Bad Things(57)

I’d stuffed my bikini into my purse, but I glanced at his hands as we made our way past closely parked cars to the huge building at the center of the property. “Do you have a suit?”

He grinned. “Already wearing it, under my jeans.”

“You had this all planned out,” I observed.

“I had my hopes.”

The place was packed, and the setup reminded me of a frat party more than anything, which surprised me, considering that it was held at the biggest mansion I’d ever seen.

People were walking around in swimsuits, holding red plastic cups. I was instantly more at ease. My first impression of the place had been intimidating, but I could deal with plastic cups and a pool party, no matter the swanky location. Still, it was hard to even get through a room, there were so many people.

“How will you find anyone in this crush?” I asked Jared, having to lean into him and speak directly into his ear to be heard.

He shrugged. “Let’s get to the pool. We’ll either see them or we won’t.”

It took some searching, but Jared found me an empty room to change. Luckily, my small outfit fit into my purse. I was just debating about where to stash it when Jared opened the door a crack, peeking his head in. “Want to stash your purse in my trunk? We can just go around the house to get to the pool, so we won’t have to swim through the crowd twice.”

“Good idea,” I said, following him.

He snagged my hand as he navigated us back through the crush of people.

Tristan held my hand all the time, but for some reason I felt like I shouldn’t let Jared do it. I didn’t protest, though, telling myself I was being silly.

We stashed my purse in his trunk, making our way toward the back of the house by way of a paved path.

I was surprised when Jared stopped us at the side of the house, pulling me into a darkened alcove. He pulled me close, and I didn’t protest, closing my eyes and tilting my head back.

I let him kiss me, shivering as he ran light fingers along my bare back. He was a good kisser, his lips soft on mine. He wasn’t forceful at all, just cajoling, and I found myself thinking about how Tristan’s kiss had been, how it had demanded more from me that I’d known I wanted to give, and how I’d wanted to give more than I could afford to. Even thinking about another man the whole time, though, I could see that Jared knew what he was doing.

Still, it felt wrong, and I found myself quickly regretting it. This was Tristan’s brother, and as much as I wished that I didn’t, I had feelings for Tristan, and this was wrong. It was a nice kiss, but that was all. Just nice was nothing like what I felt for Tristan, which meant that the kiss, as meaningless as it was, was giving the wrong impression. I couldn’t date Jared. It was naive of me to even have considered it.

I pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” I told him quietly. “We shouldn’t.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “This isn’t a date. Still, I had to try.”

I rolled my eyes, less worried about leading him on after that statement.

“That came out wrong. What I meant was…I like you, a lot. I think about you way too often, and I’d like to spend more time with you. I won’t try that again, not until you want me to.”

I sighed, hating what I had to admit, but knowing that it was the only fair thing to do. “I don’t think we can ever date, Jared. Tristan and I are just friends, that was the truth, but I do have feelings for him, which makes this wrong.”

Even in the dim light, I could see his mouth tighten, and his brows draw together, but he nodded. “Okay. Okay, I understand.”

“Please don’t tell Tristan that I said that. He doesn’t know.”

“Of course.”

We suffered through a long, awkward silence before he spoke again. “Do you still want to swim?”

“Yes. If you do.”

“Yeah. I still want to be friends. All of the stuff with Tristan doesn’t change that. We’re friends, right?”

I smiled, which drew a small smile from him. “Yes, we’re friends.”





CHAPTER NINETEEN





The backyard of the mansion was just as impressive as the front, and the pool was colossal. But it wasn’t our first destination.

We fell into the line that led to the margarita bar. I was ready for one, after that awkward conversation.

“I’m so sorry—”, I said.