The Girl Next Door
Chapter 18

Summer before junior year of college...

I throw on a bikini before pulling a cover-up over my head. For the last few days, the temperatures have been soaring in the nineties. It's sweltering out, and I'm tired of being cooped up in the air conditioning. If I don't get out of this house, I'll go batshit crazy. Since the Hollingsworth family is away on a two-week European vacation, I'm going over to take a dip. Caroline is always telling me to feel free and stop by any time I want. Since I'm usually operating in avoidance mode, I never do. But Beck has been conspicuously absent this summer, so I assume he's on vacay with his parents. Or maybe at football camp. I have no idea.

I try not to think about him.

With Dad at a business dinner and Mom playing Bunco with a group of neighborhood friends, I'm a lone, lonely, loner for the night. The house is quiet as a tomb. Sometimes it feels like it's always been like this, but that's not the case. Before Brianna died, light, happiness, and laughter had filled our home. No matter how much I want to change it, there doesn't seem to be anything I can do. Mom and Dad drift through their lives on autopilot. Dad works at least eighty hours a week, and Mom fills her time with retail therapy. I didn't realize how lonely of an existence it had become until I went away to college and lived in the dorms. It took a while to get used to the constant commotion. Now, when I return home for breaks, I'm reminded of the loss all over again.

I shove those depressing thoughts from my head and grab a towel from the bathroom before heading next door. The moment I step outside, the hot air hits me like a wave. Even at nine o'clock at night, it feels like a sauna with the temperatures hovering in the upper eighties.

Unable to wait, I hasten my step. It's not until I walk through the black-iron gate that surrounds the Hollingsworth pool that my step falters, and I realize the critical error that has been made.

Beck isn't at school or on vacation with his parents.

He's here. Swimming.

Silently I watch as he pushes off the far end of the pool, arrowing gracefully through the water. My mouth dries as I track his movements. I hate the attraction that leaps to life inside me whenever I catch sight of him. It's like a living, breathing entity. I've tried so hard to stomp it out, to deny its existence, but it refuses to be eradicated.

Luckily, Beck hasn't caught sight of me. There's still time to backtrack before he's ever the wiser. Beck surfaces at the midway point of the pool before rising to his feet. As he straightens, he shakes the water from his dark hair. It scatters around him, and the muscles in my belly contract as a burst of arousal explodes in my core.

Every time.

It's like this every damn time I see him.

I hate it.

Even more, I hate that he's the only one capable of making me feel this way.

His eyelids lift as his attention fastens on me. It's like he knew I was watching him.

Which is impossible...

But that's exactly how it feels.

A slow smirk curves his lips. It's like a punch to my gut.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again." There's a pause. "Seems like you've been avoiding me."

He doesn't realize how right he is.

Or maybe he does.

The way his gaze rakes over my body is like a physical caress. One that leaves me restless and fidgeting beneath the heaviness of it. Even though I'm wearing a cover-up that reaches mid-thigh, Beck has the rare ability to make me feel like I'm standing before him naked. It's disconcerting and serves as a reminder as to how dangerous this guy can be.

Toxic, really.

I won't try to fool myself into believing that Beck isn't my Kryptonite. I spent years trying to do that. There's no point.

"You're looking good, Mia."

His deep tone sends a fresh wave of nerves cascading over my bare flesh.

When I fail to respond, he continues. "How's your summer going?"

"It's good." My gaze stays locked on him. It's like I can't look away.

Why does he have to be so damn hot?

Twenty-one-year-old Beck blows eighteen-year-old Beck clear out of the water. It's like they're not even the same guy. Everything about him is bigger, broader, more finely sculpted. It's doubtful I could wrap both hands around one bicep. "Have you been playing a lot of tennis?"

I'm definitely starting to salivate.

Did he ask me a question?

It takes a moment for my mind to play mental catch-up. I clear my throat as my eyes skitter away. "A bit."

When he chuckles, my attention returns to him. The sound strums something inside me.

His teeth flash in the darkness. "Dad tells me you've been interning at the office."

My head bobs in relief at the innocuous conversation. "Yup, I've been working full-time."

