Prologue #2
Twenty minutes later, we pull into the dirt parking lot at the lake. The place is crowded with cars, ranging from luxury sports cars—like the one my parents bought my sister for her seventeenth birthday—to banged-up beaters with red tape covering the taillights and wire holding the trunks shut.
“Oh, good. Tosh and Clarissa are already here,” Sam says, nodding toward Clarissa’s car.
I look out the window at the people milling about.
A group of rough-looking guys are standing around a group of motorcycles on the other end of the parking lot.
I notice them the same instant my sister does.
Seems Tosh and Clarissa have as well. I watch them saunter over to the guys with their hips swaying in the barely there swimsuit cover-ups they have over what I’m sure are tiny bikinis.
“Oh, hell no,” my sister mumbles as she opens her door. “Those bitches better not.”
It’s a fairly well-known fact that my sister and her friends have a not-so-friendly rivalry when it comes to boys. Sam absolutely detests what she considers any attention being taken from her, especially if she’s “staked her claim.”
“Do you know those guys?” I ask, getting out of the car and walking over to her.
“Yup. And Clarissa knows I called dibs on the guy in the middle.”
Looking over to where Tosh and Clarissa have posted up next to the bikes, I spot the man in the center.
He towers over the other guys with a wide, if not slightly devious, smile spread across his mouth.
He tilts his head to the side to listen to what one of his friends is saying.
The booming laugh that explodes from him is so loud that I hear it all the way to where we’re standing.
“Who is that?” I ask as my sister bends over and checks her lipstick in the side-view mirror.
I can’t take my eyes from the tall guy with a laugh that makes me smile.
He runs a hand through his dark hair as he greets the girls my sister is friends with.
I can see from here that he has black gauges in his ears and a few tattoos scattered across his thick arms—which are on full display in the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing.
That devil-may-care grin that I’ve only seen the bad boys in movies wear is spread wide across his face.
“Barrett O’Neil. He graduated two years ago. We met him a couple weeks ago, and those two-faced bitches have been drooling over him ever since.” Sam straightens and tosses her blonde hair back. “Let’s go.”
Sam’s entire demeanor changes from irritated to confident flirt in the time it takes to walk to the group.
“Hi, girls.” My sister greets her friends with a shark-tooth smile that says she is not happy with them.
The girls see her and instantly take a step back from the guy she’s apparently here to see.
She turns her attention to Barrett and lifts her sunglasses, shooting him a coquettish half smile. “Hey, Barrett.”
He directs a sizzling grin at my sister, his gaze trailing from her nearly see-through tank and bright bikini top underneath down to her short denim skirt, then back up to her face.
“Hey, Sami,” he drawls out in obvious appreciation.
“Glad you could make it.” His eyes travel to me, and though his smile remains, it’s not nearly as flirtatious as the one he was wearing for my sister. “Who’s this?”
Samantha shrugs and looks at me dismissively before turning back to Barrett. “Just my little sister. I’m stuck watching her today.”
Guess we’re back to me being an inconvenience. I should’ve known. As soon as we get around her friends, Sam generally treats me as a burden rather than a sister. It still sends a pang of hurt through my chest, though, knowing I fell for it again.
One of Barrett’s friends sidles up next to me. “Little sister have a name?”
“Yup,” I reply, irritation coursing through me.
“You gonna share?” he asks with a half smile as he looks me over much in the same way Barrett blatantly checked out my sister.
My arms cross over my chest, and I lift my chin. “Nope.”
“Don’t be a bitch, Camryn,” my sister admonishes.
I give her an exaggerated eye roll and hold out my hand. “Keys, please.” My tone is anything but polite. I’m so damn mad at myself for thinking that maybe this time we could have a fun day together instead of her treating me like shit when everyone else is around.
“You aren’t driving my car,” Sam says with an incredulous laugh that implies I’m ridiculous for even considering it. I haven’t gotten my license yet, so I wouldn’t attempt it, but it would serve her right if I left her stranded here.
“I’m going to get my book, find a nice tree to sit under, and let you have a lovely afternoon with your”—my eyes trail over Barrett, but it’s not the flirtatious or even remotely kind smile my sister gave him—“friends.”
“God, you can be so stuck up,” Sam mumbles as she grabs the keys from her back pocket and tosses them to me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry that you’re under the impression that I give a shit what you think of me. I’ll need to do better about that,” I reply.
Barrett lets out a low whistle, and my sister’s friends try to laugh it off.
“Your sister has some bite there, Sami. She’s like a rabid puppy,” Barrett jokes.
“Fuck off, asshole,” I tell him, and he laughs.
There’s something about the dismissive chuckle that grates on my nerves and gets under my skin—which is completely stupid considering I hardly know this guy.
And if my sister’s history with boys is any indication, I won’t have the displeasure of seeing him again in the future.
Barrett hooks his arm around Samantha’s shoulders. “Go get your little book, pup, and let us have some fun.”
“Thank you so much for your permission. That’s exactly what I was waiting for,” I say. “Try not to catch anything that’s going to take a round of antibiotics to clear up with these degenerates,” I tell her before turning on my heel and heading back to the car.
So much for sisterly bonding.