was just another cloudless, sunny day in California to Cassidy, but to the women, it was a chance to soak in the sun and ocean breeze. Of course, she couldn’t talk her way out of the beach. She tried, though. It didn’t work and she now sat on the sand, clad in her white and black polka dot bikini and staring out at the shoreline in a daze.
A group of pretty girls gathered nearby—five of them, all perfectly tanned and sculpted in designer bikinis—four blondes and a ginger. They caught Cassidy’s attention not because they were pretty, nor because their swimsuits were killer, but because the ginger chick sat sort of on the outside of the group of blondes. Even though they appeared to all be friends, the redhead didn’t participate as actively in the conversation the others were engaged in. Her bikini was cut a different way—not the standard Brazilian style the others had, but a more covering bottom piece and a top with a flattering empire cut. The way she tucked her shoulder-length crimson hair behind one ear reminded Cassidy of Brynn. Hell, her whole demeanor was all Brynn.
Cassidy wanted to go and talk to her. She could always use a new friend, right? Exactly.
Excusing herself from her present company, she padded through the warm sand toward the group of girls. The four blondes all rose, almost synchronously, and headed toward the water before she even made it to the edge of their towels. The ginger, however, remained behind and smiled warmly up at her when Cassidy offered a friendly “Hello.”
“Hi,” the ginger replied, still smiling.
“I was sitting over there and noticed your bathing suit. It’s great.”
“Oh, thanks. I got it at Ross for twenty bucks. It’s a Vivienne Westwood.”
Was that right? What the heck was Ross and why hadn’t Cassidy ever been there? A designer bathing suit for twenty dollars! What had she been missing? The surprised look on her face must have amused the ginger, because a giggle bubbled up past her lips, and she extended an arm. “I’m Natasha.”
Cassidy reached down and placed her dainty palm in Natasha’s hand, smiling from ear to ear suddenly. “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Cassidy. Nice to meet you.”
“Ditto.”
Before Cassidy could get any further in conversation, one of the blondes called her newfound friend into the water, and Natasha politely excused herself. “My girlfriend apparently wants me to go swim or play chicken—” She giggled. Again. “But check out Ross whenever you get a chance.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
Natasha rose from her spot on the towel and ran off, kicking up sand as she crossed the beach before splashing into the water, leaving Cassidy to return to her mother and grandmother whom were in a deep discussion about the president. Cassidy knew that particular conversation would last quite some time since her grandmother was a die-hard Republican and her mother was the poster child for Democrats. At least it kept her mind off Brynn.
That was, until she thought about not thinking about Brynn, which led her to thinking about Brynn again. Which she did for the remainder of her stay at the beach, their stop at a Mexican place to eat dinner, all through the drive home, and well into the night as they pulled into the driveway, then through her shower, and as she got ready for bed.
This was becoming a pattern, it seemed. Going to bed with thoughts of Brynn darting out the door with no rhyme or reason, followed by feelings of insecurity and self-doubt, and finally, back to Brynn with more unanswered questions.
The worst part was that she couldn’t even confront Brynn about why she’d booked it. Actually, she could ask Brynn, but she wouldn’t out of fear of the answer. It was one thing to think you were a freak for liking girls; it was a-whole-nother to hear it said out loud by the one girl you had somehow begun to fall for.
And round and round her thoughts went until she resolved to remove Brynn from her head and try to get
A group of pretty girls gathered nearby—five of them, all perfectly tanned and sculpted in designer bikinis—four blondes and a ginger. They caught Cassidy’s attention not because they were pretty, nor because their swimsuits were killer, but because the ginger chick sat sort of on the outside of the group of blondes. Even though they appeared to all be friends, the redhead didn’t participate as actively in the conversation the others were engaged in. Her bikini was cut a different way—not the standard Brazilian style the others had, but a more covering bottom piece and a top with a flattering empire cut. The way she tucked her shoulder-length crimson hair behind one ear reminded Cassidy of Brynn. Hell, her whole demeanor was all Brynn.
Cassidy wanted to go and talk to her. She could always use a new friend, right? Exactly.
Excusing herself from her present company, she padded through the warm sand toward the group of girls. The four blondes all rose, almost synchronously, and headed toward the water before she even made it to the edge of their towels. The ginger, however, remained behind and smiled warmly up at her when Cassidy offered a friendly “Hello.”
“Hi,” the ginger replied, still smiling.
“I was sitting over there and noticed your bathing suit. It’s great.”
“Oh, thanks. I got it at Ross for twenty bucks. It’s a Vivienne Westwood.”
Was that right? What the heck was Ross and why hadn’t Cassidy ever been there? A designer bathing suit for twenty dollars! What had she been missing? The surprised look on her face must have amused the ginger, because a giggle bubbled up past her lips, and she extended an arm. “I’m Natasha.”
Cassidy reached down and placed her dainty palm in Natasha’s hand, smiling from ear to ear suddenly. “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Cassidy. Nice to meet you.”
“Ditto.”
Before Cassidy could get any further in conversation, one of the blondes called her newfound friend into the water, and Natasha politely excused herself. “My girlfriend apparently wants me to go swim or play chicken—” She giggled. Again. “But check out Ross whenever you get a chance.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
Natasha rose from her spot on the towel and ran off, kicking up sand as she crossed the beach before splashing into the water, leaving Cassidy to return to her mother and grandmother whom were in a deep discussion about the president. Cassidy knew that particular conversation would last quite some time since her grandmother was a die-hard Republican and her mother was the poster child for Democrats. At least it kept her mind off Brynn.
That was, until she thought about not thinking about Brynn, which led her to thinking about Brynn again. Which she did for the remainder of her stay at the beach, their stop at a Mexican place to eat dinner, all through the drive home, and well into the night as they pulled into the driveway, then through her shower, and as she got ready for bed.
This was becoming a pattern, it seemed. Going to bed with thoughts of Brynn darting out the door with no rhyme or reason, followed by feelings of insecurity and self-doubt, and finally, back to Brynn with more unanswered questions.
The worst part was that she couldn’t even confront Brynn about why she’d booked it. Actually, she could ask Brynn, but she wouldn’t out of fear of the answer. It was one thing to think you were a freak for liking girls; it was a-whole-nother to hear it said out loud by the one girl you had somehow begun to fall for.
And round and round her thoughts went until she resolved to remove Brynn from her head and try to get
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