Flower in the Flame (The Scattered Series - Book #1)

Chapter Six

6 | Nadia Spencer

Benjamin Grover holds up a pair of red laced underwear between his thumbs and index fingers. He gives the lingerie a light shake. "Well?" His brow is cocked expectantly.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I snatch the underwear from him, study them. "These aren't that bad." I hold the red lace above my head as though that would allow me to see them better. Out the corner of my eye, I can see Grover shrug, but it's far too obvious he's trying to hide how utterly pleased with himself he is.

"I know, Spencer. You see," Whenever he says 'you see' whoever is listening is in for some stupid story or cocky claim, "I've spent a lot of time with women. I know what a good pair of panties look like." Panties. Is he 15?

"Shut up, Ben. No one wants to hear that."

Abruptly, he lifts a finger, pointing it to the ceiling, "Actually, many people want to hear that. I know for a fact there's hundreds of women who'd like to know just a snippet about what I get up to with my ladies."

I shake him off, dismissing my friend with the wave of my hand. 

Maybe Ben is my best friend, because I can go months without seeing him, and yet when we do see each other it's as if we've never been apart. He annoys the hell out of me, so much so I want to kick him in the back of the knees and watch him fold, but I love him.

We wander the store, moving from the lingerie section after I'd picked out a few nice bras. I'm sure Carter is pissed that I'm out alone with Ben, but he will have to get over himself. I'm not going to sacrifice my friendship for a man who would not go to the end of the world for me.

Those kind of men only exist in fairy tales.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

"This pool is heated!" Ben shouts at the top of his lungs. He'd just jumped in and is now treading water at the far end. Steam rises up off the water. I'm not surprised its heated, not one bit. Following suit, I jump in, tucking myself up into a ball and squeezing my eyes shut. When I resurface, Ben is rubbing water from his eyes.

He swims to me, smirking, and flicks water in my direction before he comes to a stop. "Want to know what I think?" Probably not, Ben, all you do is talk shit. "No." My reply is clipped and I give it because I know he's going to tell me anyway. "I think you should invite me over here all the time."

I laugh aloud, shaking my head. "I'm not going to be here all the time. Hopefully, we're going home next month." Ben doesn't like that one bit, but as fast as his smile dies with a downward twitch, it's back again. "You'll be back soon; you'll miss this place. This house with a heated pool." I will certainly miss this place.

Gently kicking my legs to keep me above the surface, I lift my hand to push my brown hair back. The chlorine of the pool will mess with the dye, I'll have to wash it out after this swim. In the high-pressure shower. With Madeline's shampoo which smells like cotton candy. Okay, I swore I wouldn't rely on her stuff, but damn her shower products smell so good.

Ben presses his palms flush to the side of the pool and hauls himself out. Something in his demeanour has changed, his head is dipped like a sheepish Labrador. "I have work tonight, Spence. I'll head off now," Grabbing his towel, he rubs it over his face so violently I wouldn't be surprised to see burn marks on his cheeks when he lowers it.

Tying his blue towel around his hips, Ben salutes me good-bye and heads out. He has to shoulder past Carter to get by. Glowering Carter who just scared off my friend.

My boyfriend's head is dipped in such a way that a shadow has cast over his hazel-brown eyes. The eyes which are nothing like the honest, warm of Billie's green eyes. His are cold and intense. "Evening, Carter." We haven't spoken since his dad gave him that little pep talk.

He watches me for so long its painful and then he turns away. "Carter." I climb out the pool. He doesn't turn around, but he doesn't walk away. "I didn't mean for last night to go the way it did. I'm just so..." I don't know what to tell him. That I'm tired of his empty love and his selfish habits. I should scream at him, I want to. I want to tell him I'm sick of this conditional love, that he's too selfish to ever be someone's lover. The words never come. They dissolve into nothing.

"So what, Nadia?" He pivots to face me. My boyfriend's expression is so blank and passive that I don't recognise him anymore. He's not the man who used to take me by the hand, kiss my knuckles one by one and tell me I am the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. 

I don't answer him for so long, I don't want to answer. His lips are pursed in a fine line, brows set firmly. He has no right to be this way with me. This is his own fault.

You, Nadia Ortiz, will never let someone's demons get you.

My mother would have dipped her head and apologised to Dan. My mother did everything she could to stop me becoming the woman she was. "I'm so sick of this, Carter." That has him taken aback. He's still as I get out the pool, wrap a towel around myself and brush past him. 

"Coffee, Nadia?" Billie offers as I walk past him and I say nothing in return. I'm not in the mood for that confusing asshole either. I can hear him sigh as I'm walking up the stairs, but I could care less. Carter must be in the kitchen now, scoffing about me to his father. I pause on the stairs, but I don't hear a word uttered from Billie Joe. 

Hermit crabs grow. They grow and they grow until their shell becomes a discomfort, a nuisance, a thing to shuck off and discard so that they can find a larger shell, a prettier shell.

I think humans are much like hermit crabs, except we outgrow each other.

If I am stuck in Carter's shell any longer, I might crumble.