Page 3 of Summer Nights

“What’s your name?” He asks, giving me a blinding smile that looks so ridiculously comfortable.

“Scarlett.”

I don’t miss for a second the way that not only him, but all of the other guys freeze. Maybe if I was sober, I’d be able to dissect their reaction to my name better but alas.

“Scarlett was just telling me she was going for a midnight dip.” Pike states helping to shake the guys out of their weird silence.

“I mean, what else is there to do on your eighteenth birthday?” I say with a chuckle.

“It's your birthday today?” One of the guy’s questions as he takes a step closer. His voice is familiar, and I realise it's the same guy that I heard answer Pike earlier.

Well, it's official. I’m screwed.

While Pike and the other guy’s features are stunning, they have a hardness about them.

This guy? His emotions are written all over his face, completely softening his expression. Whether he cares or not, he doesn’t show it. His features are soft but no less shy of a goddamn Greek god. His mousey brown hair looks like he has run his fingers through it a hundred times already today. His dark blue eyes search my face, like he is trying to find something in my expression. Trying to understand my innermost thoughts. Break through my walls and discover all my secrets.

It's always the pretty ones that are the most dangerous.

“Ah yeah.” I manage to choke out. Come on Betty, pull it together.

He just nods in reply, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly in an almost smile. I long to see a real one, knowing already it would melt me completely.

“My name's Dacre. That guy over there,” He says pointing at the guy with the scar in his eyebrow, “that’s Nicky and the goofy looking one is Sonny.” Said goofy one wacks Dacre across the head but shoots a flirty wink my way.

Yep, another gorgeous man. Is there a factory that is making them like this? Where can I get one? Or five…

Sonny oozes cockiness, something that from the small assessment of him I can tell entirely suits him. I’m not sure if it's in his stance or the look on his face that lets me know this man knows exactly what he’s working with and just how to use it. His eyes are heated as he checks me out without a care in the world. Bless him, because I currently look like a drowned rat. That doesn’t seem to change the look in his eye though.

His sleeves are rolled up and I can’t help but admire the coloured tattoos scattered on his olive skin. His black hair is kept neat and slicked back. Even though it's short, I notice the ends have started to curl slightly making me wonder just how curly it would be if it was longer.

Dacre points at the guy standing just behind him, “And this is Dawson.”

I can’t help but notice the similarities between Dawson and Nicky. Their features are very similar, the only difference is their hair. While Nicky is a brunette, Dawson’s hair is pitch black.

I point at both of the guys, “Brothers?” I question.

Both of them nod. “Yeah, Irish twins actually.” The word twins sends a stabbing pain through me but I quickly attempt to shove back in the corner of my mind. I had hoped the alcohol would have numbed the pain today, but I guess not. Now is definitely not the time to have a breakdown about that mess right now. While Betty is normally firmly in place when I get to this stage of pissed, I don’t want her slipping and letting me turn at the mention of the word twins. I still can’t help the fact that every time I hear that word muttered, the pain at the loss of my own twin runs rampant through me. It takes everything I am in me to steel myself against that pain though. I don’t need to scare these poor guys off anymore than I’m sure I already have.

“Where did you just go?” Pike asks, his hands rubbing my thigh gently.

“Ah nowhere.” I sober quickly. “So, you guys obviously aren’t from around here?” I prompt, attempting to divert the direction of the conversation.

The guys all begin to sit around us. Pike doesn’t move me from between his legs and I don’t go to move either.

“We are from LA.” Nicky says.

“Oh no way. I’ve always wanted to visit there.” I can’t even begin to count the amount of times Grace and I have dreamt of visiting the States, specifically California. I don’t know what it is, but I’m just drawn there.

“Have you ever visited?” Dacre asks in that soft voice of his.

“Yeah, nah.” I draw out, watching as I move the sand around with my toes. Shit, where did I drop my death traps of shoes? I wait for the boys to reply but they stay silent, I look up at each of them. Each looking just as confused as the next.

“So,” Nicky finally pipes up, “Would that be a yes or a no?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, now just as confused as they are. “I said no.”

“Baby, you said ‘Yeah, nah.’” His eyebrow quirks as it finally catches up with me after a moment and I burst out laughing. The guys each look around at each other, surely thinking I have lost the plot.

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