Page 35 of Beautiful Monster

Every time I close my eyes, I feel him grinding himself all over me, begging me to fuck him, telling me he wanted to fuck me. I will never forget as long as I live the way it sounded to hear him say that to me. And how badly I wanted to let him.

“Hey,” he says as he walks through the pool house to grab a water from the fridge. He’s in a tight white T-shirt and gray sweatpants that are snug against his backside. I catch Cadence gawking as he leans into the fridge. When he notices my sister sitting on the couch, he hesitates. I didn’t tell him she was coming, and I hope he doesn’t start thinking that I’m afraid to be alone with him now. When his eyes find me, searching for something, I see that question there.

Instead of trying to answer it now, I get back to work.

“Rough night?” Cadence asks, her voice two octaves higher than normal.

“Yeah,” he answers with an uncomfortable laugh. Inwardly, I stifle a groan. She thinks it’s funny, and for her, it is, but for Alexander, it’s a reminder that he failed. “About to take a swim to cool off. Care to join me?”

It’s a harmless invitation. He would have said it to anyone. That’s who Alexander is. The social being, party animal, never leaving anyone out, but he doesn’t see how his actions are translated by others. My sister lights up like the Fourth of July.

“Sure,” she squeals as she pulls off her see-through cover.

The hand holding the paintbrush freezes over the palette as I watch them talk on the pool deck. I have to make myself dip the brush into the paint, mix it until I find the right shade, and focus on what I’m doing and not on what they're talking about or how she’s touching his arm.

I never outwardly admitted to my sister that I was growing feelings for Alexander, but I wonder if she would still flirt with him if she knew. She thinks it’s a harmless crush, and maybe it is, but it still hurts to see her brush me aside so she can get closer to him.

I stay in the pool house painting, letting the muscle memory in my fingers do all the work while I listen to them flirt in the pool, her laughing at every single thing he says. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch them interact, and I notice the way he doesn’t hold her eye contact for long. Not like he holds mine. Not long enough to let her lose herself in those dark pools.

When they come inside, Cadence starts rooting around in the kitchen area and Alexander keeps his distance, drying his hair as he watches me on the scaffolding.

“Sunny, take a break and come swim with us,” she whines as she kneels down to look in the drink fridge.

“I’m busy,” I mutter, looking down at the chartreuse swirling with magenta, and I wish I could escape into the color.

“Alexander, where do you keep your liquor?” she asks with a flirty giggle, and I feel every muscle inside me tense.

He clears his throat. “I don’t have any.”

My neck snaps in his direction. Why is he lying?

“You’re joking.” She laughs, standing up from the fridge.

My eyes quickly scan it before she closes it. Normally it is packed with beers, seltzers, chilled wine. But for the first time I notice…it’s almost empty. Save for a few sparkling waters.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I don’t like to drink at home.”

Then, his eyes meet mine, and I feel my skin growing hot. Is this from our conversation this morning? I was so hesitant to even say anything to him because I didn’t want him to think me a bore or a buzzkill.

But he must not have thought so because…he cleansed his house of all the liquor inside it? When on earth did he have time to do that?

My heart pitter-patters quickly in my chest.

“I think Sunny is rubbing off on you,” Cadence says, and her tone is somewhere between teasing and genuine. But before she can add to it, she struts back out to the pool.

She jumps into the water without another word, leaving Alex and I alone. I turn back to the painting when I hear him crack open a can that I already know to be nonalcoholic.

My stupid heart is pounding even harder.

Then, a soft hand glides across the bare skin of my lower back, sending butterflies sailing through my stomach. I freeze under the contact.

“Take a break, rain cloud,” he whispers, his mouth so close to my neck.

Every breath is heavy, like my lungs are filled with rocks. They come out slow and silent, but his hand doesn’t leave my back.

As he touches my back, albeit innocently, I can only think one thing—Cadence can see us. And that’s not nothing. He might not realize it, but I do. In my mind, that’s him staking his claim. It’s him showing her who he belongs to.

Granted, my mind is delusional and tragically optimistic, but I can’t help it.