“Yesterday is old news?” I attempted to sound innocent, but my tone had a bite to it. I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Yup. Which means by tomorrow, you’ll be old news, too,” she said.
I clenched my jaw.
“How about some volleyball?” Simon asked, clearly trying to diffuse the situation. He stood, arms folded on top of the pool’s edge. Even though he was addressing all of us, his gaze was trained on me.
I nodded.
“Lovely.” Simon smiled. “Livi, you and Trent can play against me and Chloe.” He held his hand out to me, and I approached.
Sitting on the edge and dipping my feet into the water—no surprise that it was the perfect level of warm—I allowed him to help me into the water. As soon as I was in, I expected Simon to release me. But he didn’t. He kept his hands on my waist.
Behind me, I heard what could only be described as a growl. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge. Everything inside of me wanted to turn around, to look at Trent, but I fought against the urge.
A moment later, Trent was in the water. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses, which was odd, and turned away. But then again, he was a tad odd.
Olivia joined him, an overblown plastic ball in her hands. “We get the first serve,” she announced.
“We volley for serve,” Simon said.
“Not today.” Oliva smiled sweetly, then tossed the ball to Trent.
He caught it with ease, then lifted it and hit it over the net. Only, he didn’t just hit it. He smacked it. Hard. The sting of his palm against the plastic made me cringe. Simon lunged in front of me and hit the ball back over the net.
Trent lobbed it back, but this time, it flew straight at me. I put my hands up and slapped at the ball—not out of skill but out of fear of being hit in the face. The ball barely made it over the net before Olivia wailed on it.
After a couple minutes of steady volleying, Simon scored the first point. He rushed at me, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me out of the water. I laughed. But I didn’t miss the deadly scowl Trent threw at him. I was starting to think that guy had some serious anger issues.
Celebration over, Simon served the ball. Trent all but shoved Olivia out of the way, and I swore he punched the ball over the net.
For a while, it was a good-natured game of volleyball, with Trent and Simon laughing and shouting harmless insults at each other. Eventually, though, our friendly game of two-on-two had turned into a cutthroat game of one-on-one.
I watched Trent closely, the way his muscles tensed and spasmed with each hit. But more than that, he was so… graceful. Which was nearly impossible in chest high water, but he somehow pulled it off. And he moved fast, too, which again was nearly impossible under these conditions, but he did it. Without missing a single shot.
“You two about done?” Olivia stood off to the side, arms crossed, pouting.
For once, I agreed with her. I hadn’t come here to get ignored while the guys tried to prove who was the better pool volleyball player. Thankfully, my cell phone rang, saving me. I moved toward the steps.
“This is the dumbest party ever.” Olivia hoisted herself out of the pool, wrapped a towel around her waist, and stormed inside.
Good riddance. From the corner of my eye, I saw the ball heading straight toward me, but I wasn’t fast enough. The wet plastic smashed against my face, and the hard spout used to blow it up scraped across my cheek.
“Ow,” I said.
Pain radiated across my cheek and up to my eye. Tears burned my throat, and I was powerless to stop them from falling. I closed my eyes against the stinging pain. Trent reached me first—no idea how when Simon was literally only a couple inches away from me.
“Are you okay?” Trent’s voice was full of concern. Gently, he pulled my hand from my face, his thumb brushing across my knuckles.
Another dizzying wave of déjà vu hit me, and I swayed, afraid I’d slip and end up underwater.
“Chloe, love, are you okay?” Simon sounded so far away despite standing right next to me.
“She needs some ice for her cheek.” Trent’s words were tight, like he was forcing them out through clenched teeth.
I couldn’t be sure, though, because my eye was watering, and my vision was blurred.
Trent guided me out of the pool and onto a chaise lounge while Simon hurried inside for ice. Trent sat on the chair opposite me. My hand was still clasped in his, and I didn’t even try to pull away.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Do you feel sick? Dizzy? Maybe you have a concussion.” He removed his sunglasses.
“I don’t have a concussion.”
“Are you sure? You’re not a doctor. You could be wrong.” He shifted so his leg was in between mine, which brought our bodies closer.
“You’re not a doctor, either,” I said with a bit too much snark.
He reached up to touch my face, and I flinched. He let his hand drop to my knee, but he leaned closer, studying me. And I did the same. His eyes were a stormy blue, but there was a tenderness in his gaze.
I glanced down to where both of his hands now rested on my knees. Long, slender fingers. Perfectly manicured nails. Strong, self-assured touch. I know these hands.
A nagging hum built in my head, growing louder by the second, but it was indecipherable. There was something about Trent. Something… familiar. But I couldn’t pinpoint it, and it was starting to drive me crazy.
“You look so much like someone I know, and I can’t shake this feeling that I know you. Every time I’m around you, it’s like déjà vu,” I whispered. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them
