Chapter 15
fifteen
When I got to Rhys’s house the next day, he wasn’t the one who opened the front door for me.
His dad stood in the wide entryway, dressed in relaxed weekend clothes—a dark gray T-shirt that had seen a few washes and a pair of worn jeans—instead of the crisp, sterile surgical scrubs I’d seen him in the one other time I saw him.
“Ainsley.” He smiled, the expression instant and genuine as he stepped back to let me in without a second’s hesitation. “Come on in. Rhys is upstairs finishing a paper, but he shouldn’t be long. Unless he fell asleep at his desk, which is a fifty-percent possibility.”
I laughed softly and stepped inside, kicking off my flip-flops by the door. He closed the door behind me with a soft, heavy click that shut out the hum of the neighborhood outside.
“You want something to drink? I just made a fresh batch of iced tea, and if I don’t get someone else to drink it, I’m going to consume three gallons of sugar by myself.”
I grinned. “I’d love some, thank you.”
The kitchen was just as fancy as I remembered it from Thursday, a sprawling expanse of light oak cabinetry, polished quartz counters, and high-end stainless steel appliances that looked almost too pristine to belong to just two men, though there were tiny signs of actual life scattered around—a half-empty glass of water by the sink, a folded newspaper on the corner island, a set of car keys resting on a leather tray, and a stack of medical journals sitting beside a block of knives.
I settled onto one of the tall, leather-topped barstools at the central island while he pulled a heavy glass pitcher out of the fridge, pulling two tall glasses down from a cabinet.
“So,” he said, sliding a glass across the quartz counter toward me, the condensation immediately pooling around its base and leaving a slick ring on the stone. “Did he convince you to come over under the guise of a quiet afternoon, or did he already confess that Landon will be here too?”
I caught the glass before it slid too far, a small laugh slipping out before I could stop it. “He mentioned Landon was coming. He framed it as an act of public safety, actually—said if Landon was left unsupervised by the pool for too long, he’d try to backflip off the patio wall.”
Rhys’s dad groaned, though his eyes crinkled at the corners with deep, familiar fondness as he leaned his forearms against the opposite side of the counter.
“Last summer Landon tried to launch himself off the patio umbrella into the deep end because he convinced himself he had the trajectory worked out on paper. He missed the deep end by about two inches and took out a potted hydrangea. The plant never recovered.”
“Did Landon?”
“Landon broke a leg and then spent the next three weeks insisting it was a heroic sacrifice.” He shook his head, taking a slow sip from his own glass.
“Honestly, the two of them together are a full-time hazard. I used to think once Rhys got older, I’d worry less when I left them alone in the house.
Now I just worry about higher-value property damage. ”
He looked out the wide sunroom windows toward the backyard, then back at me, his expression softening into something quiet and thoughtful.
“It’s really nice having you here, Ainsley.
It’s obvious that Rhys really likes you.
And after everything with…” He trailed off and shook his head.
“Well, it’s just nice to see him with somebody new. ”
I knew what was he was getting at—everything that came when Kelcey cheated on Rhys with Justin. I could only imagine what must have felt like for him, seeing his new family immediately fall apart.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before the words could form, heavy footsteps came running down the stairs and Rhys appeared in the kitchen a moment later.
“There she is,” Rhys announced, stepping through the arched doorway in a pair of navy swim trunks and a faded gray T-shirt he was already pulling off over his head, his dirty blond hair a mess like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times.
His green eyes swept over the two of us with a look of mock suspicion.
“Dad, are you interrogating my girlfriend?”
“I am having a perfectly normal conversation with a very polite guest,” his dad replied smoothly, completely unbothered as he picked up his glass. “You’re the one who’s ten minutes late to your own pool party.”
“Some of us are trying to maintain a GPA. Unlike Landon, who I’m pretty sure has been floating in a circle outside for the last half hour losing brain cells in the sun.”
Rhys reached out as he passed my barstool, his fingers resting warm and heavy on the back of my shoulder for a brief, casual second—a gesture so natural and filled with unthinking habit that it felt entirely real. He gave a light tug on the fabric of my top.
“Come on,” he said. “Landon’s already out there being insufferable, and if I don’t get out there soon, he’s going to start trying to do trick shots into the deep end with my dad’s good patio chairs.”
