I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks—not from the sun.
From embarrassment.
From that old, familiar sting of not being enough.
Not pretty enough.
Not thin enough.
Not cool enough.
Never chosen.
Always tolerated.
She’s already untied her hair, and her hands are working, shaking out the glossy tresses as she moves her body to the best advantage in that goddamn bikini that belongs on a Sports Illustrated model, not a boat filled with your closest relatives.
Her body simply defies gravity.Her abs look Photoshopped.Honestly?They might actually be painted on.
But the thing that really hurts?Lisa knows exactly what she’s doing.
Old, gnawing doubt slithers up my spine.
Of course, she thinks Luca will want to come.
Of course, she thinks he’d rather be anywhere else than sitting beside the fat girl in a dress.
But before I can sink into a full-blown shame spiral, Luca leans toward me.
One arm casually draped behind me on the bench, his body language unmistakably possessive.
“Depends on what my Angel wants,” he replies casually.
Then he leans down, and his voice is a low rumble near my ear.“You wanna swim back at the hotel, or arewe busy?”
I nod, but it’s weak.
He turns back to Lisa, smile cool, polite.
“Thanks for the invite,” he says smoothly, “but we’ve got plans.”
Lisa blinks.“You do?”
He grins.“Yeah.I promised Annabeth we’d have a private swim together at the beach.”
I blink.
We what?
“Oh,” Lisa says, faltering for the first time all day.“Well, okay then.Don’t have too much fun.Maybe you can come to the pool after.”
Luca chuckles, and his hand slides down to rest on my thigh.
“We’ll try.”
As soon as she flounces away, I lean in, whispering, “What are you talking about?We have plans?”
He lifts a shoulder, eyes glinting with mischief and something a little warmer.