soon as he gains Julia's attention again, Luke delivers the same lame line I've heard him use multiple times before. The one where he jokes about being sort of a big deal, before revealing he's the mascot for the Padres. Julia demands to see pictures and so Luke pulls some up on his phone. She laughs at the sight.
 

The Padres mascot is a big, cartoonish looking friar. Fat and balding, wearing a monk's gown with the team logo embroidered on its chest. It's not what you'd expect a guy like Luke to agree to wear, which I suppose adds to the entertainment value he's going for.
 

Luke knows as well as I do that getting a girl to laugh is one of the sure ways into her pants. Not missing a beat, he tells Julia she should come to a baseball game sometime to see him in action. She brushes off his comments without even bothering to respond.
 

The guys pretend they aren't all angling to get closer to her, or that their jokes aren't tailored to make her laugh harder. I don't like it. Sure, these are my friends, but that only means I know exactly what's going on in their sick heads.
 

I can plainly see that Brian and Luke are holding out hope to be the one to get lucky with Julia. The thought of either of them looking at her as a prospect is enough to set my teeth on edge. I'm not sure why. I haven't made a real effort to hook up with her, I guess in a way I've just been enjoying her in other ways. I've been getting too comfortable with her being around all the time. Still, that doesn't mean I'm going to let a single one of these guys lay a finger on her tonight. Or any night.

I ask Damien to take over the grill, since I'm already too distracted, and pull off my t-shirt, which reeks of smoke. I grab another beer, unable to keep from checking to make sure Luke's hand doesn't wander from his lap to Julia's.

A quick sweep of the deck shows me a seating area, just a little farther back. I head in that direction, purposefully away from the others. Luckily, my move goes unnoticed because right then the rest of the girls come out of the house in their swimsuits, flaunting their bare stomachs, smooth legs, and bikinis that barely cover their asses.
 

Julia's still sitting beside Luke, with Brian already headed into the pool with the other guys. We lock eyes and I hook a finger at her, expecting her to roll those brown eyes and ignore my signal to come toward me. But Julia never does what I expect her to do. She gets up and heads my way.

"What are you drinking?" I ask, nodding to the cup she's been holding. I've yet to see her take a sip since coming out on the deck.

"Ava made me have this coconut rum thing. I'm not even finished with it and my head is fuzzy. I'm done after this."

"Good." I don't want her inhibitions lowered too far around these guys. Then again, I know her enough to know she wouldn't like me telling her what to do in the slightest. "Ava's drink will knock a grown man on his ass."

Julia nudges me aside so she can sit next to me. Her arm brushes the side of my torso. "I'm watching you," she says, staring straight ahead.

"Watching me?"

"Don't think I forgot it's your move. Don't think I'm buying this weeklong hiatus. You're planning something, and I'm not falling for it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie. "I'm done with the pranks."

"Sure you are. And another thing. Why'd you take off your shirt just to call me over here? I bet you think you're so irresistible."

I'm facing straight, eyes on the pool scene before us, but in my peripheral, she's watching me so closely she might be able to see the smile threatening to curve my lips. When I turn my face, I find hers distractingly close.
 

"Am I?" I ask.

She snorts, the genuine sound evidence I caught her off guard. "Not to me, you're not. Consider me immune."

I watch her for a few seconds and she stares right back at me, despite how close our faces are. Dauntless. I already have the shape of her lips memorized. It's not something I ever decided to do, it just happened in all the time I've been stealing glances at them, day by day. The space we put between us has grown shorter and shorter in the time we've been roommates.
 

When she first moved in, she'd never sit right beside me like this. But now, she's close enough to kiss. I could lean into her and finally feel those lips between mine. Taste them, breathe them in. My gut's telling me to hold off. I need to get her alone, first. She wouldn't kiss me with everyone watching.

A loud shriek of laughter brings our sights forward, to where Damien is holding a writhing Ava over the edge of the pool. Beside me, Julia sits back and we fall into silence. A comfortable silence that takes me by surprise.

I take another swig of my beer and realize that maybe it's my own inhibitions that are lowered, when I say, "These past few weeks…" I hesitate, but it's too late to redirect the statement now. "It's been fun, believe it or not. It's helped keep a lot off my mind."
 

"What are you trying to keep off of your mind?"

I shake my head then bring the bottle of beer up as I point to the side of my temple. It's the only way I know how to say it.
 

Too much shit.

"I can relate," she says and I'm grateful she doesn't ask me to elaborate. I wouldn't know how. "There's a lot I've been trying not to think about, too."

A few more seconds pass, filled with the sounds of splashing water, playful yelling, and laughter.

"Is this us getting along?" I ask.

She laughs and holds up her drink. "We should drink together more often."

I nod to the pool. "I'm guessing you don't want to swim."

"No. I forgot my swimsuit, and before you say what I know you'll say, none of these girls have a top that'll fit me."

I chuckle, taking the opportunity to eye her figure as though she gave me permission. The image of her naked, with water droplets dotting her smooth skin is impossible to get out of my head.

She has no idea where my mind is because her tone is innocent and unassuming when she asks, "Did you see they have a game room? I saw a pool table in there. Wanna play?"

"Absolutely," I say. "Let's go play."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Julia

T
HE
GAME
ROOM
IS
on the second floor, one level down from the rooftop deck. It's a spacious room with a modern feel to it. The high ceiling is the same color as the green of the pool table, and it seems to glow in the recess lighting dotting every few feet of its surface. The large windows ahead frame nighttime views of the yacht club harbor. And beyond that, the glittering shapes of the downtown buildings are visible in the distance.