Wanted by The Wanted | ✔️

|| NINE ||

|| B I S H ' S N O T E ||

It's actually a fucking miracle. I UPDATED. PRAISE THE POTATO GODS. It's been over a month. Jesus, I'll try and not let that happen again. As a sorry, appreciate the hotness attached xx

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:| A V Y N L U N A V E R |:

"Bloody hell, why is it so fucking hot?" I grit out, laying a heated arm over my eyes in an attempt to defend myself against the scorching sun.

Even the pool was beginning to boil with the sheer magnitude and stupidity of the sun. All of us were hot, bothered, and sweaty. And the sticky, kill-me-now kinda sweat. Not the sexy kind.

"Fucking hell," Red comments as he strides out of the hotel and sinks into the pool, face twisted into an unamused scowl.

"Screw it," I step away from my sunbed and jump into the minimally-cool water, submerging myself waist-high and propping my elbows up on the side of the pool behind me, "Screw LA. Screw the weather. Screw everything."

I glance back at the hotel as Trent walks out, pulling his shirt over his head and sending me a self-satisfied grin, "Gee, I'm not one to slut-shame but maybe you shouldn't be so loud about your endeavours, Avs."

Too tired to fire back a snide reply, I turn to look at my bikini, distorted under the chlorinated water. I had bought it earlier today in a shop labelled B-Suits. After a snort at the name, I had entered with hopes as high my pinky finger - and I had left with about as much. This black to white gradient piece was probably the only thing that covered the lady parts in the entire store.

It ties in the back under my shoulder blades and something tells me that one swift pull will result in an impromptu flashing. The bottom piece is a solid black with decorative ribbons on the side that irk me with how they billow in the humid breeze.

As Oscar dives into the pool and evacuates half of the water, my scowl deepens. Resurfacing, he shakes his head to one side, his soaked hair sending a blade of water out that nails me right in the face.

I send him the middle finger.

When Red swims past me, I refocus my attention to the aim at hand.

"Hey, Red, can you help me bring out the drinks?" I ask nonchalantly, pulling myself out of the pool with the small amount of upper-body strength I have.

He shrugs and I'm just about to take a step as Oscar grabs my ankle.

"Wait, I'll come," he suggests, about to lift himself out.

Warning bells scream at me internally as I quickly analyse Red's uncaring attitude at the change in plan. Crap.

"No!" I stamp my heel into the back of Oscar's hand forcefully as he curses and pulls back, wincing and then shooting me a what-the-hell? look.

"Uh. Um, I mean, no thanks, Red and I have got 'em."

Shit. Real cool, Avyn.

Oscar looks at me, unconvinced as I gesture for Red to follow me under the canopy where glasses of lemonade are stashed. I pick up the tray, the ice in the glasses clinking around as Red picks up the other tray.

Here goes nothing.

"Hey, uhhh, this may sound... odd... but I kind of need to ask you something," I clear my throat, stopping him as he starts to walk back.

He quirks an eyebrow as I try to find a friendly and casual way to bring up the question that's been bugging me for a while.

"So lately, I've noticed a couple things... Like, uh..." good start, Avyn, "you looking at Trent. Uh. Like in... that way."