Page 29 of Changing Lanes

I dive off the side of the pool into the crisp, cool water, gliding to the bottom before kicking back up to the top. Swimming has always been a necessity living in this part of Washington where the summers last half the year with temperatures well into the nineties, if not worse. The shade offers almost no reprieve from the dry, desert-like air, so water’s the only real defense at battling the unbearable heat.

We didn’t have a pool growing up but we spent most afternoons at one of the three local rivers, cooling off. The boys would jump off anything with some height and thanks to my competitive nature, we’d end up diving off the highest cliffs we could find just to outdo each other.

We’re lucky we’re all still alive honestly.

“Someone can’t take their eyes off you.”

I twist to find Angela sitting on the edge a few feet away, soaking her legs. Her dark two-piece is stunning against her tan, thin frame. I’d expect every guy here to be hitting on her but Coty does a good job keeping them away with his ominous glare alone.

Needless to say, girl time has been uneventful.

“Who?”

She juts her jaw out and I follow her line of vision to see an imposing Beckett watching from his chair. Every time I look over there, he’s watching. Waiting. For what though? What does he want from me? I haven’t had a drink this whole time so I know that’s not his problem.

Ignoring him and the feeling his gaze does, I dip my head back into the water, letting the water soak the long strands like I used to during my nightly bath time. It was the only time I could actually get the bathroom to myself away from my brothers. Forget sculpting your eyebrows or doing your hair, the boys didn’t give a shit about that stuff. They only wanted to pee and they didn’t care who was in there to see it.

It was hard having girl friends as a child that didn’t have siblings like I did. Hard because some of them would only use me to get to one of my brothers. Hard because I envied them so much sometimes it hurt to be around them. They had things I’d never had—new toys, makeup, privacy, freedom—and that somehow felt even worse. Hard, too, because they’d show a wicked sense of entitlement that I just couldn’t relate to. At fucking all. With four older siblings, nothing is only ever yours.

When I lift my head again, I settle my gaze on a tatted rocker standing against the fence, telling Angela, “This guy hasn’t stopped checking me out since I stepped through the gate.” I look at her briefly. “I’m guessing Beckett is an only child?”

Angela’s chest swells and my eyes narrow but she finally nods stiffly so I return my eyes to my own new pet.

“He’s not used to sharing what he’s deemed his,” I say more to myself than Angela.

I should’ve known. Stupid men, always trying to mark territory they have no business claiming. Too bad for Beckett, I’m not his or anyone else’s. I’m my own fucking woman and no matter who keeps my bed warm at night, I intend to keep it that way.

I jerk a nod at the Andy Black lookalike. He’s not exactly my type, a little too grimy, but I feel like getting dirty and he looks willing as he happily saunters over with a smile carving his mouth up. He crouches down directly in front of me at the pool’s edge, struggling a bit in skinny jeans tighter than the ones I own, and levels me with a simmering stare.

Now, we’re getting somewhere.

“Hey, beautiful.”

A loud whistle slicing through the courtyard cuts me and my eye roll off.

“Aye, River! Don’t expect me to give you mouth-to-mouth when all that jewelry drags your ass straight to the bottom.”

River’s gaze leaves mine, giving a short nod but when he moves to stand, I say, “You could always lose the jewelry. And the clothes.” I tip an eyebrow even though, really, his all-black outfit should’ve been shed hours ago. This is southeast Washington in July—the less clothing, the better.

“Don’t be a twatsicle, dude, and just stay away from the deep end.” Ahem, my end.

There’s a bite to Beckett’s playful warning but I don’t bother checking behind me. Angela’s hazel eyes tell me everything I need to know. So does the retreating back formally known as my next one-night stand. Damn it.

“That was…interesting.” I keep my eyes locked on Angela’s, watching as they round in thought. “I’ve never seen Beckett act like that before.”

I finally break, chancing a look over my shoulder. Beckett’s staring daggers at River, slashing him to absolute pieces, all while the redhead from upstairs wiggles on his lap, happy as a clam and oblivious as one, too.

Oh, the hypocrisy.

Now I let the eye roll fly.

“Act like what?”

“Like he actually gives a shit.”

I eye her, wondering how much she’s willing to reveal here.

“Are you two…?” She lets the question linger as I pull up on the side of the pool next to her.