Undressed Page 9

  Zane grinned, leaning close in a hush-hush kind of way. “To be honest, she kind of terrifies me. I’ve never seen a girl wrap Lucas around her finger the way your friend has.”

  I laughed. “You must be the roommate.”

  “Guilty,” he admitted, while his thumb stroked across the back of my hand. He held my gaze like he was trying to hypnotize me, and I wondered if I shouldn’t clue him in that I was only in this for Emerson’s sake. His seduction moves—while not half bad—were being wasted on the wrong girl. I was here for other reasons.

  I lifted a brow. “About that beer . . .”

  “Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

  We waded through a sea of bodies until we reached the bar. I made it a point not to search out Will, even though I knew he was there because there was a cluster of girls converged at the same end of the bar he’d been working the other night. He obviously had his own fan club.

  But even without trying, I caught a glimpse of his irresistible smile between the sea of bobbing blonde heads, and my stomach clenched just the tiniest amount.

  Crystian, the pretty dark-haired bartender spotted us and gave me a nod. “Hey, Body Shot! What can I get ya?”

  “Corona,” I answered, pretending I didn’t just feel Will’s eyes shoot my way from his end of the bar.

  From behind me, Zane’s hand landed just above my hip.

  “Make it two!” Zane called out to the girl behind the counter as he dropped the money for both our drinks on the countertop.

  My cheeks burned as I recalled the last time I’d been here, at this very bar—on this very bar—with Will’s lips roving over my skin.

  Whatever humiliation I felt, I needed to get over it. I needed to make peace with Will if my plan was going to work.

  Taking a breath and forcing my gaze upward, I glanced Will’s way. But he wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. I watched him work for several seconds, trying to figure out why I was so confused by him. Everything about him exuded confidence and magnetism, and every girl here wanted a piece of him. But he also projected an aloofness, an air of indifference that made it clear he didn’t let anyone get too close.

  I’d recognized it right away, maybe because I understood it. It was exactly how I’d always felt—never wanting to let anyone in. It was the same thing that made me think he was a jackass that first night when I’d demanded my keys and he’d all but ignored me.

  I guess that was the thing, part of the appeal. Most girls wanted what they couldn’t have.

  But there was that other side to him, too. The side I’d seen at the pool, when Gracie had been too afraid to come down off the step. A tenderness I doubted he showed here at The Dunes . . . at least not all that often, and definitely not on purpose.

  He looked up then, and his green eyes locked on mine. I didn’t want to blink or breathe, and all I could think was, I know you’re in there. And when he didn’t look away I thought maybe, just maybe, he was letting me know I was right.

  Then Zane was there, his breath too hot against my ear. “Ready?”

  Will’s jaw clenched and his shoulders stiffened, but even that quick flash of emotion only lasted a second before the other Will—the indifferent one—was back. He spent extra time on his next customer, a leggy brunette who leaned all the way over the bar, practically spilling out of her dress.

  Like I was one to judge.

  When she ran the tip of her acrylic nail across his forearm, along the veins that bulged over his muscles, he shot one more look my way, and I wondered if he meant for me to notice.

  “Ready,” I told Zane, and reached for his hand again, and this time it was me dragging him through the crowd as I downed my Corona and hauled him toward the dance floor.

  Three shots and who knew how many beers later, the floor was wobbly beneath my feet. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost track of Emerson, or she’d lost track of me, and now I was alone with Zane. He did his best to pull me away from the dance floor so he could get me someplace quiet—and presumably dark—so we could “talk.” But I kept shooting him down. I needed to keep moving to stop the world from spinning.

  “One more song,” I insisted. “This one’s my fav’rite.”

  “I thought the last one was your favorite.” He laughed when he said it and let me drag him between the crush of dancers.

