"You're the worst kind of obsession, Jolene. My obsession. One I can't seem to find a cure for and if I'm being honest, I'm not sure I ever want to find one."
***
My initial plan is to get far away from here. I emphasize on the word 'initial', becau...
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JOLENE'S POV
I lie on my stomach, the pebbles beneath the thick fabric of my beach towel still pushing into my skin but I don't mind.
Steve texted me during my shift at the convenience store earlier today asking me to meet them at the lake at three pm. Them. Meaning that Buchanan will be there, for sure.
So here I am, waiting for them to arrive even though they're forty-five minutes late, re-reading that same line of my book for the fifth time because I can't even focus with him on my mind. I haven't been thinking straight for the past seven months anyway.
I finally hear footsteps on the shingle and my heart is racing. God, I've never been so nervous. Not even when Steve sat down next to me in science class for the first time in 8th grade. And that says a lot about my level of nervousness.
I move into a sitting position and put my hand as a visor to shield my eyes from the sun as I watch them approach me.
Steve walks to me with a big smile on his face while Buchanan is frowning. Is it because of the sunlight or is he scowling at me? Yeah, he's definitely frowning at me.
"What's up, beautiful," Steve says as he leans down and kisses the crown of my head. I smile, but nothing happens in my stomach like it used to. I push the flicker of deception away and I rise on my feet.
"Hey," I wave at Buchanan, hoping for a reaction from him. Anything.
He simply acknowledges me with a glance from head to toe and I'm two seconds away from asking him what's his problem, but then his gaze settles on my chest.
Very classy, perv.
But why does my heart flip and my clit throb as he licks his bottom lip? Why does my skin burn even hotter than under a midday sun when I imagine his tongue all over me?
He's the one to take his gaze off me first -well, off my tits- and I shake my head, hoping that my thoughts clear when he's not staring at me. They don't, because Buchanan takes off his t-shirt in one swift movement, revealing his chiseled abs and perfect smooth skin. I didn't imagine he would be this fit beneath that hoodie last Christmas...
And now I'm the perv gawking at him with drool in the corner of my mouth.
Better and better.
I shake my head and refocus my gaze on my best friend.
"You're late," I say to him.
"Are we?" He tries so hard to hide that smile I struggle to stay in character. I'm supposed to be angry. I've been waiting for them for an hour and they arrived like they were right on time. "Sorry. Ladies were waiting for us outside of the locker rooms after practice to sign them autographs and you know, we're very nice guys. We couldn't let them down. Don't you think it would be rude to do so?"
"You're just being cocky, Steven Rogers," I say as I cross my arms on my chest.
"Ouch," Steve winces. "Full name. I'm in big trouble, ain't I?"
