Water splashes up by my hips with each step until I’m a little more than knee deep. I peel her off me, throwing her a few feet away and into the water. She comes up a few seconds later and wipes her face with both hands, pushing her hair out of her eyes which narrow on me.

  Layla walks towards me at a snail’s pace. The water is up to her waist, making it difficult for her to move with any kind of speed. I hold my ground, waiting for her to enact her revenge.

  She does.

  She lunges at me. Her chest presses against mine, arms curling around my neck, and I allow myself to fall backward. My arms scrape against the ground, but there’s enough dirt over the rocks. I don’t think I’m bleeding.

  “That was mean,” Layla says, wrapping her legs around my waist to sit in my lap.

  “Never said I was nice.”

  She laces her fingers around my neck and shakes her head. “You’re the nicest man I know, Josh, and I mean that in the best of ways.”

  My phone vibrates in the cup holder when we’re almost back to the barn. I pull the side-by-side around the side of the barn and wash the mud off before checking the message.

  I must frown because Layla asks, “Is it that chick again? The one from Cowboy’s?”

  She tucks her hands in her back pockets and forces a smile, but I can feel it again. That tension from last night. It thickens with each millisecond I let hang between us and I want it gone.

  “No.” I tilt my phone so she can see the screen. I have nothing to hide. She needs to know that. “Sam’s truck broke down again. He wants to know if I can come get him.”

  “You should go,” she says, her shoulder’s not quite so tense.

  “Are you sure?” I toss my phone onto the side-by-side's bench, then hook my finger through Layla’s belt loop. I pull her close, until we’re toe to toe.

  Layla tucks her hair behind her ear and grins, that beautiful flush of pink covering her cheeks again. “I should be heading home anyway. I know you wanted me to stay the weekend, but I’ve got to get a hold of some donors for my event that’s in a few weeks.”

  I don’t want her to go, but I get it. My job is my life. I respect that hers is, too. Most people our age don’t have a good work ethic. “I want to see you again.”

  “Do you now?” She smirks and sets her hands on my chest.

  I tilt my head down until our foreheads touch. Letting her go is too much, but not knowing if she’ll come back is damn near crippling. I don’t care what it takes, don’t care that an attraction this strong doesn’t make sense; I need Layla in my life. “I do.”

  She presses a chase kiss to my lips then pushes my back, a playful grin in place. “I’m leaving before I give in to whatever this is.”

  “Okay,” I say through a chuckle, not understanding what she means. “Let me walk you to the house to get your things.”

  “No!” Layla holds her hand out to me. “You stay there.” I look at her curiously and she adds, “This is hard, Josh. I want to stay. I want to kiss you and…” Her cheeks flush red again and she bites her lip. “You make me want to do things I’ve only read about in books, and that scares me. So, you stay right where you are. That way, when I get into my car, I’ll stay there and not run back across this grass and rip your shirt off.”

  Ding.

  Josh: What are you doing Saturday?

  My earbud reads the text message as I’m folding the linens from last week’s event. Even though I’ve been busting my ass to keep my grades up this semester, I’m still working for my aunt. Part time, of course, and for the same pathetic excuse of a salary, but money is money.

  I never realized how expensive food is. Or gas for that matter. It’s forty dollars every time I visit Josh. And while I have only been there three times since school started, that’s almost a quarter of my allowance each month. I set the clean tablecloth in a Sterilite tub along with the others from last week's event and swipe my phone off the table.

  Me: My brother and his buddies are flying into Orlando for a guy’s weekend. I was going to hang with them Saturday.😞.

  Josh: That blows. Bret and I are going to be at City Walk.

  Me: I’m sorry 😣.

  Josh: You're killing me. I miss you.

  Me: You do?

  Josh: Yeah. This weekend wasn’t the same without you.

  Me: You’re sweet.

  Josh: Not sweet. Just honest.

  The rest of the day drags. I finish putting away the linens, organize the vases in our decor-closet, and hand write forty thank you cards; all while waiting for Josh to text me again.

