Page 97 of Ominous: Part 1
I’m hot.
I’m fucking hot.
I repeat it in my head like if I say it enough times, the magic will work, and I’ll believe it.
But I still have my arms wrapped around my body, my fingers splayed along the warm fabric of my ripped-up, icy gray one piece, my necklaces all on because they look cool, I think.
Once upon a time, this swimsuit wasn’t sexy. Just two simple straps, a low-dipped back—not too low, only to the middle of my spine—a lot of my body was covered when Mom brought this home for me last year after my other swimsuits had been picked to hell.
I took a pair of scissors to this one immediately, shredding the sides, the material just over my hips at the back. Now I kind of regret that, even if I felt untouchable on the waves the day after Mom first gave this to me. The ocean can hide your insecurities, and I was only ever swimming with Amanda.
When I glance down, seeing my thighs touch, I have the urge to run back inside, into the cool, air-conditioned mansion, and hide under one of the fluffy blankets in one of the living rooms.
Who needs two fucking living rooms?
But then I remind myself Manda was always jealous of my ass, and even Nic—as stuck up and straightlaced as he turned out to be—could never keep his eyes off of it.
This makes me feel marginally better.
I hear the trickling of the waterfall, somehow spilling from near the hot tub into the kidney shaped pool, which seems to stretch the entire length of the forested backyard. It doesn’t, because there’s the glass pool house, a garden lining the stone at the far edge of the pool, umbrellas in the center of glass top tables, a bar at the pool house.
As I take another step on the hot, beige stones, I see sleek beige sun chairs, enough to host our entire Latin class, it seems, but I force my gaze to the vibrant blue water.
This, I can do.
There’s no diving board, as if such a thing would be offensive in this luxury, but there are stone benches beneath the water at the shallow end, so I head for where it’s deeper, arms still crossed over myself.
But when I reach the smooth curve of the deep end, my royal blue painted toes at the very edge of the water, ready to cover myself in chlorine, I hear him speak from somewhere behind me, near the pool house.
“Turn around, Eden.”
My throat feels tight, especially with the metal choker around it, which I am now acutely aware of, and I keep my eyes trained on the water. I could just jump in. It’s not like his words alone can keep me here. In fact, I’d like to spite him by pretending I didn’t hear a word he said. I was changing in the bathroom downstairs, and he said he was going to get towels and set them out here, so I’ve yet to see him in a swimsuit either.
It’s not like it matters. It’s not like he hasn’t traced every inch of my body with his eyes over the past few weeks, maybe longer. I know because I’ve done the same to him. Definitely for longer.
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and telling myself to stop being insecure.
But when I open them again, I see a shadow thrown over the rippling surface of the pool, far taller than my own, and this one is real.
A second later, his hands come to my hips. My entire body seizes up with his cool touch. I can feel him through the homemade rips in my swimsuit, especially when he tightens his grip, the rest of his body not quite touching mine, but if I took the smallest step back, we’d be melded together.
I can hear my pulse in my ears, and it roars louder than the ocean when he presses his lips to the base of my neck, my hair done again just last night in crown braids from the neighbor.
I suck in a breath, my mouth curving into a smile despite my nerves.
His fingers come over mine, wrapped around my body, and he gently pushes my hands down.
“Just let go,” he says, and I do, dropping my arms by my sides, my bracelets, minus one, drifting over the top of my hands. He splays his fingers along my waist, and his breath skates over my skin. “Do you want a drink?”
No. Yes.I think of the coke at Dominic’s party, how it surprised Eli so much I did it. It surprised me too, truthfully, and I might not have been able to if I hadn’t had a few drinks in my system.
But it’s only nine in the morning.
If I start drinking now, who knows where I’ll be when it gets to be nine at night? I told Mom I’d be back at that time. I think I meant it.
But I have twelve hours until then.
I need to relax, or I won’t get any answers from this boy, and I’m still counting on the sigil to kick in. Magic helps those who help themselves, probably not too different than God, I guess. I might as well make the most of all my time here. He said the cops just questioned him because he’s Dom’s friend and Winslet is Dom’s sister and they slept together. But something just… doesn’t make much sense there. Eli, I know, is not above lying to get his way.
