Dirty Dreams novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Popsicle

By two o'clock the whole backyard smelled like chlorine and cut grass.

My mother had gone to the farmers market, and Dylan's dad was golfing with his brother until dark.

That left the pool, the four boys, and me.

I wore the bikini.

It was the same navy one from yesterday, the one Brody said was a sin, and I knew exactly what I was doing when I tied the strings.

I walked out of the house with a towel on my shoulder and a red popsicle in my hand.

Nobody was in the water.

All four of them stopped talking.

Brody was lying on a lounge chair with his arm over his eyes, and he lifted it as soon as he heard the screen door.

"Hey, Kenna," he said. His voice had gone lower than usual.

"Hey."

I sat on the edge of the pool with my feet in the water, and I peeled the paper back.

The popsicle was cherry, and it was already starting to drip.

I put it in my mouth and took it all the way in, slowly, and pulled it back out.

The red ran down my wrist.

I licked it off.

Behind me, somebody made a small sound that wasn't a word.

I glanced back over my shoulder.

Wyatt was sitting in the shade on a plastic chair with a towel over his lap, staring at his knees.

Brody had sat up.

Dylan stood at the grill with his back to me, holding the tongs, completely still.

I took another long pull on the popsicle and watched Tate watch me.

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