My eyes narrow. Now she’s pissing me off. Because I won’t let her prance around in front of all these boys practically naked. And no way is she copping an attitude with me. I’ll take her sassy little ass over my knee and—
Yes! Spank that ass!
Shit! Abort th—
“This must be the birthday girl,” Amy says, coming to stand between me and Blake. I almost forgot she was here. She puts her hand on my shoulder and leans into me.
I let her.
“It is.” Blake is seething.
Almost as much as I am. But our anger stems from two very different places.
“Fun,” Amy says, deliberately looking Bristol down and slowly up. “You’re turning, what, thirteen by the looks of it?” She cocks a full hip and thrusts her breasts out.
“Eighteen,” Bristol says, gritting her teeth.
“And, about to change into clothing more appropriate for ateenager,” I add.
Because fuck me, and goddamn her for growing up.
And for looking likethatin a bathing suit.
And for making me think things I don’t want to. Er, shouldn’t want to.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly; my chest shudders.
Amy looks at me and steps back, dropping her hand from my shoulder.
Probably good, all things considered. I don’t need the added complication of her thinking it’s okay to touch me.
“I’m not going to change,” Bristol says. “I’m going in the pool.”
She steps forward. Blake grabs her by the upper arm to stop her. If he hadn’t, I would have. She will not be parading around in front of theseboyswith no clothes on. And then in the pool, where everyone will be wet and slippery—
Oh no. Don’t go there, brain.
Do not go toward Bristol wet. Or slippery. Back away slowly and pretend you never heard the words.
“Do it, or I’m telling Mom and Dad when they get home,” Blake threatens.
I'd laugh at that if my brain weren’t in such turmoil. It’s such a childish phrase to come from a grown man. Never mind that it’s valid. Her parents would have a fit if they saw her in that get-up.
“Wyatt said we were going to a little kid’s birthday party.” Amy pokes back into the gathering group, holding a lollipop. “So I brought you this.” She hands Bristol a big sucker with a bow on top.
I never saidlittlekid’s party.
Bristol juts her chin and rolls her eyes in Amy’s direction.
“Whoa, Bristol,nicesuit.” One of Amy’s oglers from earlier comes to a skid on the wet concrete. “I mean, dayum, girl—”
“Shut up,” I growl.
He looks at me, eyes wide. “What’d I do?”
“You look hot,” another guy chimes in.
“Get your fucking eyes off her.” I sound like a jealous idiot.
