I leaned back and closed my eyes as well. The June midday sun in California was already intense, but it felt good on my bare skin. In the distance, a door opened and shut. I’d only heard the door to the pool house a few times, but I already recognized its distinctive sound. Finley and I both lifted our heads and shaded our eyes as we looked toward it.

Jude plopped down in his usual chair.

“Let me guess,” Finley called across the pool area, “the model is getting ready.”

“Nope,” Jude replied without further elaboration.

“Then you needed a smoke.” Finley turned toward me. “Dad doesn’t let anyone smoke in the house or pool house.”

“Nope,” Jude answered. “Just came out here to watch.”

Finley leaned her head back and dropped her hand. “I suppose I should have started with that.”

I leaned back too. “You’ve got to give him points for honesty.”

We lay there greased and primed for the UV rays, but Finley’s straps were still causing her angst. And knowing Jude was across the way watching us sun wasn’t helping my nerves either.

Apparently, the vantage point of the pool house was subpar, and Jude strolled across the path and pulled up a chair near the lounges. I was now acutely aware of the ridiculous lack of coverage provided by my new suit.

Finley grunted in frustration. “It’s no good. I have to change my suit. Whoever designed this suit should be burned at the stake while being drawn and quartered.” She pushed off of the lounge and stomped back toward the house. “I’ll be right back after I change and push this suit through the shredder.”

Jude watched her march off and then looked at me with a told you so type of look.

“So she doesn’t like the straps on her suit.” I waved it off. “That happens all the time.”

“Right. So you talked her into walking past the hedge yesterday,” he said.

“Sure did. And she was really excited about that little accomplishment.”

“I’ll bet.”

“You really are a pessimist, aren’t you?”

He held his arms out to the side. “What? All I said was, I’ll bet. I think it’s great.”

“But?”

“But, what,” he said. “I didn’t say but, you said it.”

“You were going to say it. I could see your top lip begin to curl in to form the letter B.”

Half of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “You’re kind of nuts, do you know that?”

I leaned back with a harrumph. “You think everyone is nuts. Maybe you’re the one who needs to have his head checked.”

“No argument here.” He propped his bare feet, complete with ankle monitor, on the edge of my lounge. “So I’ve heard you and Doolittle are going to Cole’s get together.”

“Your sister wants to see Max, and I’m not opposed to a party.”

“Some of Cole’s friends are real asshats. And the girls are pretty damn venomous.”

I looked over at him. “Judge much?”

“It’s not a judgment. It’s a fact. I’ll bet you don’t last one hour with his friends before you go scurrying back to your room.”

“I’m not that delicate. I can handle some venom.” I lifted my head and grinned over at him. “But if you care to make a wager—”

“I never turn down a good bet.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. His sudden nearness flustered me, and I had to consciously control my breathing.

His hungry gaze drifted from my lips down to my thighs as if he could feel my bare skin with his eyes. That paper bag was sounding better and better.

“So what are we wagering?” he asked, looking far more intrigued than he should have, which only flustered me more.

“If I stay longer than an hour, even one minute longer, then you have to give me a ride on your motorcycle.” I’d always been crazy about motorcycles, and this seemed like an opportunity to live out a dream and ride one.

“Easy enough.” He caressed my skin with his heated gaze one more time. “And if you leave before one hour then you have to model for one of my paintings.”

“You’d really want me to pose for you? Wait, would I be naked?”

“Not completely.”

It took me a moment to respond. I would just have to suffer through Cole’s asshat friends for sixty minutes. There was no way I could lose.” I stuck out my hand. “It’s a bet. I better shine up my motorcycle boots.”

“We’ll see.”

Our handshake lingered overlong. I slid my fingers from his grasp and he stood. He fished in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. Then he held it between his thumb and forefinger as he squinted down at me through a thin veil of smoke. His silent stare was enough to heat every inch of my already sunbathed skin. I shifted nervously on the lounge.

“How do you like my new suit? Finley picked it out.”

He continued to look at me as he took a long draw on his cigarette and blew out the smoke. “Once again, Valley, I wasn’t looking at the suit.” He walked away, and I slid my hands beneath my thighs to stop the trembling.

***

Finely tried on eight different outfits for the party before finally deciding on the pair of skinny jeans and top she’d tried on the first time. I, on the other hand, had only one pair of jeans decent enough to wear in front of a large number of people making my wardrobe decision quite simple. Sometimes less is better.

Finley also checked her hair and make-up enough times in the mirror that even I was beginning to question her mascara application.

“You look beyond adorable, Finley. Stop fretting. Besides if Max is as cool as you say, he doesn’t sound like the type who will be turned off if you’re wearing too much lip gloss.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Shit, am I wearing too much lip gloss? I knew I went too crazy with the applicator.” She reached for a tissue, but I grabbed her hand.

“The gloss is fine but something tells me if we spend much more time getting ready, the party will be over.”

She waved that suggestion away. “Cole’s parties last until dawn or until everyone passes out. Whichever comes first.”

“Will Jude be there?” My question immediately solicited a raised eyebrow of interest from Finley.

“Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” I hadn’t mentioned the bet to Finley, and now I was attempting to convince myself that the wager was my only motive behind the question.

“Uh huh, I see.”  A small smile creased her cheek.

“Not every question has a hidden meaning.” I opened the door and ushered her out to the hallway before she had a chance to rethink her bracelets.

“No,” Finley said slyly, “but that one did.”

I decided to ignore her teasing. Music drummed through the house, and it sounded as if a lot of people had already congregated downstairs. There was an actual party room complete with wet bar and pool table, which I suppose should have been expected in a house with an elevator and theater.

One step into the room and I immediately felt out of place. The people gathered around the pool table and wet bar reminded me of the snooty half of my high school, only the snobbery was taken up a notch. My stomach twisted into a nervous knot, and suddenly, just as Jude had predicted, this was the last place I wanted to be.

“Finley!” two girls screamed with fake excitement.

“I hate these two girls,” Finley whispered from the side of her mouth.

Both girls looked as if they’d spent an entire day getting ready for the party, not a hair, eyelash, or fake nail out of place. They hugged Finley with even more overdone drama than they’d put into their greeting. One of the girls, who was passably pretty mostly because of the professional make-up job and expensive haircut, looked at me and made no effort to conceal her lack of approval. The diamond stud in her nose danced a bit while she crinkled her nose and stared down at my jeans.

“Nice vintage jeans,” she said. “Saks Fifth Avenue?”

“Mutli-family yard sale,” I answered. “Third Avenue.”

The girl snorted a derisive chuckle.