  He gave me the most indecent smile, which I knew was meant to convey the promise of things to come. The night wouldn’t end the way he wanted, but I didn’t have the heart to stop him when he wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed himself to me, partly because at least his grip steadied me. We danced for almost a full minute like that, with his hips grinding against mine, while my alcohol-infused brain tried to keep up with the song even though I was positive we were way off beat.

  “You’re beautiful!” he practically shouted above the music. Then he leaned close, his mouth against my ear. He mumbled something I couldn’t understand and then his tongue flicked over my earlobe.

  My stomach churned and I rolled my head away from his clumsy attempt to seduce me. I tried my best to laugh it off. “All right, I think we’re done here.”

  He ignored my protest and his grip on my waist tightened. Immediately, my head cleared. It was time to put the brakes on, before he got the wrong idea about how this night would end.

  “My turn.” An unfriendly voice interrupted us, and I flinched when I heard it, bumping Zane’s chin with my forehead.

  Zane grinned at me—an I-got-this grin—before he informed the guy, “I don’t think so, pal. We’re a little busy here . . .”

  But he never finished what he was saying because suddenly he was being jerked away from me. I swayed, confused. Glancing up, I found Will’s eyes boring into me, his hand firmly clamped on Zane’s shoulder while he scowled at me.

  “I wasn’t asking,” Will told Zane, his jaw tense. His hard eyes never looked away from mine. “Either you walk away now or I’ll have you bounced.” He tipped his head toward the entrance, to where the enormous bouncer was watching the scene as it unfolded on the dance floor.

  Zane’s startled expression moved from Will to me. His eyes widened as it dawned on him that this wasn’t just about a guy getting handsy on the dance floor—this was personal. Zane frowned. “You okay with this?” he asked me, obviously caught somewhere between disappointment and humiliation.

  I glanced up at Will, who raised his eyebrows, waiting for my response. I shot him a warning look, but it was Zane I answered, “I’ll be fine.”

  Zane didn’t look thrilled by my decision. He slunk off the dance floor just as the music changed. The new song was slower—not slow, but slower—and Will reached for me, pulling me into his arms a lot like Zane had.

  But unlike with Zane, I wanted Will’s arms around me. I liked that he’d come after me. I liked that Will was my savior, even if I hadn’t exactly been drowning this time.

  It was almost unnatural how warm he was. How everyplace our bodies connected, which was almost everywhere, that heat came off him and radiated directly into me. Through me. I strained to be closer to that. To breathe him in, his heat and his scent, which was an intoxicating combination of soap and beer and sea and sweat.

  The floor was swaying again, but this time it had nothing to do with the booze.

  Will’s hands were around my waist, but they weren’t demanding the way Zane’s had been. “You don’t seem to have trouble making friends.” His words rumbled against my ear, and even his voice made me unsteady.

  I looked up and found his gaze. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  He grinned down at me. “I guess that depends on the friends.” He wasn’t at all subtle. I got the message. Zane wasn’t the kind of friend he wanted me to have.

  I let my eyes wander to my arms, which were draped around his neck. His brown waves tickled the backs of my hands, and I wondered what it would be like to tangle my fingers in his hair and caress those silken strands. “What about you?” I asked, turn
ing my attention back to him again. It was hard to concentrate and I couldn’t decide if that was because I was still tipsy, or because I was so close to Will. “Are you my friend?”

  Will’s face fell, his eyes going suddenly distant. “I don’t know what we are. I don’t really do friends.”

  I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest. “That’s funny, I didn’t ask you to do me.”

  His eyes snapped back to mine and he studied me for second, and then he dropped his chin on the top of my head and laughed. It was maybe the first time I felt like I’d gotten the upper hand since we met. His grip on my waist tightened. “You’re something else.” And then he whispered against my ear, “He was right, you know? You really are beautiful.”

  My face, all the way down to my neck, could have burst into flames that very moment. I don’t know why it was entirely different—or maybe I did. It was different hearing those words coming from Will’s lips. “He only said that because my rack looks so good in this dress.” I dared a quick glance up.

