Chapter Sixteen
“You are going to burn your feet.” Grayson says pointedly when he notices Serena left her shoes by the back door as we make our way down to beach.
“I will not!” Serena insists, glaring at Grayson with the intensity of a thousand suns.
“You will,” he persists. When she doesn’t respond he continues, “It’s July. You honestly think the sand isn’t going to burn those pretty little toes of yours?”
“You think I have pretty toes?” Serena grins at her fresh pedicure.
He ignores her rhetorical question, rolling his eyes before turning to Wyhtt and I. As if either of us would be able to convince her to listen. “It’s mid-morning, there’s no shade—only bright scorching sun. Her feet are going to fall off from third degree burns unless she can magically jump fifty feet down to where the tide is going out.” Which for some reason is where he deems it safe enough for her to stand without any footwear.
“You’re overreacting, Grayson. If it’s that hot, I’ll just run,” she responds in a flat tone. “I used to live here once upon a time, you know.” As if the fact alone somehow makes her feet not feel pain while running on lava.
“How are you so stubborn that you can’t admit the sand is hot?” Grayson asks, exasperated. Before she can reply, Wyhtt joins the debate. I listen as the three of them argue until we reach the end of the steps, with Wyhtt’s last words being something about how Serena and Grayson sound like siblings.
Grayson glares at both of them, but that doesn’t deter either from continuing to sling verbal assaults in his direction.
“Aw,” she croons. “He is just trying to protect his sissy’s piggy toes.” She giggles, patronizing him. Moments later, Serena takes a step onto the scolding hot sand, yelps, and takes a step backward onto the bottom step of the porch.
“Told you,” Grayson mutters before smugly walking past her, taking exaggerated steps on the sand to prove his point. Wyhtt snickers and starts following him down the beach to set up the umbrella, cooler, and a tote bag with towels and whatever games they brought to keep us entertained for the day.
Serena—glaring after the guys—turns her withering stare on me. I throw my hands up in mock surrender as she starts to stomp back up the three flights of stairs after her shoes. Before she gets a step past me, I grab her hips and throw her over my shoulder. You’d think she’d appreciate the gesture, but no.
She scratches my back as if she’s a damn stray cat being touched by a human for the first time, all the while yelling at me to ‘put her down,’ and at the boys to ‘help her’ as we pass them on the beach. I’m sure the laughter coming from the two of them only enrages her more.
“Put me down, now,” Serena demands. I don’t speak as I carry her closer to the water’s edge. Realizing what I’m about to do, she starts kicking in an attempt to loosen my hold on her. I continue to walk into the ocean until the murky water is breaking at my knees before throwing her in headfirst.
The guys’ booming laughter echoes from behind me as they slowly approach from where they set up the umbrella. A couple seconds pass before she comes up from the water, gasping for a breath just as another wave crashes into her, which sends her tumbling over again. Once she finally finds her balance, the look she gives me says I would have been better off allowing her to be bratty and retrieve her sandals. This, however, is more fun.
Not breaking eye contact with me, she peels off the now drenched cover up, revealing possibly the skimpiest swimsuit she could have found. Wyhtt and Grayson stand beside me, admiring the view as well. Not that I could blame them—she is stunning—but part of me wants to rip their eyes out and shove them down their throats with the way they are eye-fucking her.
She hasn’t even noticed their blank stares since her eyes are still locked on mine. Her glare looks as if she’s debating on laughing now or stabbing me with a knife later, I crack a grin. “Are you done being such a brat this morning?”
She responds by rolling her eyes and fixing the bikini top that barely holds her breasts in place. She knows exactly where my attention has gone.
“Eyes up here boys,” she says to the three of us, while still looking at me.
Before any of us can respond, she dives back under the water to fix her hair before walking to the chair Grayson set under the umbrella. She proceeds to grab a towel and drag the chair back down to the water’s edge, sinking into it as if she owns it. After wringing her hair out a bit more, she relaxes into the beach chair—ready to bathe in the baking sun and ignoring all three of us.
Grayson doesn’t even bother arguing, knowing it would be a waste of his time. He simply kicks water up at her, steals the towel she had rolled up and put under her head, and then walks back up to the umbrella to sprawl out on the towel. Wyhtt lays on the sand directly beside her chair and snickers about Grayson losing to a girl he barely knows.
And me? I wonder how she has all three of us wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers so quickly.
I mean, I know why I am, I even understand Wyhtt. The three of us grew up together. Seeing Grayson treat her as a little sister so soon after meeting her is unexpected. It’s not unwelcome, just not expected. Even though he surely finds her beautiful like all men do, he doesn’t look at her like he’s conspiring how to get her in bed. His actions are more protective—as if he’s annoyed at the way she dressed in front of us—on the beach or not. I have a feeling their weird sibling rivalry isn’t over just yet, which should lead to an interesting day.