“Mum, seriously!”
She slides her reading glasses on and returns to the computer, re-focusing on her work.
“Don’t ignore me, Mum, it’s rude!”
Mum turns her head and peers at me over the top of her glasses. “No, Mackenzie, what’s rude is you. I’ve given you my answer and it’s final.” She goes back to her keyboard and begins tapping. “Why don’t you go swimming, hmm? It’s a lovely warm afternoon. Your father’s going to fire up the barbeque soon. We’ll eat outdoors tonight I think.”
With a frustrated growl, I snatch the letter and stalk back to my room, making sure my angry stomps are loud as I make my way up the stairs. I place the letter in the bottom of my underwear drawer and as the days and weeks, and then the months and years pass by, I never once get Jake Romero from my head.
Three years later…
I take a sip of my drink and relax against the recliner by the pool. God bless the first day of summer holidays. No homework or assignments—just an endless stretch of sunshine, barbeques, and only one brother to deal with. Jared is holidaying on the Gold Coast with a friend and their family, and Travis is at a go-karting camp—the very idea so lame I couldn’t even summon a laugh at his expense.
Drink in hand, I expel a deep sigh of pleasure and close my eyes behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses. After several minutes, I zone out in the heat of the day. Moments later a ball slaps me up the side of my face. I jump a mile in the air. Sticky cordial splashes down my front and stars dance in my vision. I raise a hand to my cheek, making sure it hasn’t imploded from the impact.
When I’m sure there’s no serious damage, I aim furious eyes at my brother where he’s playing volleyball in the pool with friends. “Goddammit, Stitch!”
I know he threw the ball. The savage hit is payback for plucking away at the threads in the backside of his school shorts. It took all day, but they finally split right down the seam when the afternoon bus arrived and he bent over to pick up his school bag. It was brilliant. I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. I can even say it’s worth a punch to the face with a volleyball.
Still. I can’t let this go. Setting my drink down, I grab the ball and stand. Stalking to the edge of the pool, I glare down at him bobbing in the sparkly blue water. His friends stare. Particularly Elijah Rossiter. I have teeny flourishing boobs and an itsy bitsy bright red bikini. The ensemble is enough to set my brother’s lips in a thin line as I stand by the edge, palming the weapon between both hands.
My eyes flick to my brother’s best friend. Eli is the son of Alan Rossiter, a big hairy deal in the policing world and one of Dad’s closest friends. He’s in the same grade as Mitch, and they’ve grown up together, forming a friendship that appears as unbreakable as iron. Eli is also hotter than the surface of the sun. His hair is blond with a slight curl, his skin tanned, and eyes a pale blue like the waters along the coast of the Great Barrier Reef. Dimples form as I spare him a glance. I’m not a particularly likeable person so his attention confounds me. Eli is eighteen and has the pick of any girl in school, yet that charm of his always seems directed on me.
My eyes warm and lips curve the briefest fraction in response to his grin. I simply cannot help it. He’s like hot chocolate on a wintery day.
Then my gaze turns to my eldest brother and my fiery glare reforms. Without any warning, I peg the volleyball hard at his face. I’m aiming for his nose but a noise from behind distracts me and sets the ball off course. It bounces off Mitch’s forehead.
“Nice aim,” quips a male voice from behind me—a voice I haven’t heard in three years.
“Not nice enough,” I snap, irritated because that particular voice sets my heart off like a bongo drum. Turning, I come face to face with Jake Romero himself and freeze on the spot. Those flat and empty eyes of his are a little harder now. The reed thin arms are filling out, and there’s muscle definition beneath the snug-fitting tee shirt that wasn’t there before. Heat pools in parts of my body where I’ve never felt heat before. It leaves me dizzy and uncomfortable and completely unprepared. “Back so soon, Romero?”
Jake shrugs, a cocky grin forming on his lips. “Couldn’t stay away, it seems.”
I arch a brow. “Maybe I can help you with that.”
“I’m sure you can.” His smile turns mocking as he takes in my wet, sticky bikini. “But seeing you get all wet is too much fun, Princess, so I think I’ll stay for a bit.”
I bristle. Princess? I was fully prepared to offer Jake an apology for my childish behaviour from years ago, but I bite it back. That old letter I wrote is still sitting in my drawer. My new plan is to tear it into little pieces because my original instincts about him had been spot-on. Jake is a total dick.
My eyes narrow behind my sunglasses. “Stay away from me.” I brush past him, muttering, “Party wrecker,” which is lame but it’s all I have.
“Nursing a grudge, I see.”
I halt and turn. My eyes track slowly down the length of him and back up again. The gesture is meant to mock but judging from the amused expression, Jake notices the goose bumps rising over my skin. “I can nurse anything I like. Last I checked this was my house. What are you doing in it?”
“What are you saying? You didn’t miss me?”
“Miss you?” I snort. “It’s lucky I even remember you.”
A loud splash comes from the pool. Both Mitch and Eli are hauling themselves out. They make their way toward us. Eli brushes wet curls from his face as they track pool water across the sandstone tiles.
“What’s going on?” Mitch asks when they reach us. Eli stands beside him, his brow in a slight furrow and hands on his hips.
“You remember Boy Wonder don’t you?” I say.
Eli’s brows soar. “Boy Wonder?”
A scowl spreads across Jake’s face, creating creases along his forehead that only serve to heighten his appeal. “My name is Jake.”
“Romero,” Mitch says, holding out a hand. “I do remember you.”
Jake takes a step forward and shakes it. It has his shoulder brushing against mine. The move feels deliberate.
Eli holds out a hand next, a friendly smile forming across his face. “Elijah.” He looks between the two of us as Jake shakes it, his eyes sharp with curiosity. “You’re a friend of Mac’s?”
“No,” I answer at the same time Jake says, “Yes.”
An awkward pause follows.
“Well, this reunion has been super fun,” I say brightly, “but I have some reclining by the pool to do. If you’ll all excuse me.”
“Actually you don’t.”
I pause. Jake’s declaration has everyone’s brows rising in question, including my own.