  Will was watching me, a wicked grin finding his lips. “I’m not saying he’s wrong, but that’s not what I meant. I meant you—you’re beautiful.”

  I lowered my lids but kept my eyes on him. “And distracting?” I challenged.

  “Yes,” he growled, leaning in. “And distracting.”

  “Is that why you cut in? Because you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

  Will stopped moving, but his gaze turned hard. “No. I cut in because your date couldn’t keep his goddamned hands to himself. And because I saw the way you were squirming, and I figured you could use a hand.” He was angry, there was no mistaking it—his grip had turned rigid. “You really need to be careful. Not all guys got the memo that no means no, especially after a few drinks.”

  I could feel myself bristling against his warning, even though I knew he was right. “Zane’s harmless,” I defended.

  “You don’t know that. You hardly know the guy.”

  “I can take care of myself.” I pulled out of his grip, and he didn’t try to stop me the way Zane had. I didn’t need a lecture, especially not from Will who not only might have a girlfriend, but also made it clear we might not even be friends. Maybe I’d made a mistake coming here.

  I turned and pushed my way through the crowd. I could feel Will right behind me. “I’ve done all right so far,” I shot over my shoulder. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  I passed the table where Zane was sitting and he shot to his feet hopefully. But I ignored him and kept walking.

  Before I could escape, Will caught my arm and pulled me to a stop. “Okay, look. I’m sure you’re right. Zane’s probably . . . charming.” The word dripped with sarcasm, and I crossed my arms petulantly, averting my gaze from his. “I shouldn’t have chased your boyfriend away.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Stop it. You know that’s not what he is.”

  He grinned, that smug expression of his firmly back in place. “Good. I’m glad you see things my way. Can we stop fighting now?”

  Several girls eyed Will, and I wondered whether I should take my opportunity to make my strange request . . . before I lost his attention to someone else.

  “Fine. On one condition.”

  “I’m listening . . .” His grin grew as he crossed his arms over his muscular chest, making us look like we were in a standoff, and I wondered exactly what he thought I was planning to propose.

  I crooked my index finger toward him, and he leaned closer so no one could hear what I had to say. “I know you said you couldn’t, but I need you to teach me to swim. No kids this time, and no one else can know about it,” I said, stating my demands. “I want private lessons.”

  He reached for a strand of my hair and twisted it around his finger. The glint in his eyes made it clear he was toying with me. “And if I agree . . . what’s in it for me?”

  Tugging away so my hair fell from his fingers, I reached into my purse and pulled out the envelope. When I handed it to him, he regarded me with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.

  I indicated the envelope in his hand. “Cash,” I said somberly. “There’s a thousand dollars in that envelope.” He jerked back, the playful gleam becoming wary.

  “Jesus, Brown Eyes, is this some kind of joke?” He tried to pass the envelope back to me. “I don’t want your money.”

  Frowning, I shook my head and refused to take it. “I’m serious. I need your help. This is . . . embarrassing for me, and I don’t know a lot of people here. You’re an expert. Plus, you already give lessons . . .” I looked at him thoughtfully. “I suppose I could ask Zane to teach me.”

  His eyes narrowed as he seemed to be deciding whether he believed I would actually ask Zane for help. Then he reluctantly pocketed the cash. “Fine,” he muttered. “You win. Meet me at the pool tomorrow. After hours.” And when he realized I might not know what “after hours” was, he added, “Eight o’clock.” He shoved his hand and the money in his jeans pocket. “We’ll only have the pool for an hour, so try not to be late.”

  And then he turned and stormed back toward the bar just as I heard Emerson’s voice behind me, and I wondered how long she’d been standing there. “Who pissed in his snowflakes?”

  I spun around to face her. “Corn,” I said absently, looking past her to where Zane and Lucas were talking, probably about how Will had all but dragged me off the dance floor.

  “What?” Em asked, dragging my attention away from them just as Zane caught my eye.

