Page 45 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

“I’m pacing myself.”

“Uh-huh.”

I was wearing a black bikini under my dress, which I purchased specifically for this event after Liam had mentioned multiple times that pool parties involved pools, and I should probably be prepared in case someone pushed me in.

He would. I knew he would.

So, I came prepared.

We made our way through the crowd with Liam’s hand finding my lower back again. Higher this time, but I still felt every point of contact like a brand.

A couple approached, and I knew they were Olympic rowers, but suddenly we were surrounded. Questions were flying, with people pressing in, and everyone wanting to know about the viral proposal.

“How did you two get together?” someone asked with a grin.

We both started talking.

“Well, we reconnected at the engagement party—” I said.

“It was actually years ago at a—” Liam said.

We stopped and glared at each other.

The crowd waited expectantly.

Liam recovered first, his effortless charm sliding into place. “She spilled a drink on me, and I realized I wanted her to spill into my life.”

The crowd awed at us as if we were puppies, while I nearly choked on my champagne at the cringe line.

I recovered, forcing a smile. “And I realized this annoying jerk who always tugged on my hair, almost drowned m—uh, I mean, he had become... less annoying.”

Liam’s eye twitched as laughter rippled through the group. Someone said we were adorable and meant to be.

An hour later, the party was in full swing. Half the guests were in the pool, splashing and laughing, and Liam was being called over by a group of swimmers I recognized from the Olympics.

He glanced at me. “You okay if I…?”

I was surprised he even asked me and was considerate. My ex would have ditched me ages ago.

“Go ahead.” I said, waving him off. “I’ll survive.”

“You could join.” He hesitated. “I could grab you a swimsuit from the⁠—”

“I’m wearing a bikini underneath,” I said.

His eyes went dark with pupils dilating as his gaze dropped, traveling over my dress as if he could see through it.

Heat flooded my body as a delicious shiver ran down my spine.

“Okay,” he said, voice rougher. “You can go change. I’ll wait for you.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and escaped to one of the private changing rooms.

The bikini I donned was simple, with high-waisted bottoms, a triangle top, and nothing scandalous. I had worn more revealing things to the beach.

So why do I feel naked walking back out to find Liam?

He was waiting by the pool, shirtless now, wearing navy swim trunks that sat low on his hips. His chest was ridiculously defined in a way that came from years of training, the kind of body that existed in movies and billboards but apparently also in real life, attached to someone who drove me insane.