Crush

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Cami-

I stretched out in the poolside lounge chair, trying to catch some of the warm, spring rays, and get a jumpstart on my tan for the year. Once again, I thanked the genetics of my parents. Even though they'd given me the curly, red hair of my mother, I had at least been blessed with the warm skin tones of my father—skin that loved the sun.

Clay, who was not so blessed, sat beside me and continued to slather sunscreen over every inch of his white, glowing body.

"I think you've got half the bottle on you now," I joked as I watched him rub it in vigorously.

"Not all of us are gifted with the complexion of a supermodel, like you are."

I laughed. "Actually, most models avoid the sun. They're probably as pale as you."

He considered this for a moment before flexing his mid section. "But do they have my great abs of steel?"

I snorted as I stared at him. He wasn't flabby by any means, but I certainly wouldn't call his stomach abs of steel. When I pictured a body like that, I saw someone like . . . Hunter Wilder. I groaned and hid my eyes behind my arm.

"That bad, huh?" Clay sounded defeated.

"No, no, no!" I hurried to reassure him. "Your comment just made me think of something that happened."

"Oh, well fill me in then." He finished rubbing his sunscreen in and settled into the seat.

"It's nothing really. Are those new swimming trunks?" I tried to change the subject. "I don't remember seeing them before." I gestured to the plaid shorts he was wearing. He'd had a serious obsession with plaid for as long as I could remember. Sometimes a little was okay, but when it came to Clay, he always managed to overdo it.

"Don't you even try to dodge me. We've been best friends since kindergarten, and I know when you're hiding stuff. You've been quiet and reflective all day. Tell me what's going on."

I laughed again. "Are you this bossy with your girlfriend?"

"No. It's hard to tell Marcy what to do when she lives three hours away."

"Well, at least you're close enough to see each other once in a while. That's nice."

He made some sort of noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. "Back to the original subject. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just had a weird moment with Hunter Wilder. I'm not sure if he was trying to discretely be insulting or if he was flirting with me."

Clay's eyebrows furrowed. "If I were you, I wouldn't have anything to do with him. He's not your kind of guy. In fact, I advise you to stay far, far away." His tone had taken on a decidedly agitated quality.

I narrowed my eyes and observed him closely. "You sound upset. Do you know him?"

"Not really, but I know enough. Rumor has it he's hardcore into the drug scene. He also has "womanizer" written all over him." He scratched his head as he scowled. "He's one of those guys that girls just lay down in front of. He can have his pick of anyone."

"Oh, I get it. You're saying you don't think he was flirting with me. Thanks a lot." I made a screwed up face.

He shook his head. "No, I'm saying I know he was flirting. I've seen him look at you. Trust me, Cami. He wants you to be another notch on his headboard."

My breath caught, surprised at his remark. Clay had never spoken to me this way about other guys. He seemed truly upset.

"I'm not the notch-making kind of girl, in case you've forgotten," I snapped, suddenly irritated by his remark.