Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(16)

He sighed, wondering what time it was and assuming it was around twelve. Fuck, but today was crawling by when all he wanted was for eight o’clock to get here sooner so he could clap eyes on the little mermaid again and confirm that she was as cute in person as she’d been in his dreams last night.

The sound of rustling interrupted his pleasant thoughts, and suddenly Hillary’s voice was close to his ear. “You’re leadin’ her on, Erik.”

“Who?” The little mermaid?

“Van. That’s who.”

He leaned up on one elbow, squinting to look up at his little sister’s face. Hillary was sitting on the edge of Pete’s abandoned lounger, a black floppy hat shielding her pale skin from the sun as she stared down at him with pursed lips.

“Never in a million,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Van and me aren’t like that.”

“My butt. Even if you’re not, she is.” She put her sunglasses back on and swung her feet, up, leaning back with a sigh. “You’re in hot water, and you don’t even feel the burn.”

Erik shook his head, which made it ache all the more, souring his precarious mood. “We’ve been friends forever, Hills. You’re makin’ up a situation where none exists.” He decided to hit her a little below the belt in an effort to get her to shut up. “Like you did on New Year’s, actin’ like some li’l ole kiss with Pete meant somethin’ more than it did.”

She gasped lightly beside him, then hid it by clearing her throat. “Low blow.”

He loved his sister and heard the pain in her voice, which made him feel instant remorse. “Sorry, sis. I’m an asshole.”

“And a dumbass if you don’t see what’s right under your nose.”

He settled himself back into the chair with a grunt of satisfaction, letting his forehead drop back onto the warm vinyl. “Why can’t you just let us be friends? Why does it have to be more?”

“Because it is more. To her. And you know it.”

“Even if that’s so—and I’m not sayin’ it is—it’s not my fault that I don’t feel the same. We can’t always get what we want, no matter how hard we want it.” His voice was gentle when he added. “You know that better’n anyone.”

“I guess I do,” she said, all the sass gone from her tone now. “But I also know exactly how she’s thinkin’, Erik. I can see it all over her face. She’s thinkin’, If I just hang in there, one day, he’ll see me. And he’ll know what I’ve known all along: that we’re meant to be.”

The wistfulness in her voice made him cringe.

Hillary was talking about Pete when it was clear as day that Pete wasn’t interested in Hillary. Never had been. Pete wanted Van. And Erik respected that. Hell, in his mind, Van was Pete’s girl, whether she wanted to be or not.

Fuck, but this situation was all screwed up. How were they supposed to get through the whole summer together with Hills liking Pete, Pete liking Van, Van liking him, and him liking . . .

His thoughts of a strawberry-haired beauty were cut off by the sound of the slider opening and closing again.

“I only had Tylenol,” Vanessa called, her sandals thwacking on the pool deck. “Will that do?”

He leaned up to find her approaching with a red and white bottle in one hand and a glass of ice water in the other.

“You’re an angel of mercy,” he called.

Her eyes, deep blue and wide, softened instantly as she approached, and Erik looked away fast, Hillary’s warning fresh in his head.

“Told you,” his sister muttered under her breath from beside him, watching their interaction over the rims of her sunglasses.

Erik swung his body around and sat up on the edge of the chair as Vanessa sidled over. She gave him the glass and two tablets, which he swallowed quickly.

“Thanks, honey,” he said, blinking up at her.

“Anythin’ for you. You know that,” she answered, her tone heavy with unspoken meaning. Suddenly she smiled sweetly, reaching down beside her lounger for a bottle of sunscreen. “Get my back?”

He looked at the bottle, then up at Van.

“Pete!” he yelled, still holding her eyes so that his meaning was as clear as could be. “Can you give Van a hand with some suntan lotion? I think I’ll go inside and catch some zzz’s.”

Vanessa flinched, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment, but she plastered a smile on her frosty face as Pete leaped eagerly out of the hot tub and rounded the pool deck to be of service.

“Sure thing,” he said, reaching for the bottle with his beefy linebacker fingers as soon as he reached the chairs.

“I’ll catch y’all later, huh?” said Erik, standing up and heading for the house.

“Erik!”

He turned back to face Vanessa, who looked at him longingly.

“We’re all goin’ out together tonight, right?” she asked, sitting primly on the edge of the lounger as Pete squeezed some cream on his palms.

Erik shook his head as a sudden image of Laire Cornish made him feel the same sharp longing he saw in Vanessa’s eyes. Hillary was right. This situation was stickier than he’d noticed before today. Maybe he should stop hanging out with Van so much . . . and tonight was the perfect time to start.