COMPLETED | Lexi Woodley doesn't want a relationship. After her last relationship left her emotionally scarred, she has decided to steer clear of all things 'love' for the time being... then comes Misha - quiet, secretive, and incredibly gorgeous.
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Steam lazily curls around me as I use my foot to nudge the temperature ever-so-slightly hotter. I'm sitting in my bathtub, a bottle of champagne lightly clasped between my fingertips. Unlike several weeks ago, I'm not pointlessly drinking away my feelings in my yoga pants. Today, I'm preparing for a wedding.
I have a couple of hours to kill before Cassidy comes over to help me get ready, so I decided to de-stress with a hot bath and a bottle of Korbel. I sink lower into the tub, allowing the water to encompass my chest. A tendril of hair drifts across my cheek, carried by the steam. I blow it away and take another sip from the bottle I'm holding. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the white porcelain tiles, and let my mind wander.
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It's hot. Humid. The warmth of the summer air is almost suffocating, but that's what makes days like this feel perfect. My bare feet drag across the wooden planks of the porch as the wide swing sways gently back and forth. A tall redhead steps out of the ranch-style house, and struts toward me carrying two glasses of lemonade. We had decided that celebrating Independence Day in Texas with Dakota's family would be fun, since I had never met them.
It's a beautiful day, aside from the heat. A slight breeze ruffles through my hair occasionally, and the condensation from the glass I'm holding drips onto my thighs, cooling me down. I normally wouldn't like having so much skin exposed, but Dakota insisted that while in Texas, I should dress the part - hence, the very short denim cut offs and an American flag tank top that is almost too thin to be considered an actual piece of clothing. There's cowboy boots around here somewhere, but they hurt my feet. If Dakota's cousins are any indication, it's socially acceptable to be barefoot around here, anyway. Dakota takes the seat next to me on the swing, unfortunately blocking the breeze that was filtering through the porch.
I slightly lean in as he kisses my cheek, and sit up straighter when I notice his mother trail out from the doorway. She's a very tall, beautiful woman. She looks like a model, in a very country sort of way. Long, tight red curls are clipped back in a wave that falls halfway down her back, revealing freckles scattered across her shoulders. She claims a rocking chair that sits adjacent to the swing. Sunglasses adorn her face, hiding the sharp green eyes that scrutinized me closely when we were first introduced. She knew I wasn't good enough for her son, but she was polite enough to not dig into my background - not until dinner was served that evening, at least. I'm amazed at her attire, too. She is wearing a white dress that is somehow casual enough to grace the front porch rocking chair, but would be entirely appropriate at a corporate business meeting as well. To say the very least, I'm incredibly intimidated by her.
"Darling, I do wish you would take advantage of the air conditioning inside the house. You're absolutely wilting out here in this heat," she drawls, her words as soft as the hydrangea petals surrounding the porch.
"Oh, I really don't mind," I respond, attempting to stay as neutral as possible. I haven't yet decided if she is somebody to love or fear, so I'm hoping that my passive responses will be interpreted as agreeable.
