Read No Regrets for Free Online Page B

crowded, like today, things are pretty active. I do have to force my mind not to wander over to Henry and check him out, or think about the way his abs would feel under my fingers or what his pouty lips taste like.
    Around noon, I realize with delight, how much my deal with Tate will torture him. The pool moms have caught his attention. And vice versa.
    “Our deal includes them,” I warn during a break. We’re under the shelter cooling off.
    “Who?”
    “Those cougars eyeing you from across the pool.”
    He doesn’t look up from the sheet where he’s recording the chemical data, but his eyebrow quirks just enough that I know he’s aware of who I’m taking about.
    As if on cue, one of the moms comes over, swaying her tiny hips to ask Tate about reserving a private party. Her bathing suit is un-ironically leopard print and she wears huge sunglasses. A tidy pony-tail holds back her long flowing hair. She stumbles over the word private and rests her hand on her shoulder, toying with her bikini strap.
    “Oh man,” I mutter, walking over to Henry. “There’s no way he can go the whole summer without hitting that.”
    “Prob ably not, but as long as he keeps it off pool property it’s cool, right?”
    I glance over at Mrs. Robinson t leaning as close to Tate as possible. He leans against the building, arms crossed over his tan, rock solid chest. An irrational wave of jealousy rolls over me. “Not really. She has kids and a wedding ring on.”
    “I th ink you’re getting burned,” Henry says, interrupting my judging.. I look down and see how red my chest has turned. “Your neck is bad, too. You want me to spray some lotion on?”
    “No,” I say, walking back to the shelter to grab my shirt.
    “Oh , honey,” the woman says, leaning across him to touch my arm. “Make sure you watch that.”
    “I’ m fine, thanks,” reaching for my t-shirt to cover up. Great. Mrs. Robinson-Sassy Vixen can prance around in her bikini but I have to cover myself up because I’m a ghost. Or an over-boiled lobster. Ugh.
    “You don’t think she really wants to schedule a party do you?” I ask once she walks away. I tie my shirt into a knot at my waist.
    “Who cares?” he said, eyes glued to her backside. “I’m game for whatever she wants.”
    I don’t care. I don’t . But I catch myself staring at his back and curse myself.
    “She’s hot,” Henry says, joining our conversation.
    “You too?” I say. I study her as she walks away. She’s not even that pretty. Long, basic brown hair. Her body’s killer but her face is sort of meh. Oh my God, I need to stop judging other women that I am not jealous of. Not.
    He shrugs. “I’ve got no problem with older women.”
    He and Tate bump fists and I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Whatever. You two suck.”
    I le ave them in a fit of laughter, blowing my whistle to drown them out.
     
    *
    That night , alone in my apartment, I gingerly lift my shirt off my back and wince at the pain. My skin has puckered like a lobster. I feel like one, too. I need lotion. I need soothing. I need something and someone to make it better, but Josh and Tricia left me to suffer alone.
    Ouch.
    I wrap myself in a hot pink cover-up, the kind you wear at the pool with no straps. I lie face down on the couch with the remote control and a Diet Coke. I realize too late that I’ve forgotten the candy.
    I’d planned to write tonight since I’d been busy and tired lately. Finding time usually wasn’t a problem for me, not since transferring schools. I’d lost that creative part of myself at Elton, opting for boyfriends and keggers.  Part of the reason for coming to the University was to settle back into my writing ways. But this sunburn hurts like a fucker and there’s no way I can focus.
    I’m watching a food show when someone knocks. “Who is it?” I yell, still stomach down and not planning on moving anytime soon.
    “It’s Henry.”
    “What do you want?”
    “Um, to come in? You left