Origami Heart (Book 3 - DP series - COMPLETE)

15. Pepsi

Alec returns a moment later and takes a seat. He's easy enough to talk to and we spend the next few minutes discussing his latest job before he decides the evening heat is too much and jumps into the pool. In my opinion, it's perfect. The thought of jumping into the water now is about as appealing as watching Mike chat up the brunette in the corner. Is he really so clueless as to how that might make me feel or does he honestly think I'm not here? It's hard to know because he hasn't bothered to move from his seat even once since arriving.

"Hey," a voice says, settling down in the seat Alec just vacated.

I turn to find Andy lounging comfortably beside me, water dripping from the ends of his hair and trickling over his naked chest.

"Hi." I can't help but perk up around Andy. Other than Gavin and Chris, who are both busy grilling up burgers and chatting with a couple guys milling around the patio, Andy's the only one I'm entirely comfortable with here.

"Thought you'd like to know that Jessie won't be showing up," he informs me. "Gavin doesn't know the details about you two—figured you'd want to give him that info—but I warned him against inviting him."

"Oh." I blink before letting my face soften into a grateful smile. "Thanks, Andy." I'm only now realizing that that should have been a real fear, but my mind's been so distracted I'd totally forgot about him. "You left the pool to tell me that?..." A teasing smile lifts my lips. "Do I seem uptight or something?"

"Eh," he shrugs. "I mean, it does sort of look like you sat on a pine cone... or a vertical stick, but—"

I slug him in the shoulder, evoking an exaggerated grunt from his throat.

"You didn't even let me finish," he gripes. "But... you still look stunning. Speaking of, when'd you decide to go for brown?" He lifts a finger to play with a chunk of my hair, dragging it across my face in the most obnoxious way. It feels like I've just walked face-first into a cobweb and I swat his hand away, tucking the strands back into place.

"A while ago," I answer, shrugging one shoulder. "Just wanted something a little new. Why? Do you hate it?"

There are a full two seconds of hesitation before he cocks his head to the side, gaze roving over my hair with a critical eye.

"If I'd met you like this," he says, picking up a lock of my hair again, "then I'd think nothing of it. It suits you, but I'll always think of you as my blonde buddy."

"So you prefer me as a blonde?" I infer.

"Not necessarily," he tells me, scratching this eyebrow with his thumb, eyes squinted as if searching for the perfect words to convey his thoughts. "So," he begins, as if ready to dive into a deep explanation, "my dad used to always have a mustache or goatee when I was growing up and every once in awhile—maybe once every year or two—he'd randomly shave it all off. I just remember thinking, 'Wow, dad, your face looks naked,' but I'd eventually get used to it and think nothing of it."

"You're comparing my hair to your dad's naked face?" I snort, using the back of my hand to hide my smile.

"No—yes," he sighs. "Lindsey, you look great, okay? Blonde is just how I always picture you. It's not a preference... just a feature that pops into my head when I think about you."

"Aw," I coo. "You think of me?"

"You sound shocked," he frowns. "Does this mean you never think of me?"

He doesn't give me chance to respond.

"I'm wounded," he chokes, flicking an invisible tear from his cheek. "And all this time I thought you were head-over-heels in desperate love with me. I'm gonna go drown in the pool now." He starts to stand but I yank him back down by the arm, producing a deep chuckle from his throat.