20. Rue
rue
. . .
infinite edge
The pool’s motion lights turn on as River hits the water, framing him in a blue glow as he sinks. His feet touch down, knees bending. Then he shoves off the bottom, powerful body arrowing upward.
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face if I wanted to. I’m too tickled by finally getting the revenge I’ve waited six years for.
River surfaces, mist exploding from his mouth and nose.
His bun came undone on impact, and his loose hair trails like spilled ink as he swims toward me.
I scuttle back a few steps, prepared to run if he launches out of the pool, but he merely braces his arms on the edge and looks up with a giant smile.
Something detonates in my chest.
“Well played, Ruin. I know you’ve waited a long time for that.”
“I’m surprised you remember.”
He chuckles. “Like I’d ever forget that beautiful day. You screamed like a banshee. And the way it cut off when you hit the water? Priceless.”
“Now that I think about it, I’m not sure this settles the score. You didn’t belly flop like you were supposed to.”
“My sincerest apologies. In addition to not screaming, I forgot to flail.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “Shut up.”
That shit-eating grin stays on his face as he pushes back from the wall. His arms move lazily, sending gentle ripples across the water.
“You should come in.”
“So you can dunk me at your leisure? No, thanks.”
“Chicken.”
I shrug. “Cluckity cluck.”
River forgets to kick and slips under. He comes up coughing and laughing so hard he can barely keep himself afloat.
I drift toward the water. “I’m not saving your ass if you drown.”
His laughter mellows… marginally.
“Tell that to your body.”
I glance down, frowning when I notice my toes curled over the edge and my legs bent. Ready to dive for him.
I straighten fast.
“Maybe I wanted a closer view of your demise.”
“Whatever you say, Princess.”
“Princess? Ew, no. I like that even less than Ruin.”
A roguish smile overtakes his face.
“River,” I growl.
“Too late. Princess.”
Before I can muster a threat, he’s underwater and moving in sure strokes toward the pool’s infinity edge.
He reaches the submerged shelf and sits. Water sloshes over the side, crashing into a catchment below. More trickles over as he drapes his arms along the narrow ledge.
The glowing waterline bisects his chest, everything beneath pale blue, everything above mapped by shadows and moonlight. His eyes flicker to me, then lift to the moon.
“You might want to jump.”
“What?”
“In three, two, one.”
Rippling water is the only warning before a gust off the ocean slams into me. My wet hair and bathing suit turn to ice. Shuddering, I wrap my arms around myself.
“Ocean’s always cold here. Alaskan current.”
“I know that, you ass.”
His soft laugh floats across the water.
I glance at the cabana, weighing my options. One is safe and familiar, an easy way out. But the other makes me feel like my veins run with moonlight.
“Water’s nice and warm.”
Fuck it.
The heated saltwater cocoons me like silk. Staying underwater, I swim toward River’s long, sculpted legs. Not that I study them or anything. They’re just a landmark, same as the swim trunks billowing over his thighs and the stacked ridges of his abdomen.
I come up for air a few feet away and maneuver onto the bench, then recline with a sigh.
“Does this mean you forgive me?”
His low voice plucks at the base of my spine. When I turn my head, there’s another, sharper pluck. He’s much closer than I thought, looking down at me with shadowed eyes.
Abruptly aware of being splayed out like a starfish under harsh pool lights, I straighten and draw up my knees. Not because I’m ashamed of my soft belly or the faint stretch marks on my thighs—because River’s stare makes me feel like I’m not even wearing a bathing suit.
“Forgive you for what? Pushing me into your parents’ pool?”
A faint smile curves his lips as he shakes his head. “You couldn’t pay me to regret that.”
I use annoyance as an excuse to face him, accidentally on purpose putting a few more inches between us as I rotate.
“For what, then? When you hid my phone for an entire weekend while I was waiting for a job offer? Or how about the time I tried to make pancakes for your family, and you switched the jars of flour and cornstarch?”
He grins. “That was a good one.”
"Supergluing my shoelaces? The water balloon fight on the Fourth of July when you got all the kids to gang up on me with buckets and the hose? Never buying me a Christmas present?”
He swipes a hand down his face, his shoulders shaking. I barely hold onto my stern expression.
“Need more examples? I have them.”
Laughing eyes lift to mine. “I actually mellowed in my twenties. Ivy and Olive had it a lot worse.”
“Oh, I know.”
“And to be fair, your so-called Christmas presents are reliably insulting.”
“I think you mean reliably brilliant. Besides, I only started that tradition after two years of trying to be nice and buying you thoughtful gifts. You put them back under the tree before you left for the airport.”
He sobers fast. “That was shitty of me. I’m sorry.”
My smile is saccharine. “I’ll forgive you… if you get me something this year. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, but there’d better be a card.”
“Deal.” His eyes scan mine, and his chest moves on a quick inhale. “There’s something else I—”
A feminine laugh and low male voices cut him off, drawing our attention across the pool as three figures emerge from the path between hedges. They move like a single organism with many limbs, pausing every few feet to grope each other.
I can’t see the woman, sandwiched as she is between two bigger bodies, but I think one of the men is Matteo. My suspicion is confirmed when I recognize his laugh. It stops abruptly, replaced by sloppy kissing sounds and moans. A masculine hand snakes around Matteo’s back and slips into his shorts.
My body temperature skyrockets. I’m hyperaware of River beside me. Breathing. Existing. Having arms and legs.
“Say something,” I hiss. “So they know we’re here.”
“Why? I guarantee they don’t care.” He pauses for a theatrical gasp. “Oh. Does this make you uncomfortable?”
