“Ow!” Owen Carlyle grunted as a bagel hit him, hard, square in the center of his broad shoulders. He whirled around and furrowed his blond eyebrows at the swimmers hanging out on the steps of the Y. Scrawny Chadwick Jenkins and linebacker-size Ken Williams smiled back at him angelically, as if they were choirboys at St. Patrick’s Cathedral rather than testosterone-laced high schoolers.
“Quit it, okay?” Owen grumbled, looking away from them and toward the gridlocked Second Avenue traffic. Owen was all for swim team bonding, particularly before their first meet of the season. But it was a little embarrassing to be surrounded by these guys when they were acting like Ritalin-pumped kindergarteners. Especially when his new girlfriend, Kelsey, was supposed to meet him any moment.
“Hey baby.”
Owen whirled around and saw Kelsey walking toward him. It had been pouring all morning, but by early afternoon the rain had finally devolved into a misty light drizzle. Kelsey’s strawberry blond hair was slightly damp, as if she’d toweled off after a shower, and her pink rubber rain boots matched her fitted pink trench coat, belted loosely at her tiny waist. From a distance, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Owen’s mind started to work overtime.
Right, just his mind.
Every time he saw Kelsey, Owen’s heart thudded hard in his chest. He’d felt it ever since he first saw her, back in July, at a party in Nantucket. He’d been hanging at the outskirts of one of the typical summer beach parties, and she’d come with some friends from the Cape, on vacation from New York. They’d seen each other at the same time, and by the end of the night, they’d wound up on the other side of the beach, losing their virginities to each other. It was kind of wild, but also the most romantic night of Owen’s life. When he moved to New York a couple months later, he kept hoping to run into her. And in a ridiculous twist of fate, he had. On the first day of school Rhys Sterling, the St. Jude’s swim team captain and Owen’s new friend, introduced Owen to Kelsey—as his girlfriend. A few weeks and one bloody nose later, Owen had lost a friend and gained a girlfriend. He’d never been happier.
Or more Shakespearian?
Kelsey tapped Owen on the temple with a slim, pale peach–polished fingernail. “Hello?” she asked, acting mock-hurt at his spaciness.
“Sorry!” Owen quickly tore his thoughts away from fantasy Kelsey. The real thing was so much better. He pulled her to him, rubbing his hands up and down her back. He planted his mouth lightly on hers. Her lip gloss tasted like Swedish fish.
Behind them, the guys started whistling and cheering. Owen reluctantly broke apart from Kelsey and glared at his teammates.
“God, you guys are so lame,” Kelsey called out good-naturedly, sticking out her tongue at the team. Owen kept grinning like an idiot. When Kelsey was here, everything was just better. Of course, there was the ever-present nagging feeling of guilt that he’d totally screwed up his best friend’s life.
There’s always something….
“I missed you today. I was thinking about you,” Kelsey whispered, playing with a delicate silver flower-shaped necklace that landed in the center of her chest. Drops of rain gave her skin a dewy, glowy look, and Owen wished they were in his flannel-covered bed instead of the middle of the street. He tore his gaze away from the hint of cleavage and instead locked it on her coral-colored lips. God, she was sexy.
He pulled Kelsey closely to him again, nuzzling his nose into the top of her honey-colored, slightly damp hair.
“Fresh roasted nuts!” the street vendor on the corner hawked. Behind him, the swim team guys snickered as if it was the most amusing thing they’d ever heard. Owen pulled away from Kelsey in frustration.
“Let’s take a walk,” he suggested, flicking his gaze back and forth as if he were a spy on lookout. Ninety-second Street was pretty empty, with only one woman hurriedly walking her slobbering black Lab past each fenced-in tree.
“Okay. But I don’t want you to be late to the meet.” Kelsey bit her lip. Owen smiled, loving how concerned she was. It was nice to feel taken care of.
