Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,342

world, although I’ve never left the New England area.

Molly moans, rubbing her flat stomach. “God, what I wouldn’t give for another muffin right now.”

“You’re a fiend.”

“But you still love me.”

“You bet I do. Now go before your…food walks away.”

She shifts her eyes across the street and chews on her lower lip, her cheeks blushing. “Be back in a few, Brook!” she calls out as she runs up the sand. I watch her climb over the short ledge, then hurry across the street, still barefoot.

Once I see that she’s made it to Kelly’s in one piece, I return my attention to my book, immersing myself in the author’s world. To be honest, it’s a world I hope I never have to live in. Now that I’m older and am in more advanced English classes, it seems the reading material has become more mature, as well. I can’t help but feel bad for Hester Prynne and the secret she keeps at the expense of her happiness. I hope I never put myself in a situation where I have to keep my love a secret.

Sweat beads on my forehead as I continue to bask in the sun, losing track of time, which is often the case when I read. So many people I know hate reading. This is probably why Molly and I get along so well. We can hold entire conversations using book quotes and no one would be the wiser.

It’s not until my hair starts to stick to my neck that I put the book down for a moment to tie my long, dark locks into a ponytail. The instant I do, I spy a familiar silhouette heading my way, eyes trained on me, a cockiness about him.

I quickly retrieve my book, burying my nose in it once more in the hopes he doesn’t recognize me. I didn’t have this problem last year. Next to Molly, with her charismatic personality and infectious enthusiasm, I was practically invisible. Now, thanks to the cleavage that no swimsuit can properly hide, everyone’s suddenly noticing me. All the more reason I should keep my cover-up on, just like I tell my dad I do to stop him from worrying. I don’t want to consider what would happen if he drove by and saw me in this bikini he doesn’t even know I own.

“Brooklyn Tanner,” a coy voice croons.

I take a breath, swallowing down my irritation at the interruption, and float my eyes to the source, who’s now commandeered Molly’s chair. “Damian.”

“Looking good.” He winks, but it does nothing for me. Damian Murphy is one of the most popular guys in class. He always has an entourage with him, mostly made up of the popular girls, who fawn over him every time he scores a basket during games or makes a tasteless joke, most with some sort of sexual connotation. He can have anyone he wants, but over the past few months, he seems to have made it his mission to get me to go out with him. “Where’s your hip attachment?”

“You mean my friend?”

“Yeah. It’s rare to see one without the other.”

I flip the page of my book, brushing off his comment. “Not that rare. She has her own life. I have mine. We just enjoy spending time with each other.”

“So much so that you can’t seem to find the time to go out with me?” He cocks a brow, then leans closer. “I normally don’t ask a girl out more than once.” He pauses, considering his words for a moment, furrowing his brow in obvious confusion. “I usually don’t have to. I’ve never had anyone turn down a date with me.”

I grit a smile. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, Damian.”

“Ouch,” he teases. “Beautiful and witty. That’s one killer combination.”

“I’ll be sure to add that to my college applications then.” I return my eyes to the pages, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave. Unfortunately, just like every other time he’s asked me out, he doesn’t.

He’s an attractive guy—sandy blond hair, crystal blue eyes, dazzling smile—but even killer looks can’t diminish his pompous attitude. A year ago, he thought my name was Brenda. Now that I have boobs, he seems to have mustered the brainpower to learn my real name.

Too little, too late. No thank you, Damian.

“Like I’ve told you repeatedly, my father doesn’t want me to date until I’m sixteen.”

“And when will that be?”

“September first, but even then, I’m not sure I want to date.” I attempt to give him the cold