Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Fine, fine.” He backs away, hands raised. “But if you’re not downstairs in twenty, I’m sending Evie in here with a bullhorn.”
“Trust me, Evie has already done enough damage today.”
He winks. “You say that, but no matter what Evie tries to throw at you, I’m certain you’ve survived worse.”
The trauma of the dick pics flashes behind my eyes, and I shake my head. “Ace, you don’t even want to know what Evie just tried to throw my way.”
“It can’t compare to that time you gave yourself bangs with kindergarten scissors and blamed it on me.”
“Hey now!” I point an index finger in his direction. “I was five, and you dared me to.”
“And I thought you looked cute when it was all said and done.”
“All said and done?” I question on a laugh. “My mom lost her mind when she saw that my hair looked like a mushroom.”
“But you were a cute mushroom.”
“Out,” I say, giving him a playful shove toward my bedroom, and he starts to head on his merry way.
“I’m going to check on Luna 2.0 real quick. And…” He turns back one last time. “Don’t forget to sing loud enough for me to hear you downstairs. You sound like dying sea life, and it calms me.”
“Leave, Ace.”
“Going, going.” He shoots finger guns at me. “But if brunch turns into a Kline Brooks’ interrogation, I’m throwing you under the bus.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As I shut the bathroom door, I hear him mutter through the wood, “You’re lucky I like you so much, Lia.”
I smirk, turning the shower handle all the way hot. “You’re lucky I haven’t murdered you with my loofah!”
His laugh fades as he walks away, and for the first time all morning, the house feels quiet.
But not in a bad way.
In an Ace-is-here kind of way. And somehow, that’s always been enough.
Ace
The pool shimmers in front of me, water lapping at the edge and flickering in the overhead sun. It’s three o’clock, and Julia and I have been at Manhattan Elite Swim Club for an hour. I’m in the pool, and she sits on a lounger under a cabana canopy twenty feet away. Her skin is still dewy with undried pool water, and I do everything in my power to keep my tongue in my mouth and my dick—constantly threatening to salute her—within the confines of my trunks.
I haven’t gotten a hard-on in public in five years, let alone for my best friend, and the feelings of pubescence, I have to say, are not a comfort.
Her skin is tanned, and her legs are long, just like always. And yet, today, I can’t seem to make myself look at anything else. There are other girls here. Hell, there’s one five feet away who’s been doing her best to grab my attention, but all I can see is Julia.
Jules.
Lia.
My best fucking friend and, evidently, the love of my life.
Fuck.
When I woke up this morning, I tried to tell myself I had just lost it a little last night and what I thought I was feeling for Julia was, like, temporary confusion or misplaced feelings or a non-life-threatening stroke.
But then I went to her parents’ house in Jersey to pick her up, and I caught sight of those big blue eyes of hers and heard her gorgeous fucking laugh and I couldn’t bullshit myself into thinking my feelings for her weren’t real.
They are real. Too real, if I’m honest.
Of course she wanted to do something in a bikini today. Of course. Only thing worse would have been a nude retreat, and with the minuscule size of her orange-and-white cheeky bottoms, I’m not entirely sure we’re not on one.
But seriously, why does her ass have to be so…perfect?
I bite my lip and swim over to the edge to get a little closer, but she’s just out of range, behind another couple of rows of busy chairs and a mesh curtain she’s just rolled down from our poolside cabana to keep more of the sun at bay. Our parents have been members of this club for as long as I can remember, and the perks are awesome. A running tab to get food, all access to a private pool, and some of the finest sporting equipment in all the city are always at our fingertips.
I know we’re a couple of spoiled rich kids, but I try to use it to my advantage for other people too when I can. Just today, I invited Finn and Scottie to come with us on our guest passes, but they both declined, citing plans to hold hands and kiss or some shit.
Lucky, reciprocated-love bastards.
I sigh, putting my cheek down on the hot, wet concrete and willing myself to calm down and come back to center. This is Julia.
My Lia.
Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she’s beautiful. Yes, she’s smart and funny and interesting and amazing in all the ways that count. But she’s also my pal. She’s the person I can trust and have trusted my entire life. She knows all my secrets and faults and failures. She knows the best of me and the worst of me, and she knows that they often come in tandem.