I direct a withering glare his way and lie through my teeth.
“Not at all.”
His smile spreads with menacing slowness. “Then I wonder what’s turning your cheeks so pink. Is it the voyeurism? Or have you never played with two cocks before?”
My breath catches. The word cock has never sounded so appealing. Rough and masculine but elevated. Like jazz hands with calluses.
If my cheeks were pink before, now they’re crimson. I’m so hot my scalp itches. I wouldn’t be surprised if he told me my eyeballs were steaming.
“I take it back. You’re not forgiven and never will be. For anything.”
That wicked smile reaches dimple-level wattage. My brain misfires. For a few seconds, I can’t pull air into my lungs.
Then he winks. Winks.
And to my dismay, unlike 99.9 percent of men, he doesn’t look like a scumbag doing it.
I’m still processing that upsetting fact when he leans back and kicks his feet. The loud splash breaks the trio apart, giving me a clear view of three surprised faces—two of which make my jaw drop.
Warm breath skates across my cheek as River whispers, “Close your mouth.”
My teeth snap together.
Matteo recovers with an easy chuckle. “Hey, guys. Didn’t see you there. How’s it going?”
My laugh is several light years from natural. “Fine. Great. Nice night, right?”
River snorts.
“Oh my gosh, is that Rue?”
The excited, slurred voice belongs to Penelope of all people. She’s grinning and waving at me. With her eye makeup smeared, her hair a mess, and a nipple visible outside her twisted bikini top, she looks and sounds nothing like herself.
“How many personalities does this woman have?” I mutter from the side of my mouth.
“At least three,” River murmurs back.
Penelope rushes forward like she doesn’t see the pool. “It is you! I’m so happy you’re here.”
Wyatt darts after her, catching her before she walks off the edge. “Whoa there, sweet stuff.”
Penelope leans over his arm, stretching her hands. “Rue. Rueeee. I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool I think you are. You’re so cool and pretty and smart. You should come play with us.”
Matteo grins and shrugs. “More the merrier.”
“Cool with me,” adds Wyatt.
Struck mute, I swing my gaze to River and scream Help me! with my eyes.
He glares across the pool. “Fuck. Off.”
Matteo only laughs. “Message received. Feel free to enjoy the show.”
“I’d rather castrate myself,” River mutters. He faces me, his expression gentling. “Time to get out of here?”
“One hundred percent yes.”
We slip off the bench and swim for the pool ladder nearest the cabana. River’s strokes have twice the power of mine, and by the time I reach the ladder, he’s already out.
I’ve just grabbed the aluminum rails when Penelope releases a theatrical moan. I shouldn’t look. But I do.
Matteo and Penelope are making out—if you can even call it that. They look like they’re trying to swallow each other’s faces. Wyatt rocks against Penelope’s ass, his arm around her hip and a hand unquestionably between her legs.
“Move your butt, Princess.”
Jerking into motion, I quickly ascend the ladder. River stands a few feet away, scowling in the direction of the trio. At the grating sound of wood dragging over stone, I give myself permission to see what’s happening now.
Matteo is shoving two of the wide, padded loungers together and dropping their backrests.
As soon as they flatten, Wyatt lowers Penelope to the surface and slithers down her body.
Her spine arches as his head dives between her thighs.
Matteo falls to his knees beside her head and rips his shorts open.
I’m grateful for the shadows and bad angle when slurping sounds reach my ears. But I still can’t tear my eyes away.
“Earth to Rue.”
I flinch and cover my cheeks, peering at River over my fingers. “I’m not leering, I swear. I’ve just never seen anything like that.”
He smirks. “No orgies on the weekends for you?”
“God, no. That’s—no. One-willy woman right here.”
River chokes.
I freeze, then lower my hands.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You definitely said that.”
The pool lights have gone off, but the delight on his face is clear even in gray scale. His low, rumbling laughter reminds me of a cat purring—if the cat were a bipedal sadistic vampire.
Rhythmic grunting joins Penelope’s performative moans. River’s smile vanishes, his upper lip curling.
“Still fascinated?”
“Negative.”
“Great. Now that we have that settled, what I was trying to ask you—before the orgy detour—was if that’s your backpack.”
He points behind me.
I spin around and instantly spot a dark, familiar lump a few feet behind Matteo’s thrusting hips. Prickling panic races down my body. I can’t walk over there. No freaking way. But I also can’t leave without my bag. My laptop and phone are inside, not to mention my handwritten plot journal.
White spots dance across my vision.
Warmth encases the top of my head, and the pressure of gentle fingers urges me to turn around. Once I have, those fingers move beneath my wet hair and grip the nape of my neck.
I blink up at River.
“Breathe with me, Rue. In… and out.”
My gaze drops to his chest as it rises, then falls. Rises. Falls. My lungs instinctively mirror the rhythm, and while it does nothing for my heart rate, my mind quiets within a few cycles.
“There you go. Perfect. Just like that.”
The low words spark an entirely different type of buzzing in my body—a buzzing that intensifies as I watch a moonlit water droplet roll between his pecs and down his stomach.
“One more for me. In… and out. That’s my girl.”
As the droplet reaches the trail of dark hair leading into his shorts, his fingers lightly squeeze. Dazed, I lift my eyes to his face.
River sucks in a short breath, his features sharpening in a way that’s familiar and not. Before I can decide on an appropriate adjective, he releases me and takes a step back.
“Head to the cabana. Dry off, get warm. I’ll be there in a minute with your stuff. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
He nods and walks past me.