Page 76 of The Wild Card

“Your back,” she clarifies, grinning now. “Sunscreen. For your back.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ll burn.”

“I don’t burn.”

“Everyone burns.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. But when you’re crying in the shower later, don’t come to me for aloe.”

I lie back on my lounge chair and close my eyes, trying to will my body into submission. The sun is warm on my face. The sounds of the pool—splashing, distant conversation, the hum of the filter—are almost peaceful.

I can do this. I can lie here like a normal person and not think about Emmie’s skin beneath my hands.

“Cannonball!”

Water explodes over me.

I’m on my feet before I consciously decide to move, my body tensed, scanning for the threat—

Foster surfaces in the pool, grinning like an idiot. “Hey, roomies.”

“What the hell?”

“You looked too relaxed.” He pushes wet hair out of his face. “It was freaking me out.”

Emmie’s laughing, water droplets sparkling on her skin. She wipes her face with the back of her hand. “Nice entrance.”

“I try.” Foster hoists himself out of the pool, water streaming off him, and I do not miss the way Emmie’s eyes track down his chest for a second before snapping back to his face.

I also don’t miss the way Foster notices—his mouth quirks into a grin.

“Looking good, Emmie.” He grabs a towel from my chair—my towel—and dries his hair. “That bikini is, uh. Yeah.”

“Foster.” My voice is flat.

“What? I’m complimenting your girlfriend.” He drops onto the lounge chair on Emmie’s other side, stretching out like he owns the place. “Relax, Jensen. It’s a pool day. You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I was having fun.”

“You were lying there with your eyes closed and your fists clenched.” He gestures at my hands. “Look, you’re doing it right now.”

I force my fingers to uncurl and draw in a slow, steadying breath.

Emmie props herself up on her elbows, looking between us with amusement. “You two are adorable.”

“We’re not adorable,” I say.

“He’s adorable,” Foster corrects. “I’m ruggedly handsome.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Also true.” He reaches over and snags a beer from Emmie’s cooler. “So, what did I miss? Any good sexual tension before I got here?”

Emmie snorts. “We were applying sunscreen.”