"I'm sure that's been keeping you out of trouble."

I snort as my muscles lose their rigidity. "I've never been known for my antics like some people."

A slow-moving grin overtakes his face. An answering ribbon of attraction curls in the pit of my belly. Nope. Not even gonna go there. This seems like the perfect time to take off.

I point to the gate. "I'm going to-"

"Leave?" He pops a brow. "So soon? Didn't you come here to swim?"

I shake my head.

"Really? Aren't you wearing a suit?" There's a pause. "And isn't that a towel in your hand?"

I glance at the fluffy material I'm holding and frown.

Damnit. Caught red-handed.

"That's all right." I swat my hand and take a tentative step toward freedom. "You're obviously enjoying some alone time, and I wouldn't want to disturb that."

Beck stretches his arms out in front of him. His muscles ripple with the arcing movement as his fingertips skim the surface of the water. "There's enough room for both of us, don't you think?" Unfortunately, the pool is big enough for the Olympic swim team. So, yeah...there is.

He knows I don't want to be alone with him. Can't he let me slink away without calling me out on it?

"No worries," I wave a hand, "another time."

"Damn girl," he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, "do I frighten you that much?"

Abso-f*****g-lutely.

"Don't be ridiculous!" I bristle and straighten to my full height. "Why would you say that?"

Challenge sparks to life in his eyes. "Because you avoid me like I've got a contagious disease."

"For all I know, you do."

"Nope. Totally clean." He gives me a wink. "I always wrap it up tight."

Ugh. "Gross."

"So prove it."

"Excuse me?"

"Prove that you're not afraid to be alone with me," he continues.

I force out a laugh even though my mouth has turned cottony. "I don't have to prove anything to you."

"You're right." He nods. "Then prove it to yourself."

I gnaw my lower lip. If I'm not careful, it'll be a bloody mess in a matter of minutes. I glance at the gate, tempted to walk away without another word.

"Come on, Stanbury," Beck cajoles, his voice turning silky. Too many panties to count have fallen around ankles from just such a tone. "You came here to swim, so do it. I wasn't planning to stay much longer. Then you'll have the pool to yourself. Isn't that why you came over? To cool off?" Yes, it is. But Beck wasn't part of the deal.

I stare wistfully at the water from the cement patio. It looks so inviting. It's crystal clear and sparkling. Already beads of sweat are rolling down my back, and I just stepped outside. I've been looking forward to this all day.

It's not like I owe Beck an explanation.

And I certainly don't have anything to prove to him.

But...

Maybe he's right about needing to prove it to myself. If I can swim with him and nothing happens, then I can stop going to such great lengths to avoid him. Avoiding Beck at home and on campus is exhausting. It takes a ton of energy to constantly be on guard. By his own admittance, he isn't planning to stick around for very long. There's no reason we can't swim together for ten or fifteen minutes without me ending up wrapped around him and sucking face.

So what am I concerned about?

"Fine." The word slips from my mouth before I can stop it.

When his lips bow up at the corners, I have to tamp down the nerves that flutter around in my belly like a million butterflies.

Why do I feel like I've fallen into a well-laid trap?

Like a deer in headlights, I stand frozen, waiting for Beck to get back to swimming laps, but he doesn't move. Instead, he continues to watch me. I lower my gaze, needing to break eye contact. Even though I'm not looking at him, the heat of his stare crawls over my covered body.

It takes a moment to gather my courage and shed the cover-up shielding me from view. With his attention focused solely on me, it feels like I'm putting on a striptease which couldn't be further from the truth. Nerves skitter along my spine as my fingers grasp the hem. With a shaky breath, I yank it over my head in one fluid motion before tossing it to the plush lounger. It takes eight steps to reach the edge of the pool and dive headfirst into the water.

As soon as I'm submerged in the cool liquid, all the anxiety swirling through me vanishes. This feels just as amazing as I imagined it would. It's a refreshing slice of heaven. My body hums with pleasure. If I had allowed Beck to chase me away, I wouldn't be enjoying this now.

All I have to do is keep my distance.

How difficult can that be?