They exchange a nervous look.
“Do you want to get to know us?” Blondie asks, darting a look at his friend and shaking on his seat. He grins, seeming to get a kick out of his suggestive remarks.
I walk closer. “Is that what your mother taught you? To call people names? Does it make you feel brave? Or powerful?”
“Oh hey, now, ginger. Don’t get your tits in a twist. If you don’t want a piece of this,” he waves down his body. “Go on now. Run along to your freak boyfriend.”
I force my lips into a smirk and raise my brows. “At least I have a boyfriend. What about you, Blondie? Do you have a girlfriend? Or are you just frustrated because at the end of the day, you jerk off to some imaginary girlfriend?”
His nostrils flare and he shoots up from his seat. His friend grabs his hand, pulling him back.
I turn and walk away, feeling triumphant. I reach my chair and grab the towel, then wrap it around myself. I don’t know what is more exhausting: defending myself and my scars or walking away.
I stretch my body out on the chair and close my eyes. A cool hand wraps around my knee and my eyes flip open, meeting Cole’s. His eyebrows dipped in a worried look.
“Are you okay?” He signs.
I force my lips into a smile and nod. He doesn’t seem convinced. He glances around the pool then brings those beautiful eyes, framed with long spiky lashes to me.
“Are you sure? I saw you talking to those dickheads.”
“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle. Come sit with me.”
He sighs, grabs a towel to dry himself then lays it on his chair and sits down. He takes my hand in his hand and links our fingers together, brushing his thumb on the back of mine. Cole is so good to me it’s overwhelming sometimes, in a good way.
Don’t blow this up, Nor.
I’m already doing that because I’m keeping things from him.
I pull my hand from his. “I’ll be right back,” I sign, standing and grabbing the towel from the chair.
I dart around a few chairs, heading for the changing rooms. Before I reach the entrance, a hand wraps around my wrist, spinning me around. I’m breathing hard, fighting hard not to cry.
He drops my hand. “You are shivering. What’s wrong?”
“You guys okay?” Josh jogs toward us out of nowhere.
Cole starts to pace in obvious frustration while signing fluidly and fast. I can’t make out some of the words. A few seconds into their conversation, Josh looks at me. He opens his mouth to say something but stops and drags his fingers through his hair.
“He’s asking why you ran away.” Josh darts a look at Cole. “It’s hard for him to speak when he’s frustrated.”
I rub my hands down my arms, suddenly feeling cold. “I wasn’t running away. I just needed to use the bathroom.” My voice shakes a little.
I turn around but Cole grabs my wrist again and cages me between the wall behind me and his body. My head hits his chin and I can hardly see anything beyond his broad shoulders.
“Wow, he’s got it bad for you.” Josh chuckles from somewhere behind Cole. Then he appears in my line of vision. “I’ve seen that look before. It means you’re not going anywhere until he gets some answers.”
I glare at him. Instead of being even slightly intimidated by my I will take you down look, he chuckles again gleefully. “What? This is the best entertainment I’ve had in weeks. I’ve never seen my baby brother go all He-Man over a girl.”
Cole signs again, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What did those jerks say to you?” asks Josh.
I sigh, my gaze wandering to Blondie and his friend. His focus is on us, watching intently. I can’t tell him what grease face over there said. After the scene in the pool earlier on, he doesn’t need more provocation to set off his fuse.
“Sometimes it’s hard to see people looking at my scars and know they’re judging me.”
I feel Cole’s gaze move from mine and figure he is focused on Josh for translation. He tucks his thumb under my chin and tilts it up. I lift my eyes to his.
“He’s not judging you,” Josh says softly.
“I know.” I blink hard to chase away the tears threatening to spill and try to wiggle from his hold, but he increases the pressure, making me raise up on my tiptoes to escape his touch in self-preservation. God, this is torture. My cheeks and body heat up. Our thighs are touching, skin on skin. “I’m just being silly. Maybe we should just leave.”
Cole’s hands circle my waist, sliding up to the sides of my breasts and end up framing my face.
Josh makes a gagging sound and says, “I’m out. I don’t need to see you two going all soft porn.”
I chuckle, a sound caught between a choked cry and a laugh.