Chapter 1
Chapter One
JADE: THEN
I’m sweating, and it’s so obvious in my thin shirt that clings to me in this ridiculous heat.
I hate this—whoever decided pool parties are the way to celebrate being eighteen didn’t factor in bigger girls like me who don’t like to show their bodies.
You know what I mean—I’m usually the fat friend or the ‘funny one,’ so the thought of squeezing myself into a bathing suit, or god forbid, a bikini, is absolutely not going to happen.
Not now, not ever.
Even when I’m on vacation with my parents, I’m in a full-on oversized shirt or something.
Tanning?
What’s that?
The only color I go is tomato red, and that’s not sexy.
But I’m here because he asked me to be, and to be honest, I’d do anything for him.
Devon. Everyone calls him Dev, except me. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten, my entire fucking world.
“Jade!” His deep voice rumbles from the pool, and I cringe, knowing what he’s going to say.
Please don’t.
But he does, of course he does. Because he’s Devon, and he thinks the sun shines out of my ass.
My large, pale ass.
“Get in here!” He grins at me, and my heart swells in my chest. He’s so beautiful, honestly, I could just die.
His dirty blond hair is wet and slicked to his head, his dark lashes framing blue eyes I've compared to countless skies and oceans.
His body—Christ, his body—shimmers with pool water under the heat of the sun, tanning his olive skin and making him even more perfect.
I sigh.
Even his abs have abs.
“I’m good!” I yell back, feeling the heat climbing from my neck to my cheeks as everyone turns to look at me.
And no, I'm not exaggerating; they really do. There must be fifty people here at least, and over half of them are perfect girls. You know the type I mean: slim bodies and flawless good looks; they can eat anything and never gain weight. They don’t have a care in the world as they lean back, their slender legs dipping into the pool, their flat midriffs tanned and pierced with aqua gemstones and—okay, maybe that's just Mila.
Mila Harris.
God, I envy her so much.
Pretty doesn’t come close—her mother is Mexican, and her dad is an all-American blond—so she’s literally perfection with gorgeous skin that looks like the sun blessed her softly with a bronze glow that makes me want to throw up.
She has emerald-colored eyes—I’m not kidding, they almost glow, they're so light against her skin.
Did I mention her skin?
Then her lips—god, those plump little fuckers put mine to shame. Add in a tiny button nose and cascading chocolate brown hair that never goes frizzy, and you’ve got Mila Harris.
She’s looking at Devon now with amusement, her eyes tracking his gaze until they land on me. Then they narrow, her lips pursing in what looks a little—okay, a lot—like disgust.
My cheeks flame hotter, and I want to die.
Because not only does Mila look like that, but so do her friends, the bitches who hang on her every word.
Bella, Astrid, and Shaina. Even their names exude beauty.
Imagine three carbon copies of one another: shimmering blonde hair with matching highlights, big blue eyes, and—you guessed it—gorgeous tans. They’re wearing matching bikinis today, I notice. Neon green, orange, and red.
“Jade!” Devon lifts himself from the pool, his forearms straining as he climbs out, water dripping onto the ground when he stands. “I’ll throw you in if I have to.”
Panic claws at my throat as I shake my head, backing away.
“Yeah, come in, Jade!” Mila calls out, exchanging sniggers with Astrid but looking innocent when Devon turns to her with a grin.
“Shall I throw her in?”
He won’t—because—he’s my best friend and he knows how insecure I am, but the glee on Mila’s face makes me dizzy.
She would love that, wouldn’t she?
“I don't have a suit on underneath,” I hiss at Devon, his hands on my hips as I try to be assertive. “Don’t.”
Devon steps closer, and my hands raise, close to his chest.
God, I can’t be this close to him when he’s all wet and…
He grabs me, and I scream. It’s not girly or at all feminine; I sound like an orc in terror, to be honest. Devon chuckles and lowers his mouth to my ear.
“I won’t. But I wish you would come in.”
I shiver as his breath teases the fine strands of my hair, my hand moving to push it behind my ear before I step back.
“With Miss Perfect and the gang?” I huff a laugh and wave him off. “Go play.”
Devon throws his head back and laughs. “Play? This is my eighteenth birthday, babe.”
Babe.
I try not to fantasize again, as I always do when he speaks to me like this.
“I know. Just, be with your fans.” I try to wave him off again, but he catches my hand, holding it in both of his as my eyes widen.
What is he doing?!
“No one matters here but you,” he tells me, his eyes searching mine. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”
Why does he do this to me? My knees wobble when he says shit like this.
“You’re my best friend,” he continues, swinging his arm around my shoulders while still holding my hand with his other.
Fuck my life.
His touch sets my skin on fire when he idly strokes my shoulder.
“At least have a drink with me.”
He reaches into a bucket on one of the nearby tables and hands me a bottle of beer, clinking it with his.
“Locke! Get in here!” Troy, our other friend, yells from the pool.
Troy splashes Bella, and she squeals in delight, pretending to be pissed. Mila hasn’t taken her eyes away from Devon.
“Go,” I beg Devon, sipping my beer. “Please. They’re staring at me.”
I flush deeper, wishing I’d never come.
But then Devon leans over to me, tilting my chin so I’m looking up at him.
My heart hammers in my chest as he moves his gaze to my mouth and then says, “They’re staring at you because you’re the most beautiful girl here.”
My vision swims, and my breath leaves my body.
Mission aborted, my breath says. I can’t do this under these conditions.
And then he kisses me.