His father disappeared from the window as soon as our eyes met, and Peyton didn't pick up on my shocked facial expression. He only kept fucking me, with his arms wrapped around me.
I wonder how long he was standing there. How much of my body did he see? Should I feel nervous? Disgust? Excitement? I don't even know.
"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum." She felt his load inside her even under the water.
"Sorry, couldn't help it honey. When you wear bikinis like that, my mind wanders.
6 months ago, I would've found it sweet, but it's hardly a compliment.
He leaned back in the water, floating near me and his brown eyes looked darker with the water reflecting on them. He was cute when we first started dating, and his traits of his father have fully developed. Like his father, he was handsome. His hair was short on the sides and long on top, and lighter than his dad's.
"We need to talk."
The patio door opened, drawing our attention. His father stepped outside, carrying a pitcher in one hand and two cups in the other.
Peyton grinned like it was some joke I wasn't following. "What's that?"
"Fresh lemonade," his father answered quickly.
Peyton laughed. "Poor Judy. Maybe I should go over and tell her you hate the taste of lemon. She could make those cookies again. Or the brownies."
I scowled in confusion as he swam close and wrapped his arms around me.
"Our neighbor got divorced, and now she wants my dad really bad. Up until today, she's been trying to get his full attention with baked goods. How come you don't bake anymore?"
"Probably because we barely see each other?" my tone was flat out rude (as it should be in this circumstance).
His father put the glasses and the pitcher on the table. "Well, enjoy."
"You think she drugged it?"
"Peyton... I'm sure it's safe," he said before disappearing back in the house.
Under the water, his hands began to play with the strings at my hips. He didn't get the hint as I tried to pull away, boiling my irritation.
"I didn't come to fuck you."
"Then why did you?"
Fuck. His question broke the last piece of my heart in two. "I can't do this anymore. It's over."
"You've changed. I feel like we're completely different people now.
His expression was pure shock and confusion.
"I'm not someone who you can just call when you're horny."
"But it's not like that?"
"Really. We barely see each other, only when you wanna fuck me."
Right as he was about to say something, the patio door opened.
"This is important."
His father had a phone in his hand, walking towards him. "It's your boss. He says you're not answering any of his calls on your cellphone."
"Fuck, my battery died." He stretched his hand up and took the cordless phone from his father. "Hello?"
He paused, listening to the other side and scowled. "No, I'm not coming in today. I don't work until Tuesday."
My gaze locked onto his father's and the same thought seemed to hit us both. Today was Tuesday.
"Shit," Peyton said into the phone, scrambling to go to the stairs. "Yeah, of course. I'm so sorry. I'll be there in 15 minutes."
He ran up the stairs, dropping the phone on the chair cushion and grabbed the towel that was sitting there. My towel, since he clearly forgot to bring one out.
"I gotta go." I have no idea if he was talking to me or his dad. "I'm already late."
His father crossed his arms over his chest, clearly irritated.
"I know, I screwed up. Sorry."
"I didn't even know you got a job, Peyton."
"Yeah, sorry. I forgot to tell you. Bu I have to go." He wrapped the towel around his waist and ran into the house.
Again, no apology to who it was for. My frustration and anger boiled over. He didn't even think about staying and talking to me. Or to simply say goodbye!
"How did he not know it was Tuesday?"
The summer always messed him up but this was his JOB. Being a waiter wasn't a life or death situation but Peyton acted like he needed money urgently.
Dr. Lowery sighed, clearly frustrated. "I'm sorry about him. You know you're welcome to stay as long as you want."
Um... unlikely because I'll be only staring at you. "Thanks."
"And there's fresh lemonade."
"I know what you're trying to do," I said slightly blushing. "You're just trying to unload that all on me."
"I feel bad pouring it out. If you like lemon, I'm sure it tastes good."
I forced a smile and looked at him. Our eyes locked for a long moment. Long enough that caused his expression to change. He gave me a look similar to the one earlier in the garage and it made my body tingle.
What in the actual fuck? I looked down at the ripples in the water, blinking multiple times. Maybe I'm not imagining things.
"Do you want some?" his deep voice came out unsteady, and his question threw me off.
What was he offering? "Some?"
Right. I was a moron, thinking of things that weren't real. "Oh. Sure."
He picked up a cup and poured from the pitcher, and my focus drew down to his hands. Muscular hands that made my mind wander. Stop it, Riley.
"Here you go," he bent down over the edge of the pool and gave the cup to me.
"Thank you." I took a sip, and he watched my reaction. Fuck, that's sour.
He could tell by my facial expression that I didn't like it.
He smirked and said, "Don't feel bad about pouring it out. It's way too sour in my opin."
I set the cup on the side of the pool and turned my gaze to the steps. I couldn't stay here. I climbed out of the pool as Dr. Lowery picked up the cups and pitcher.
He stopped when he noticed me standing with my arms crossed over my chest. It was hot outside, but the breeze made it feel chilly. I was soaked and I didn't want to go in the house to change until I at least dried off somewhat.
"You forgot to bring a towel out?"
"No. Peyton did, and he took mine."
He shook his head and muttered something under his breath as he went inside the house, taking the sour, gross lemonade with him. He reappeared 30 seconds later with a folded towel and passed it to me.
"Thank you. I didn't want to drip all over the carpet without a towel."
"Because you're capable of thinking of someone else besides yourself."
I know he was indicating towards Peyton, but I didn't know how to respond. I wrapped the towel around my body and pressed my lips together.
His expression wasn't truly frustration. It looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he held back and frowned. His brown eyes filled with disappointment.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"No thank you."
"Alright. I'm.... going inside."
He turned quickly and disappeared into the house. Seeing him react the way he did made me uneasy.