Page 17 of Summer Heat

It kind of makes me like him a little bit more, but that’s not exactly saying much.

Leaving the clutch of people behind and the heat of the fire, I shiver as we walk along the beach. It’s cold along the water tonight.

Tristan must notice, because he lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I’m all tucked in, and his warmth immediately settles over me.

“Thanks for that back there. I don’t know why she has to treat me like that when we’re in front of other people. There was a time when I thought we could be friends, but it’s almost as if she’s forgotten we’re even sisters. I don’t get it.”

Tristan’s arm tightens around me as his nose brushes along the skin behind my ear. The scent of cheap beer coming off his breath is strong, and my free hand lifts on its own accord to cover my nose.

“You’re prettier than she is, and you’ve got a better rack. Plus, Chelsea comes across as experienced, already broken in. You’re the complete opposite of that, and even though a lot of men will deny it, every man wants to go where no other man has been before. It’s part of your appeal.”

Ah, there he is. What was I saying about him not being that bad? Guess I was wrong.

“You’re disgusting,” I spit out as I drive my elbow into his ribs. He curses while groaning in pain, and I wiggle my way out of his hold.

I can’t believe he had the balls to say that to my face. What an absolute grade-A asshole.

“Come on, Greer. Don’t be like that. You were just thanking me thirty seconds ago. Don’t go playing hard to get on me now and pretend like you don’t like the attention. I’m what girls like you dream of for their first time.”

I know he made that crack about my sister already being broken in, but how the hell would he know that I’m a virgin? Is it really that obvious?

Slamming my hands down on my hips, I glare at him. “You have no idea what a girl like me wants, Tristan. If you did, you’d keep your damn hands to yourself.”

“All I heard was Greer wants Tristan.”

Is this guy for fucking real?

I want to scream or maybe throw something at him. The smile on his face only makes it worse. He and Chelsea would be perfect for each other if only they could both get their heads out of their asses.

“I’m not sticking around for this crap,” I mumble in disgust as I turn away and stomp off.

A hand on my arm stops me from going far, and I whip around, ready to give him another piece of my mind. My mouth drops open to yell at him, but his mouth slams down on mine. He tastes like shitty beer and not a good time.

He pulls me against his chest as his tongue slides into my mouth, making me gag.

Oh, good grief, this can’t be happening to me again.

I try to shove his tongue out of my mouth with my own, and this seems to egg him on and excite him even more. He moans in my mouth before breaking the kiss.

“Damn, Greer. You feel so good.”

The feeling isn’t mutual. Fuck him.

I shove at his chest, but he barely moves an inch.

“Tristan, Tristan. Please stop this nonsense. You’re drunk. Go back to the party and find someone else to play with. I’m not here for this.”

I shove at his chest as I kick him in the shin. He curses but doesn’t let me go. His hands slide down and around, his thumbs brushing just underneath the wire of my bra.

“Stop trying to play hard to get, Greer. We both know it’s bullshit.”

Nope, not bullshit at all. Don’t they teach them that no means no at Yale?

I swat his hands away and kick him right in the nuts, this time putting all of my strength into it. He lets me go abruptly, and I stumble backwards, tripping over my own feet and falling on my ass in the sand.

“Hey!” a somewhat familiar voice shouts from behind me.

“Yo, did you just push that girl down? Not cool, dickhead.”

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