“I won’t be,” he said definitively, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. He caressed the well-worn silver surface of her Tiffany ID bracelet, memorizing the grooves in the loopily engraved letters KAT. It was the bracelet Kelsey had left on the Nantucket beach that summer. Owen had brought it to New York with him and used to sleep with it under his pillow, trying to somehow conjure Kat, his dream girl. He hadn’t known then that K. A. T. were her initials: Kelsey Addison Talmadge. The mystery behind her name somehow suited her, the way she’d just appeared in his life.
As soon as they rounded the corner, out of sight of the swim team boys, he gently pushed Kelsey against the redbrick wall of the Y and leaned in to kiss her. He didn’t even care if it was in broad daylight. After weeks of having to keep their desire a secret, he and Kelsey could finally be together. He could feel her long eyelashes against his cheek and she just felt so good and—
“Classy, Carlyle!” A voice interrupted Owen’s reverie. He broke away from Kelsey, wiping his mouth self-consciously with the back of his hand. Walking up the street, jauntily swinging his maroon Speedo St. Jude’s swim team bag in one hand and stroking a full blond beard with the other, was Hugh Moore, a fellow junior and varsity swimmer. While all the swim team guys had grown ridiculous facial hair as part of a pact, Hugh was the only member who hadn’t eventually shaved. He’d kept the beard because it made him look a few years older and got him into the divey bars that peppered Second Avenue without an ID.
“Hey Hugh,” Owen mumbled, and turned back to Kelsey. He ran his fingers through Kelsey’s hair and leaned in toward her. He kissed her neck and held the small of her back, not caring if Hugh was there, probably recording the whole thing on his iPhone to upload to YouTube. Perv. He pressed his body against hers, and she pressed eagerly back. They were kissing passionately, and Owen had practically forgotten where he was, when he heard an awkward throat-clearing sound from Hugh. Annoyed, he looked up.
There, rounding the corner, was Rhys Sterling. His maroon St. Jude’s blazer was wrinkled and his face looked drawn and gray. His broad shoulders were slumped, and he didn’t even try to avoid the puddles of rain on the sidewalk.
Hugh doubled back and clapped a hand on Rhys’s shoulder, propelling him past Owen and Kelsey. “Ready to kick Oriole ass, dude?” Hugh asked jovially.
Rhys squirmed away from Hugh’s meaty hand and stood, rooted to the sidewalk. He knew Hugh was trying to distract him from the scene in front of him. As if he could possibly forget what he’d seen: his former girlfriend and his former friend, together. Kelsey’s strawberry blond hair tumbled down her back, and she was smiling. It felt like she was smiling just to spite him.
“Ready to rock?” Hugh repeated, clearly sensing Rhys’s discomfort. He offered his hand for a high five. Rhys awkwardly tried to slap it, as if he couldn’t care less that his ex-girlfriend and his ex–best friend were practically having sex on the sidewalk.
“Hugh, we’re running late,” Rhys announced in an artificially loud voice, just because he didn’t know what the hell else to say. As soon as he heard his words, he cringed. He sounded like a neurotic soccer mom. He squinted down at the ground, forcing himself to move one John Varvatos limited edition shoe in front of the other. Maybe he should just keep walking until he reached Canada, or any other goddamn place where he wouldn’t be reminded of how his girlfriend—the person he’d loved more than anyone in the world—had taken him for a fucking fool and betrayed him.
“Rhys?” Kelsey turned toward him, her large, ocean-blue eyes pleading.
“I’m not talking to you, Kelsey,” Rhys spat angrily. He cringed. That was the best he could come up with? He wanted to kick himself as he trudged toward the door of the Y, avoiding eye contact with Owen.
“I should…” Owen shrugged apologetically as he let go of Kelsey’s hand.
“I’ll see you later. If you win, I might have an extra-special surprise for you,” Kelsey teased, her eyes gleaming. Owen grinned from ear to ear, the guilt almost gone.
Out with the old, in with the… lewd?