The three of us sat by the pool under a cabana, sipping margaritas. I was a little tipsy from drinking for the past few hours and ready to nap by the time I finished my drink.
Rhys set his glass on the table and hopped up from the lounge chair, hand extended. “Swim with me, princess.”
I laughed the first time he called me that because it was far from the truth. If my life were a fairy tale, it would be one of the dark and twisted stories written by the Brothers Grimm.
Cole flipped up his sunglasses and groaned beside me, readjusting the book in his hand.
“We just got out of the pool.” He tipped his head at the chair. “Sit, Vanderbilt. Stop flirting with Grace.”
They’d been friends for years and had attended York Military Academy since they were kids. But I could sense some hostility from Cole since Rhys’s arrival. Whenever Rhys got too close to me, Cole treated me like his possession, which only drew me closer to Rhys.
He was fun and made me laugh. I didn’t feel like another one of his responsibilities.
A part of me enjoyed watching Cole squirm whenever I let Rhys put his hands on me. I wanted him to feel my pain.
He made me feel stupid.
It was only fair Cole had to watch me with Rhys. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, even though he did his best to keep us apart.
Rhys wiggled his long fingers in front of me. “Don’t listen to Marshall. He’s no fun.”
I took his hand, and he helped me up from the chair, scooping me into his arms. Rhys’s muscled chest pressed against mine, which would have been okay if I weren’t wearing a bikini that was a size too small.
His eyes dipped between my cleavage and then back to my face.
Rhys licked his full lips.
I liked the way he looked at me.
“You know the rules,” Cole reminded Rhys, setting down the novel in his hand on the beach chair. “Grace is off-limits.”
This was at least the tenth time Cole reminded Rhys this week. He was strict and what you would expect from a man raised by the military. In a lot of ways, he reminded me of my adoptive father. But after feeling trapped for years, I wanted to be free.
I wanted to explore.
Rhys let me do that.
“
Give it a break,” Rhys snapped, yanking me away from the cabana. “Chill the fuck out and stop acting like we’re at the academy.”
Before he graduated, Cole was the platoon commander, which wasn’t much of a surprise. He was the textbook cadet colonel, constantly issuing orders like he was in charge.
I followed Rhys toward the pool and squealed when he put his hand on my ass.
He grunted at my reaction, cupping my backside with his palm. “You look good in this bikini.”
“Vanderbilt,” Cole warned from a distance.
Rhys waved his free hand in the air to dismiss him. “Save it.”
Cole was at his side within seconds, ripping his hand from my body. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
