Girl Crush(28)

“I can tell by the confused look on your face, you’re not sure.” She giggled. “This is why you don’t explore sexuality at forty, Gizzy.”

“I’m not forty, whore.” Obviously, Ronnie wasn’t going to concede on the ugliness of the female erogenous zone. “Are you guys ready?”

A few lesbian-wannabe jokes later, and several digs at my desire to learn to enjoy the same sex, we finally got in the car to head to Collier’s house.



*

One of the guys I’d met the day before, whose name I couldn’t remember, greeted us at the door. “Hey, Giselle.” He smiled warmly at me before noticing the two bombshells behind me. “Who are your friends?”

“Veronica and Trish.”

Before he could remind me of his name, or I had to admit I couldn’t remember it, Beck came bounding into the foyer in nothing other than a skimpy, string bikini. She would have done just as well to wear pasties and a pad, it would have provided more coverage.

“Giselle! You brought friends.” Beck was a ray of sunshine today. I could only assume it meant things were going well with Stella. She stopped just in front of the guy, but close enough to lean in for a friendly side kiss on the cheek.

With the introductions completed—thankfully Beck introduced Mark—we made our way out back. There was music playing through the speakers, the outdoor kitchen had a chef working in front of it, and people mingled around the edge with drinks. I felt sorry for the hired help manning the grill in a full chef get-up including the funny folded hat thing—it was a hundred degrees out here.

Veronica whispered into my ear, “Which one is he?”

But before I could respond, Beck piped up to answer for me. “Look who I found, West.”

Collier had been standing at the edge of the pool with his back facing us, but the moment he turned around, his eyes connected with mine and held that connection intently. He never so much as glanced at Ronnie or Trish. The right side of his mouth inched up in a half-smile, but just as he went to speak, one of the other guys tackled him and took them both into the water.

“Oh shit, where the hell did he come from?” Trish seemed as surprised as I was by the unexpected assault. I only hoped it didn’t send Collier from West to Brutus.

Both sprung up through the water. West shook his head, laughing and coughing at the same time. “Fuck, dude. This was a fresh beer.”

“It’s shit now. That was for earlier, asshole.”

They both climbed out smiling, and my shoulders relaxed. I wasn’t interested in a drama-filled Sunday afternoon. I much preferred drinks and sunshine in skimpy swimsuits.

“Hey, ladies. Welcome. I’m West.” Casually, his wet hand reached out to my hip as though we were tight, and with his other, he shook my friends’ hands and then pointed out the grill providing an endless supply of food being made to order and the bartender making drinks under a gazebo. There had been names thrown out to match the men in our vicinity, but while I’d picked up Mark, Parker, Bryson, Todd, and Andrew, I didn’t have a clue who anyone other than the first two were. All I could think was this is stupid rich, and the heat from his hand was branding my side.

“Nice pad you got here, Collier.” Veronica was feeling him out—she needed to know who he was at the core.

“I’ve been very fortunate and had some lucky breaks, but thank you.” He finally stopped touching me, but the joke was on me. I’d misread the encounter and his embrace. He clapped his hands together.

Bastard. Now I seemed like a liar. There was no way in hell she’d ever believe he’d been a jackass to me if he kept up this charade. I met her gaze behind his back and stuck my tongue out at her.

“Five, Gizzy. Seriously.” Her constant reference to my immaturity never stopped. All she had to say was the number, and I knew exactly what she meant—so did anyone else who’d ever spent more than ten minutes in our presence.

“Huh?” Collier seemed confused by her comment. “What’s gizzy?” The way his brow quirked and his minty-green eyes warmed almost caught my attention.

“Not what, who. Giselle. Gizzy. She got the nickname—”

I poked my best friend in the side with way more force than necessary to shut her up. “Hey, West. Where can we drop our stuff?” Gizzy wasn’t exactly a name you wanted shouted from the rooftops, and no one who hadn’t known me during puberty should ever hear the story of how it started.

“You guys can use the same room you stayed in if you need to change. Otherwise, just drop your stuff on a chair and grab a drink.” He’d meant the words for everyone, but he’d directed them at me. And waited.

In seconds, I broke the awkward tension and left his side to pick a spot next to Beck and Stella, then introduced everyone, and started to shed my outer layer to soak up some sun.

“He’s into you,” Veronica said loudly enough for everyone within a ten-foot radius to hear.

“Oh my God, stop.” I put my sunglasses on, closed my eyes, and leaned back in the lounge chair. I refused to allow myself to consider the way he touched me or the heavy way the air lingered when he was near me.

“You know I don’t get involved in this kind of stuff, Giselle, but I have to admit he’s scoping you pretty hardcore. His eyes have stayed on you since we walked in.” A little laugh had escaped Trish’s mouth before she added, “Well, once he got out of the pool.”