Stolen by Lauren Barnholdt, Aaron Gorvine Read Free Book Online Page A

“Sorry, I, um, I didn’t know anyone was going to be back here.”
    He’s wearing a pair of navy blue shorts, and no shirt, and he’s skimming the water with a huge net. “No problem,” he says, grinning. “You must be the tenants.”
    “Yeah,” I say, “And you must be … “ I trail off, because I’m not sure exactly what to say. Somehow saying ‘you must be the pool boy’ definitely doesn’t seem like it’s okay. Not that I would know for sure. We’ve never had a pool boy before. We’ve never even paid someone to cut our lawn.
    “I’m Lucas,” he says. He pulls the net out of the pool and drops it on the concrete stones. He picks his shirt up off a lawn chair, and then tosses it over his head. “I live here.”
    “You live here?”
    “Don’t worry,” he says, seeing the look on my face. “Not for the summer.” He pushes by me and toward the other side of the pool. As he does, he pushes his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, and I swallow. Hard. His muscles bulge through the fabric. His arms are tan and strong, the kind of arms that have obviously spent a lot of time outside, working in the sun.
    “You live here but not for the summer?” I ask. “That doesn’t make sense.”
    “My dad owns this house,” he says, “But in the summer, he rents it out.” He’s bending down now, his hand in the water, messing around with the filter.
    “Why would you rent out a house like this?” I ask, sitting down in one of the patio chairs. “It’s amazing.”
    “My dad likes to stay closer to the beach in the summer,” he says, and shrugs. He finishes with the filter and wipes his hand on his shorts.
    Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that my hair is probably a mess from napping on it in the car, and I’m sure my makeup is dripping down my face because of the humidity.
    Not that I care what I look like. I mean, I have a boyfriend. Okay, that’s a lie. I kind of do care what I look like. Because Lucas is hot. The kind of hot that isn’t disputable. The kind of hot that, boyfriend or not, you can’t help but notice.
    “Emily, did you – “ my mom starts, walking out onto the patio. “Oh,” she says when she sees Lucas. “I didn’t know someone else was out here.”
    For a second, I think I see a look of anxiety, or maybe fear, flash across her face.
    But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would she be worried about a guy who’s cleaning our pool?
    “Sorry,” Lucas says, giving her a grin. He reaches over and holds out his hand.
    “I’m Lucas Marshall. My dad owns this house.”
    “Oh, of course!” my mom says, her eyes lighting up. “Paul mentioned he had a boy just Emily’s age.”
    “I was just cleaning the pool,” Lucas says. “It’s such a hot day, I figured you might want to have a swim.”
    “That’s so nice of you,” my mom says. “That’s so nice of him, isn’t it, Emily?”
    “Yeah,” I say, “Very nice.” I stand up. It’s time for me to go in the house. One, because I need to call Gabe and two, because I know what’s about to happen.
    See, the thing is, my mom really does not like the fact that I have a boyfriend.
    Which is totally ridiculous, since Gabe is exactly the kind of guy you’d want your daughter to be dating – straight A student, athletic, super polite, etc.
    But it’s not about Gabe. My mom doesn’t think I should be serious with any guy right now. She thinks when you’re sixteen you should be out partying and having fun.
    She’s constantly telling me to “be young while I can” and “explore my options.” It’s pretty ironic, actually. Most girls would kill for a mom who wants them to go out and party all the time. But all I want is for her to accept that I’m not into all that typical high school stuff.
    “So, Luke,” my mom says, sidling closer to him. I wonder what he thinks about her calling him Luke, when he said his name was Lucas. It’s like when people call me
    ‘Em’ without asking. I hate that. People