  “Cornflakes. It’s ‘who pissed in his Cornflakes?’” I grinned at her, avoiding her answer with a question of my own. “You know what sounds good right now? A Denny’s Grand Slam. We should get outta here and get something to eat. Whaddaya say?”

  She draped her arm around me just as Lucas and Zane joined us, and I realized we weren’t ditching them just yet. But a booth at Denny’s was a far safer place than a dance floor at The Dunes.

  And tomorrow, Will would teach me how to swim.

  LAUREN

  I wasn’t a second late for my lesson. I didn’t want to jeopardize the tentative truce Will and I had struck the night before.

  Still, I was surprised to hear myself breathe, “You’re here . . .” when I found him waiting for me as I stepped out of the locker room. I guess part of me had been convinced I’d imagined the whole thing—some sort of drunken hallucination.

  He gave me a stupid grin. “Deal’s a deal, right?”

  My palms were sweaty and my mouth grew parched as I neared the pool. It was fear, I told myself. But I was less than convinced as I realize I was concentrating more on Will than the water.

  The hour-long lesson went by in a blur. I tried not to be disappointed that Will was all business. He kept a polite, but professional distance. Had I expected that last night had changed everything between us? That he would take more of a hands-on approach?

  Maybe I just wanted more of the “hands-on” part.

  I let my eyes wander over the muscles of his chest, and had to swallow back a moan. Oh yeah, I definitely wanted his hands on me.

  I still had no clue what his deal was.

  Will was a mystery. One minute he was flirtatious and banter-y, the next he was acting like a complete jackhole to the girl who may or may not still be his girlfriend. And then, just when I thought I’d seen enough, he went and took on the role of sweet and considerate swim coach.

  Today? Well, today he was . . .

  Too far away, that’s what he was.

  “Good. Now let’s see you try that again,” he told me from the other end of the pool, the only place he seemed to be. “Only this time, try not sinking.” His eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Ha, ha,” I said drily. “I suppose you were born knowing how to swim.” I replayed the instructions he’d given me: Head back, chest high, hips up, legs straight.

  “I was, actually.” The water rippled, but I was concentrating on what I was doing. I took a deep breath and leaned backward. “My mom says I swam before I walked.”


  I laughed, and my entire body folded as I started to go under. Again. “Your mom sounds like a liar.”

  Will’s voice enveloped me like a caress. “Focus on what you’re doing,” he told me. “But you’re right. She totally was.” He was closer now, no longer all the way across the pool, and knowing that made it even harder to pay attention.

  Head back.

  I inhaled and tried again.

  Chest high.

  I sank backward and let the water cradle me.

  Hips up.

  I tried to remember to breathe.

  Legs straight.

  “Now, relax.” Will’s voice was right above me, but instead of startling me, it made me feel more secure. Will was here. Even if I did sink again, he would catch me.

  Not to mention the part where I was only in four feet of water—I could probably catch myself.

  But that didn’t happen. I buoyed like that for several seconds . . . then a minute. I was light. Weightless.

  It was amazing.

  His voice held me again, like an anchor, keeping me in place. “Brown Eyes?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Open your eyes.”

  I smiled to myself. “I thought they were.”

  When I opened them, he was beaming down at me. “You did it.”

  I let my shoulders collapse. The water closed in around me right before I stood up.

  That was the feeling I’d been waiting for my whole life—not just the sensation of floating—really floating—but the sense of accomplishment. I couldn’t hold back my grin. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Hell, yeah, you did. We should go celebrate.”

  Our celebration consisted of stale beer and quite possibly the best pizza I’d ever tasted in my entire life.

  “Told ya,” Will bragged as I peeled my third piece from the silver disc. “You could go coast to coast and never have another slice like this.” We’d ordered the Supreme on the Chicago-style crust. The toppings were so thick I should probably be eating it with a fork, but it was pizza, so all decorum had flown out the window.