  He doesn’t and, as I collapse onto the twin mattress in my studio apartment, I can’t shake the feeling of disappointment. We’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, texting during the week and hanging out on the ranch on the weekends. Although Aunt Tricia had an event last Saturday, so I wasn’t able to drive down.

  I grab my phone from beside my pillow and hit the video chat app. We’ve never talked like this, but the ache I have in the pit of my stomach to see him is too strong.

  The screen rings three times before Josh answers. He squints against the sun, the shadow of his hand around the camera as he tries to see me on the screen. “Layla?”

  “Is this a bad time?” Of course it’s a bad time. He’s probably working on the farm, milking a cow or something. Outside of feeding the horses. I don’t actually know what Josh does for a living.

  “No, it’s fine. Hang on a sec.” Josh sets his phone on the grass and I can see him pulling off a pair of gloves. He drops them to the ground then picks me back up. “Hey.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Fixing the fence. Some kids cut the wire to ride through on their four-wheelers last night.” He turns the camera around so I can see the tire tracks and a roll of barbed wire he’s tacking to the wooden posts. “They only cut one section, which isn’t bad, but it still sucks. I got lucky the cows were on the other half of the field.”

  “I’m sorry.” I roll to sit cross-legged and prop my phone against the pillow. My heart races in my chest and all of the sudden it’s too hot in here. The flowy blouse and tank top I’ve worn all day squeezes my chest like vice. I swallow the knot in my throat and try to focus on our conversation. It’s hard, though, with beads of sweat dripping down Josh’s brow. He raises his tan, muscular, arm and wipes the droplets away. Focus! “Does that happen often?”

  Josh smirks and shakes his head. “Nah, maybe twice a year. How was your day?”

  “Mine?” I pull my overshirt off as he shifts to sit in the shade of the side-by-side. Hopefully, he won’t think this is some strip-tease call. Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of him. Jesus, what is wrong with me?

  I lay on my belly, the tight tank and my push-up bra making the girls look fantastic from this angle, and then grab my phone again. “It was boring. I had to put everything that we used at the event last weekend away, catalog it to make sure nothing was lost, then hand write thank you notes.”

  “Sounds tedious.”

  We stare at each other, neither of us knowing what to say for a minute. The silence is awkward and heavy. I wish I was back in Fellsmere with him, but by the time I get through rush hour traffic and make my way there, it would be almost nine. Too late to turn back around and I have an eight a.m. class tomorrow, so staying the night is out of the question .

  “I’ve got to finish up before the sun goes down,” he finally says, rising to his feet.

  I force a smile because as much as I don’t want to admit it, I miss Josh. Despite the hiccup at Cowboy’s a few weeks ago, I had a great time with him, and the two other times I’ve gone back have been even better.

  If Colson wasn’t coming to town, I’d probably meet Josh and his brother at City Walk. I haven’t been there yet, but a few of the girls I work with say it’s a blast. “Right, of course.”

  “Hey, Layla?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for calling. I’m glad I got to see your face.”

  A swarm of butterflies flurry inside me. I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt anything so crazy, wonderful, and terrifying all at once. “’Bye, Josh.”

  “Goodbye, beautiful.”

  “There’s my baby sister!” Colson holds his arms out and swoops me into a hug, rocking me from side to side. The embrace is awkward. We aren't a lovey family. Growing up, the best we could hope for from our parents was a nod of approval and, if we were lucky, words of praise. With that as our model, Cole and I have shaken hands a total of four times. As for hugs, this is a first.

  Cole pulls back, just as the hug goes from awkward to uncomfortable, and I smell vodka on his breath. It’s not a subtle hint either. He reeks of it, like the plane was filled with it and he went swimming. “Are you drunk?”

  “Is there any other way to be on a guy’s weekend?” Ashley, my ex-boyfriend, inquires. He’s in the middle of a group of Cole’s friends; guys I recognize but don’t know by name.

  I school my face, forcing the discomfort of being around him again behind a pleasant smile. Breaking off our wedding was the best decision I've ever made, but I’d be lying if I said the feelings were mutual.

