Page 89 of Bitter Lies

Smiling hesitantly, I nod and hold out my hand. “Halsey.”

“David, nice to meet you. We’re just about to go out in the water. You want to come?”

“Sure,” I say, reminding myself to be casual.

He’s cute and built with pretty dark eyes and blond hair. I presume he’s on the football team, although I haven’t seen him at any of the parties, but that’s not hard since they’re always packed so full of people.

Following him to the water, I drop my shorts and fight off a blush when he smirks at me, dropping his gaze down my form with appreciation before licking his lips and saying, “C’mon.”

Handing me an inner tube, he helps me inside and gives my ass a good squeeze, if I’m not mistaken. With a wry smile, I slip over and lay my head against the warm tube, basking in the rays.

David plops into his own tube and floats beside me before mayhem erupts, and his friends surround us.

“Yo, pass the ball, Jackson,” someone shouts, and soon a football is being passed between the boys.

Quietly, I watch the antics, amused by their game as they flail around to catch the ball and end up in the water more often than not. David looks at me occasionally and smiles when he meets my eyes, to which I return the gesture.

Although I’m not sure about anything beyond a bit of light flirting, I’m enjoying the normalcy of hanging out with a cute boy while he plays with his friends.

Until Griffin appears in a floatie of his own and gives me a smirk, his gleaming chest beckoning me like water in the desert. I will my eyes away, but it takes a severe amount of self-control.

I can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but I swear my skin tingles where his gaze lands. Fighting the urge to cover my breasts, my nipples already tight little beads, I drop into the water and emerge within the tube, effectively hiding just how badly I want the fucker to touch me.

Still, he seems to know because his wicked smirk turns downright devilish, as he says, “See something you like?”

My stomach clenches at the vicious reminder, but I ignore the pulse of hurt, because how could I expect anything less? “You must be confused. I’m in love with Jason, remember? Besides, I prefer to have sex with someone who doesn’t view me as a cheap fuck.”

Raising a brow, he drops his tone to a husky growl. “Oh sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve lied and told you what you wanted if that’s what you need.”

Giving him my own smirk, I say, “No worries. I’ve found I’m not interested anymore.”

His brows pull low over his eyes, and he chuffs, but I don’t wait around for a response, swimming away and toward the shore, because where Griffin is, I don’t need to be, for more reasons than one.

“Hey, Halsey, where you going?” David calls out with a grin.

Turning back with a smile, I say, “Just inside.”

“Oh cool, I’ll come with you,” he says, and Griffin’s head swings between us rapidly.

With a small smile and a little thrill, I wait until he joins me on the shore, and we walk away together. When I glance back, because I can’t help myself, I find Griffin’s head turned in our direction and a fierce scowl on his face.

Once inside, David helps himself to a drink, and I pass, knowing I should keep my shit together, even if I long for the taste of oblivion in this fucked-up mess.

Wandering over to a room off the kitchen, I find a media space filled with old-school board games on a shelf in the corner, an entertainment system complete with the newest video game systems, and a pool table against the far wall.

I’m running my fingers over the felt of the table when David asks, “You play pool?”

I’m fighting back memories of Griffin teaching me to play, which is why my shrug is half-hearted. “I used to.

He would sit with me for hours in the game room back at his home, set up specifically for fancy billiards, and patiently teach me the angles and trajectory, even going so far as to explain the geometry of it like a complete nerd.

I loved every second, not only because it was fun but because it was him, and by the time that summer was over, I could kick his ass half the time. But much like everything else, I never played again because the memories were too painful.

Now, I’m resolved to create new memories, and tentatively, I ask my admirer, “You wanna play?”

“Cool,” he says, racking up the balls with a playful smile. “I’m pretty good at this. You sure you can handle it?”

Mentally rubbing my hands together, I return his grin with my own. “How about a little wager?”

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