Love Song(42)
“Wyatt.”
I jolt out of it. Shit. It’s the weed. Weed makes some people lethargic, but it has the opposite effect on me. I get horny when I’m stoned.
“Are you doing the boathouse jump with us?”
“What do you mean us?” I say with a snort. “We both know you’re not making that jump.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Logan. Have you forgotten I’ve known you your entire life? You can’t even step onto a second-floor balcony without panicking.”
It’s no secret that Blake inherited her mother’s fear of heights. She and Aunt Grace were the ones holding everyone’s purses and packs whenever we went to theme parks as kids. One time, I suggested Grace ride a roller coaster with me, and she asked if I was on drugs.
“It’s not that high,” Blake objects, but her wary blue eyes shift toward the boathouse. Her friends are already on the roof, surveying the water below.
“Logan!” Annaliese shouts. “Come on!”
Fortitude hardens Blake’s expression as she refocuses it on me. “Stop getting in my head,” she chides.
“I didn’t get in your head. I simply reminded you of your phobia.”
“It’s not a phobia. And I go up on that roof all the time. It doesn’t count as a height.”
“I’ve never seen you get within six feet of the edge.”
“I stand at the edge all the time.”
I lift a brow. “Really?”
“Well, near the edge,” she amends. “Ugh. Oh my God. Whatever. Get out of my head!”
With an outraged noise, she shoves her feet into her flip-flops and stalks off. I watch in amusement as she ascends the wooden staircase on the side of the boathouse to join her new friends. Then I get distracted by the way the sun gleams off her hair. The light brown appears almost blond in this light.
Blake approaches the edge of the roof. Her steps are extra careful, as if she’s afraid she might forget how to walk and accidentally topple off the boathouse. I don’t mean to laugh, but a chuckle slips out. It’s impossible for her to have heard it from this far away, yet her head swivels my way. I don’t miss the flash of misery on her face before she glares at me.
I take another sip of beer and give her a little wave.
She peers over the edge for a moment, then turns to exchange a few words with Annaliese. I swallow my laughter as I watch Blake stride back to the stairs and stomp down them.
“Everything okay?” I call out with an innocent smile.
She stops to scowl at me. “Someone needs to be in the water to judge who jumps the farthest.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
I’m still grinning as she marches to the end of the pier and dives into the lake.
Chapter 12
BLAKE
ANNALIESE AND THE BOYS STAY well into the night. When it gets colder, we move the party from the dock to the great room, where we play drunk charades and a game of “never have I ever” that devolves so fast that Annaliese and I immediately say we’re done. Her friends are horndogs. Coming from the enchanting Kuri, it’s not that bad, but the other two are very broey. Every time Clay says something flirtatious, it just sounds gross. And Preston reminds me too much of Isaac. He has his red hair and the same bulky build.
Speaking of my ex, he just texted, determined to stand his ground on the escalating Hot Boi situation.
THE CHEATER
Just buy a new one. I don’t see the big fucking deal.
I want the one I already bought.
THE CHEATER
Like it was even your money. Daddy bought it for his princess.
The accusation has me fuming. Low blow. I could easily buy a new toaster, but that’s not the point.
“I still can’t believe you broke up with an NFL player,” Annaliese remarks as she watches me rage text my ex.
“Maybe he’ll get cut in training camp,” I say hopefully.
“With that monster rookie contract they gave him? No way.” Clay drops his empty bottle on the coffee table and gets to his feet. “Need another beer.”
On the other end of the couch, Preston rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t get why you ended it. All professional athletes cheat.”
Annaliese stares at him in shock. “That doesn’t make it okay, Pres.”
“Just saying, it’s part of the lifestyle. You think all their wives and girlfriends aren’t aware of it? They just turn the other cheek because they want their flashy diamonds and their cars and mansions.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want any of that,” I retort. “I want someone who doesn’t cheat on me.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised you were even interested in being part of that lifestyle,” Annaliese tells me, sounding bemused. “You don’t seem like the type who enjoys the spotlight.”
“I mean, I don’t love it,” I admit. “But I was never really in the spotlight with Isaac. I don’t think that would’ve changed once he started in the NFL.” I offer a little shrug. “I was his plus-one. The woman behind the man. Nobody ever paid much attention to me when I was with him…” I trail off, suddenly disturbed by my own words.
But it’s true, I realize. I was Isaac’s arm candy, for lack of a better word. The cute, unassuming sorority girl he could bring to events, who looked good in a dress and could chat with the other girlfriends but never hog his spotlight.