  Ashley may be a conniving, cheating scumbag, but for some reason he didn’t want to let me go. He never loved me, so I think it’s a possession thing. I was supposed to be his and I think the thought of me being with someone else irks him.

  But I couldn’t do it. Not after I caught Sharon Deese, a waitress at the country club, on her knees in the girl’s bathroom. Ashley smirked when I found them, likely wanting me to see a glimpse of our future. I would have puked right there, but he was in my bathroom. The one space that’s supposed to be a sanctuary in life and he had invaded it.

  I ran out with tears brewing in my eyes and slammed into my mother. I told her what I’d seen and begged her to call off the marriage.

  Her reaction?

  She popped a Prozac from the tiny bottle that lives in every purse she owns, and chased it with her vodka tonic, saying, “We marry for power, not for love, chickpea. Ashley will have his indiscretions and so will you. Dry your eyes and come back to the table with a smile.”

  That was the day I decided to forge my own future. I would not be a pawn in my parents’ business and I damn sure wasn’t going to marry that pig.

  “You would encourage this unbecoming behavior.” I roll my eyes at Ashley and smooth the invisible wrinkles on my dress. I walk beside my brother as we make our way to baggage claim, trying my hardest to ignore my ex. “What’s the plan for this weekend?”

  “Boobs and booze.” Ashley smirks, knowing he’s working my last nerve. He raises his hand and one of the guys high fives him.

  I scrunch my nose and shake my head. I could care less what Ashley does or with whom, but I’d rather claw my eyes out with a spork than spend the weekend at a strip club, watching girls fawn over my brother. “That sounds…”

  Horrible.

  Atrocious.

  Like a living nightmare.

  “Relax.” Cole chuckles and throws his arm over my shoulder. “That’s tomorrow. Tonight is your night, little sister. We’re going to hit up City Walk. Drink, dance, and listen to music.”

  I perk up at the possibility of running into Josh tonight. Cole probably won’t like that I’m hanging out with anyone of the opposite sex, and there’s a chance Ashley will go full on douchebag. I don’t care. After an hour or so with the guys, I’m gonna text Josh and see if he wants to meet up.

  “What are you smiling at?” Ashley asks in his all too familiar, demanding tone.

  I ignore him and pull out my phone to search what City Walk has to offer. Tonight might actually be fun.

  We squish around a table meant for four. Colson on one side of me, his arm thrown over my chair, and Ashely on the other. The guys, whose names I’ve picked up as being Jackson, Ambrose, Chris, and Austin, pull chairs from surrounding tables to sit with us.

  Coles chugs another beer, his eighth one since arriving at this bar, and stands. He walks to one of the Piano Guys at the front of the room and drops a few bills into the jar, then hands over another song request. Instead of returning to the table, Cole stumbles towards the back of the establishment, likely to the bathroom.

  I watch him, unease simmering inside me. Something is going on. I’ve never seen Cole drunk before. Tipsy, yes, but he’s hitting a new level tonight.

  Two songs play and Cole still hasn’t come back to the table. I peek around the room and decide that since he isn’t anywhere in sight, I should wait for him by the bathrooms.

  After ten minutes of standing in the hallway near the restrooms, I’m shaking with nervous energy. Cole was drunk, really drunk. He could be passed out on the bathroom floor and his buddies wouldn’t notice, let alone care.

  I wait until another song ends, then decide I’m going in. No one has gone in or out of the boy’s bathroom for at least two songs now. I reach for the handle, but a figure coming down the hall causes me to hesitate. I frown, recognizing the man and cross my arms. “It’s about time.”

  “Why? Have you been waiting for me?” Ashley chuckles and grabs my wrists, pulling me into him. I’ve kept my distance as much as I could tonight, but this close, I’m choking on his cologne.

  “Ew. No.” I press my palms against his chest to add some space between us, but he just laughs and holds me tighter. “I’m worried about Cole. You should go into the bathroom and check on him.”

  Ashley dips his mouth to my neck and bile creeps up my throat. All I can think about is that girl. The memory of him with his hands behind his head as she bobbed up and down on her knees is etched into my brain. It makes me sick, physically sick.

