Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 52663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
While my dad launches into his favorite story—how he bought this house—I watch Emily, trying to read the undercurrent between her and her mom.
“You’re the Family Values guy,” Emily says suddenly. “From the Family Over Everything podcast.”
“Shhh,” Heather blushes. “He doesn’t like to talk about that.”
Bullshit.
“I don’t mind.” He beams. “Are you a fan?”
“I’ve seen a few clips,” she says, polite but neutral. “You’ve published a lot.”
“I’ll show you my library later,” he says. “There’s a new release I’ve been teasing. Going to be a surprise drop later this season. It’s about—”
I tune out.
If his followers knew half the shit he’s pulled behind the scenes, they’d drop him overnight.
“There’s a big beach fest this weekend,” Taylor says as dessert lands. “Bonfires, music, a ridiculous pie-eating contest. You should come with me.”
“I’m not really into parties…”
“Oh, come on. You’ll love it.” Taylor leans closer to me. “Cole, tell her how much fun it is.”
I meet Emily’s gaze for the first time all night.
“I think you’d have more fun staying home.”
Taylor groans. “Ignore him. All the hottest guys will be there. Maybe even some celebs. The vibes are unreal.”
“Can I go?” Heather asks.
Taylor wrinkles her nose. “It’s not really for the… older crowd. No offense.”
Heather laughs like it’s cute. It’s not.
I check the timer on my phone. Four minutes left.
When I glance back, Emily’s staring at me—like she wants to say something but won’t.
“Thank you for dinner, Mr. Dawson.” Taylor rises, linking her arm with Emily’s. “Since Cole’s going to keep being rude, let’s go test out your new heated pool.”
Emily shoots her mom a look. Her mom mouths, A new friend. Go.
She stands, and that’s when I notice.
She’s changed.
The jeans she had on earlier are gone. Now it’s tiny white shorts that cling to her thighs like they were painted on. They peek out beneath a loose, flowy blue shirt—but they’re barely there.
“You’re welcome to join us, Cole,” Taylor says, lowering her voice as she passes. “I’ll skinny dip just for you…”
“I’m good,” I say without moving. “Thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” She tugs Emily along like a prize.
My dad rises with Heather and claps me on the shoulder.
“Thanks for coming down, Cole. I appreciate it.”
I nod, eyes locked on Emily’s disappearing legs.
I stay seated. Because the sight of those shorts just made my cock stiff—and there’s no way I’m standing up right now.
This is going to be a long-ass summer.
6
EMILY
The following night
I’m confused as to why Taylor is still here.
She spent the night in the guest room after we swam, took up my entire day by showing me around town, and now… we’re back in the pool.
It’s almost like she lives here whenever she wants, and no one else cares to tell her otherwise.
“I’m inviting your new besties over to join us,” she says. “You’re going to love them, and they’ll love you.”
Right. “I need to work on writing at some point today.”
“What college do you go to?”
“I start at Pitt in the fall.”
“And they already are asking you to do work?” She scoffs. “That’s B.S.”
I bite my tongue before I can explain. I’ve learned in our short time together that she’s not a good listener—but she’s not trying to be rude. She just lives in her own orbit.
“AHHHH!” “Taylorrr!” “I brought beer!”
Her three friends step out onto the concrete like they’re on a catwalk—each of them in a different neon bikini, sleek topknot buns glinting under the pool lights. They’re not clones, not exactly, but they talk and move like girls who’ve been growing up in each other’s shadows their whole lives.
“This is our new friend, Emily,” Taylor announces. “She’s the daughter of Mr. Aidan’s fiancée.”
“Nice to meet you,” they say in unison. Then, like rehearsed roll call:
“I’m Sarah.”
“I’m Ashley.”
“I’m Ashley, too, but you can call me Ash-leigh so we don’t get confused.”
“Nice to meet you all,” I say, stuck on the word fiancée. “My mom’s not his fiancée, though…”
“Where’s Cole?” one of the Ashleys asks, immediately glancing toward the house. “He’s really living here?”
“He is.” Taylor nods, cracking a beer. “Hopefully he’ll come to his senses and join us.”
“He’s so fucking hot.”
“Sooo hot.”
“What are you wearing to the beach fest?”
“Something cute.”
“Me too.”
“Let me see.”
“Let me see, too.”
I lean back against the jets and let their conversation swirl around me like warm chlorine fog. They’re harmless. Loud, shallow, silly. But this is their world—a safe, glossy bubble of outfits and weekend plans and someone’s cousin Clive in L.A. who once dated a B-lister.
Eventually, I slip out of the pool and wrap myself in a towel.
“I’m going to shower and head to bed,” I say. “It was nice meeting you all.”
“I swear her Hermès bag was fake,” Sarah says, flipping her hair. “The clasp was completely off.”
“But Clive bought her that Prada one last year, remember?” Ashley says. “So maybe this one’s real, too.”