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“Feel like going for a dip?” I ask Jerome.
His gaze meets mine, his eyes hooded. “Damn straight. We doing this with or without clothes?”
I laugh and lean forward to touch his shoulder. “Let’s start with our clothes on.”
Without waiting for him, I scream, run, and jump into the pool.
He follows me, doing a cannonball into the deep end. The minute he surfaces, he swims over to me, but I escape his grasp, playing a game of keep away, garnering the attention of everyone on the deck.
Jerome grips my wrist and tugs me back into his body. I laugh as he raises me up over his shoulder before tossing me back in. I sputter a bit as I stand and pull my hair off my face. A couple of other people jump into the pool, fully clothed, to join the fun.
My eyes seek out Jimmy sitting in a lounger. Adelaide is sitting where Tripp was moments ago. Jealousy flares so deep, I swear if you cut me open, my blood would be green.
I have no right. I gave him his walking papers hours earlier at our sacred place.
* * *
Hours later,Jimmy and I have flipped spots. I’m on the pool deck, my clothes almost dry, and Jimmy is horsing around in the pool. He and of his friends are playing a drunk version of Marco Polo. Adelaide is with him. Of course she is. She hasn’t left his side all night.
I hate the way she looks at him.
It’s pitiful really.
He catches her because she purposely moved into a corner where she couldn’t escape. He wraps his hands around her and she laughs and squirms in his hold, loving every minute of it, I’m positive.
Bitch.
“Okay, Adelaide, you’re it!” one of the other guys calls.
“I’m gonna get myself a drink. Anyone else?” Jimmy asks, swimming over to the stairs.
No one takes him up on his offer. Adelaide stares at his bare chest and every other part of his body while he emerges from the water. He grabs a towel to dry off and talk to Tripp for a minute before heading inside.
I glance at the passed-out Jerome next to me.Lightweight.
I walk through the sliding glass doors, heading inside.
Jimmy’s not in the kitchen or the living room, so I walk down the hallway to his bedroom. He’s tossing the wet shorts over his glass shower wall.
Perfect.
I close the door behind me, securing the lock.
He turns around. “What are you doing?”
“Do you care about her?” I ask, pulling my shirt over my head and stepping in his direction.
His gaze darts to my black lace bra. “You know I don’t. Not like that.”
“How do you like her then?” I ask, slipping my skirt over my ass so it slides down my thighs and pools at my feet.
“As a friend.” He swallows hard, his eye scorching the closer I get.
I’m drunk on the power surging through my veins. For most of my life, I’ve been powerless. It’s only during times like this, when I can bend a man to my will using my body, that I have control over what happens.
I shrug, stepping out of my skirt. “We’re just friends.”
“We’ve never just been friends and you know it.”