  “Colson is back at the table.” Ashley sinks his teeth into my skin. He bites down like a drunk vampire, pressing too hard in all the wrong places.

  I tilt my head, pinching my shoulder up and push against Ashley’s chest again, but he’s not getting the picture. “Stop it.”

  An unwelcome hand falls to my thigh and slips it underneath my dress. I grip Ashley’s wrist and push it away, but it's back on my inner thigh before I can take a solid breath.

  Fear ignites in my veins. Ashley is drunk and not used to being told no. I step my defense up and grab his hair to yank his mouth off my skin. “I said stop!”

  Flames dance behind a cloudy haze in Ashley’s eyes. He slams me against the wall, his lips assaulting mine.

  I bite his tongue as soon as it pushes its way between my teeth. The bitter taste of iron stains my tongue.

  Ashley grunts and rears back. He doesn’t hesitate before slapping me across the face. “Fucking bitch!”

  For a moment, I’m stunned stupid. Ashley may be insensitive and unfaithful, but he’s never been a dive. Not physically. I reach up and touch my cheek. The sting of his hand on me lingers, but it’s nothing compared to the pain pooling in my eyes. I will not cry.

  “Hey!” a deep voice booms from behind me.

  Josh storms up and grabs Ashley by the shirt collar. He pushes him up against the wall. Ashley chuckles, too drunk to realize that things for him took a turn for the worst. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Josh slams Ashley’s back against the wall again. Cole runs into the room, two minutes too late, and grips the back of Josh’s shirt. He pulls backwards and extends his arms between the two to keep them separated. Josh puffs his chest, but the man I’m assuming to be his brother claps a hand on Josh’s shoulder.

  Josh stands, arms crossed over a Metallica T-shirt, beside a bigger, blonde-haired version of him. There’s no denying these two are brothers. The similarities are so prominent, had I not known Bret was a few years older, I’d have sworn they were fraternal twins.

  “Layla?” Colson asks, his hooded gaze fixating on me before bouncing to his friend, and the two boys behind me. “Are you okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Ashley answers. He reaches for my arm but I twist and move to stand beside Josh. The thought of Ashley touching me again makes me tremble. I cross my arms, holding them tight against my chest, and dig my nails into my sides. Everything will be alright.

  “You must be the brother. I’m Josh.” If these were better circumstances, I think Josh would extend his hand, however, they stay clenched tight beside his body.

  Cole arches a brow, unimpressed. “And I care because?”

  I don’t think about my next words, they flow like a faucet and are out of me before I can take them back. Maybe it’s because I want Josh to be my boyfriend or, maybe I want Ashley to back off. Either way, the damage is done. I just hope Josh rolls with it. “Because he’s my boyfriend.”

  Without missing a beat, Josh extends his arm around my waist and pulls me close. He turns his gaze to Ashley, staring him down. “And you are?”

  “The fiancé.”

  “Ex-fiancé,” I add. Outside of a vague conversation back in March, I have purposely avoided anything Ashley related. I didn’t think it mattered because we weren’t together anymore. Besides, Josh had a past before me that I’ve never asked about, and that door went both ways.

  “Semantics, my love.”

  “Last I checked, ex means you aren’t together,” Bret, Josh’s brother, interjects. He crosses his arms, mimicking Josh’s stance.

  “I don’t know what the fuck is going on.” Cole pauses to look at Josh and Bret. “Or why you two are here, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to spend time with my sister.”

  Ashley smirks and saunters back into the bar lounge. I shudder, feeling phantom lips on my neck and rub the saliva away. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Cole, but I don’t trust Ashley.”

  “You’re his fiancée, Layla. If he wants to touch you, he can. It’s his right.”

  He saw.

  Colson saw me struggle to push Ashley away, probably heard me yelling “no,” and he did nothing.

  Ashley violated me with his mouth and would have with his hand if Josh hadn’t shown up. Just because we used to be together doesn’t make it okay. Together or not, when a girl says stop, you stop! Cole doesn’t even acknowledge me, acting as if he hadn't heard me at all