LISA
"Are you going to stop sniggering, Jen?"
We make our way onto the terrace where flowering pink hibiscus climb white walls and sit down at a wooden table next to the infinity edge pool sparkling under the sun. A waiter gives us menus plus a complementary basket of pastries and a bowl of vibrant summer fruit.
"It's just... " Jennie shakes her head, still laughing.
"You went out of your way to make things uncomfortable for me back there. And why are you wearing a new top? It's practically see-through," I hiss.
"Are you talking to my boobs again?" She's smirking, her long, loose hair spilling over her shoulder and lifting in the wind.
"Yes. Partly... Fuck -" I groan, momentarily slapping a hand over my eyes, and begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears. "Just stop doing whatever you're doing," I say, voice strained.
I'm feeling everything I don't want to. I'm hot and sweaty. My mouth is dry, my words a jumble.
"Which is?" Jennie folds her arms against her chest, pushing her boobs together.
She's doing this to torment me. She has to be.
I wave my hand in front of her body like that should answer the question.
"Poor thing. Should've really let me return the favor last night, but you were so insistent on taking care of my needs." Jennie leans back in her chair, fixing me with a mischievous-as-hell smirk, and I sigh. "You know, you're pretty cute when you're flustered," she adds.
I roll my eyes. "I swear I will relocate you to the Kalahari Desert if you continue to push me."
Jennie has a hand over her mouth, laughing silently. She pauses, then lifts her chin defiantly. "Do you want to have sex instead? Over there in that striped cabana lined with plush pillows?"
Stupidly, I glance over, pausing for too long, and then snap, "No!"
When I turn back to Jennie, she's still looking at me.
"No!"
Jennie holds up her hands. "Okay, okay. Just thought an orgasm might help your raging stress levels."
My eyes drift down to the table, the tip of her little finger curled against mine. I snatch it away like I've been burned.
"Yes. I can see how incredibly helpful you are being right now," I say with a thick layer of sarcasm and grab a pastry from the basket.
I sink back into my chair, my stomach churning with frustration because her touch is everything. Not many things feel this good these days.
"Your butt looks amazing in that skirt, by the way." Jennie makes a grabbing motion with her hands. "Just perfect."
I sigh loudly, feeling tension present in every single muscle. "Please shove a custard tart or whatever the hell this Danish thing is in your mouth and stop talking."
Her grin looks as though she can hear what I'm thinking, but this time, she listens.
Thank God for that.
The waiter returns, and Jennie orders eggs benedict. Obviously, I'm not hungry, but at least I've put this conversation to rest, so I'm able to finally tilt my head back and let the serenity of the ocean lapping the shore wash over me.
Not two minutes later, a grating voice asks, "Lalisa? Is that you?"
I grit my teeth, and when I open my eyes, an extra large head with close-set eyes is looming over me and blocking out my sun. Even her silhouette is annoying.
