As she waited for the guys to finish talking, Anna absently watched a group of kids horse around in the pool. They seemed to have formed two groups; while she observed them, one little boy, a chubby redhead, let out a hilariously sincere war yell and went on a splashing rampage that would've made Jason proud at that age.
Then again, she thought, glancing down at her newly sodden dress, Jason hadn't exactly outgrown pool-side pranks. She made a face and tugged discreetly at the neckline since the water-logged fabric wasn't exactly on the winning end of its battle with gravity. With her luck, she'd end up giving the entire room an eyeful of her less-than-bountiful cleavage.
She smirked. Nothing like wearing a tube top to get a girl depressed about her remarkably unremarkable assets.
She was about to give the dress another tug when she glanced up and saw Andreas walking toward her with a broad smile spread across his almost too-pretty face.
Oh how lovely. Here she was dripping wet, and he, like last night, looked absolutely impeccable even though he was shirtless...
very
, shirtless.
"I thought that was you, Anna," he said, resting his hands on the narrow waist revealed by his low-hanging swim trunks.
She blinked a few times, surprised at suddenly being so up close and personal with his bare, toasty brown chest. "Hi," she returned. "How's your night going?"
His grin widened. "Better now that I've run into you again."
Her own smile faltered a bit. Was he hitting on her? Even last night, she hadn't been sure. She lowered her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of the glimmer of what looked a lot like sexual appraisal in his eyes. He was prettier than her for goodness sake. Why would he possibly be interested?
To her relief, he smoothly changed the subject. "Did you come up for an evening swim?"
She shook her head. "No, I was out on the balcony. The view's amazing. You can see most of the Sears Tower."
As she spoke, his gaze slid past her to the balcony, and his eyes narrowed. "Is that Jason and Sam out there?" he asked before bringing his cool gray eyes back to hers. "Don't tell me they left you all alone."
That comment made her want to laugh. What was she, a six-year-old? "Uh, not really. I got cold and came inside. They'll probably be back in soon."
"Still," he returned, stepping so close to her that she caught the scent of chlorine and cologne that rose from his skin. "As an Italian man, I know better than to leave a woman on her own. Especially," he added, his eyes scanning her from head to toe, "when she's wearing such a charming little ensemble."
His attention shifted downward, toward her dress and an amused smile played at the corner of his mouth. "It's probably not polite to ask a lady why she's dripping wet, but I have to admit, I'm curious."
As if she needed a reminder of her appearance, Anna followed his gaze and only then realized how clingy the wet cotton had become. Not to mention semi-transparent. Well, wasn't that just freaking perfect? She probably looked like an entrant in a wet t-shirt contest.
"I sort of fell in the pool," she muttered, willing herself not to blush.
"Oh, so this dripping wet thing isn't a new fashion trend that I haven't heard about?"
She made a face and plucked at the wet fabric hugging her waist. "If it is a fashion, it's nothing new. We've been doing the rained-on look in Seattle for
years
."
He let out a bark of laughter. "Beauty
and
a sense of humor? My God, you're too good to be true." His laughing gaze came to rest on the general area of her breasts as he murmured, "I'd love to see more of you."
Shock jolted through her. "Excuse me?" she choked out. She must have heard him wrong.
He raised a hand apologetically. "My mistake,
cara
." The charismatic grin that spread across his face made her wonder if every adult male in the culinary industry had been gifted with perfect teeth. "What I meant to say," he continued, "is that I'd love to continue our conversation. Downstairs, perhaps? Over wine?"
And here it was. One more uncomfortable moment to add to her growing tally in Chicago. She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to think of something to say.
Was there some kind of etiquette for turning down overly charming, shirtless Italian men? Especially when your best friend seemed to hate said Italian man?
The best she came up with was, "I, um...that's probably not a very good idea."
An awkward silence fell as Andreas studied her. Finally, he gave a slow, knowing nod. "Let me guess. Jason told you to stay away from me."
Her brow knit. "No, actually he didn't. Why would he?" She knew Jason didn't like the guy, but telling her to keep away from him? That seemed a little extreme, even for Jay.
Surprise showed on Andreas's face. "So, you haven't heard all about Rachel, I take it?"
"Rachel?" A tiny voice whispered that she definitely shouldn't be asking some guy who Jason clearly disliked about their past, but curiosity had gotten the better of her.
"I can't believe you haven't heard any of this," Andreas said with a small, sarcastic laugh. "Then again, I guess Jason always was a bit of a sore loser."
Anna was disgusted with herself for prying, but she couldn't stop herself. "A sore loser, how?"
Something hard and cold glinted in Andreas's eyes and Anna found herself regretting this whole conversation.
Andreas, though, seemed more than willing to fill her in. "It all comes back to a woman," he said. "One who chose me, over him. All through school, Jason was used to people kissing his ass." He gave a careless shrug. "But Rachel didn't fall under his spell like everyone else and he's held a grudge all these years."
As Andreas's words sank in, so did a quiet, desperate denial. Jay was still hung up over this Rachel person? But that couldn't be...she'd learned the hard way that he wasn't exactly the commitment type.
"That doesn't make sense," she murmured, as if saying the words could make it true. "I've known Jason for years and I don't ... I just don't see him holding a grudge over something like that. Women are kind of a hobby for him."
She hated admitting that last part, but it was true. And yet, she loved him despite his near man-whore status. Talk about being a glutton for punishment.
"Come,
cara
," Andreas gently chided with a click of his tongue. "Even a man like Jason, who plays women for sport, sometimes comes across that
one
woman who has the power to own him."
Licking her bottom lip, she formed her words carefully. "Do you mean that Jason ... was he in—"
"In love with Rachel?" Andreas supplied, his tone breezy. "Probably ... I'm almost certain of it, in fact. It's the only real explanation for why he's held onto this childish feud for so long."
Her heart clenched painfully. Was it true? Was this really why Jason didn't like Andreas? Because of some girl? Some girl who still affected him all these years later? Some girl who'd captured his heart in a way she'd never been able to?
An empty, hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
Had he really been in love?
"Are you all right,