His dad gave us a small wave, a look of amusement on his face as he turned back toward the fridge. “Go on. Take the iced tea with you before I drink the whole pitcher.”
Rhys led me toward the pantry, grabbing a couple bags of chips and pulling two cherry Coca-Colas from the fridge. He handed one of the drinks to me as we walked down to the patio doors just off the kitchen.
“For the journey,” he said.
“It’s twenty feet,” I pointed out, holding the icy can against my warm palm.
“It’s a perilous twenty feet when Landon’s waiting at the end of it.”
He pulled open the heavy glass door, letting the bright afternoon heat and the smell of chlorine wash over us.
It was the first time I’d ever stepped foot in his backyard, but I was unsurprised to find that it was huge—a wide expanse of pale stone pathways surrounding a deep, glittering pool that stretched toward a manicured lawn.
Sunlight bounced off the moving surface of the water, throwing ribbons of light across the white patio furniture and the dark wood of the pergola.
Landon was already in the deep end, suspended in a neon-yellow pool tube with his arms thrown back over the rubber, a pair of dark sunglasses perched on his nose. He swung his head toward us as I slid the glass door shut.
“Finally!” Landon announced, his voice carrying easily across the water. “I was five minutes away from talking to the squirrels, Rhys. You’re a terrible host.”
“I was busy,” Rhys said, tossing the bags of chips onto a glass-topped table under the umbrella. “And you love the squirrels. You tried to feed one a Cheerio last Tuesday.”
Landon used his feet to gently paddle himself toward the shallow steps. He turned his attention to me. “Ainsley, tell me you’re here to help me bully Rhys, because he’s been insufferable all week.”
“I can definitely help with that,” I said, dropping my canvas beach bag onto a lounge chair.
“Don’t encourage her, Landon,” Rhys said, stepping up beside me. He was already barefoot, his hair messy, looking entirely relaxed in a way I rarely saw at school. “She’s ruthless.”
“Excuse you, I’m a delight!”
I peeled off my jean shorts and oversized button-down, tossing them over the back of the chair. Underneath, I was wearing a simple dark green swimsuit I’d bought two summers ago—nothing fancy, just something I could actually swim in without worrying about straps slipping.
When I turned around, I found Rhys’ gaze already on me, his eyes taking in the emerald green of my bikini before dragging up to meet my eyes. Five heartbeats passed as we stared at each other. The muscles of this throat worked as he swallowed.
I drew in a breath, trying to compose myself as I walked toward the edge of the pool near the deep end, feeling the stone hot under my feet.
The air seemed to crackle between me and Rhys as I stepped up beside him, but instead of acknowledging any of that, I stared down at the blue water lapping at the edge of the pool. “Is it cold?”
“It’s perfect,” Landon said. “Get in.”
I took two fast steps and leaped off the edge, curling into a tight ball mid-air and hitting the water with a heavy splash.
The cold swallowed me whole, a shocking, glorious rush that washed away the lingering heat of the driveway and the heavy knot that had been sitting in my throat since breakfast. I let myself sink all the way to the blue-tiled bottom, opening my eyes underwater to see the shimmering yellow tube of Landon’s float and the dark silhouette of Rhys standing on the stone above.
When I broke the surface, slicking my hair back from my eyes and gasping for air, a huge wave of water caught Rhys directly across his broad chest and face.
He stood there at the edge, dripping wet, blinking back water with an expression of stunned betrayal.
Landon threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter that echoed off the high wooden fence.
“Ten out of ten!” Landon cheered, kicking his legs to splash water in the air. “Perfect execution! A direct hit!”
“That was unprovoked,” Rhys said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, though a dangerous, sharp little grin was already spreading across his mouth.
I wiped chlorine from my eyelashes and treaded water in the deep end. “Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there looking like a wet cat?”
“A wet cat?” Rhys repeated softly. He took a single step back, took a running leap, and hit the water two feet away from me.
A wall of blue water came down over my head.
I came up sputtering, laughing so hard I swallowed a mouthful of pool water, only to find Rhys breaking the surface right beside me, his hair plastered against his forehead, eyes bright and laughing.
“Still think I look like a wet cat?” he asked, wiping water from his jaw, standing on the shallow bench near the wall so he towered over me.
“Worse,” I wheezed, splashing him straight in the face with both hands. “Much worse!”