Pinpoint (Point #4) Read Online Free PDF Page A

conversation about the upcoming football season. Apparently, Kevin is the rookie quarterback for the Chicago Wind. The Campbell family owns both the Scrapers and the Wind. From the conversation, I gather the hockey and football players are frequently thrown together because of their shared parentage.
    “Fuck me, it’s hot out,” Kevin gripes.
    Inwardly, I frown. Curse words are a major turn-off of mine. Mother always said a lady never swore, and Father said bad words were the working of the devil. Their training forever turned me off expletives.
    Kevin swaggers away from the group, followed by his teammates, Wilson and Marc. Violet slides onto the seat next to me and bumps my shoulder with hers.
    “You’re never going to get an even tan wearing that cover-up.”
    “This bathing suit is too skimpy,” I mutter.
    Violet lifts an eyebrow and glances down at her own string bikini. “Really?” She leans in closer to me, ignoring the rest of the conversation around us. “You know I love you, right?”
    “Of course,” I scoff.
    “Then you know that when I say this, it’s not because I’m trying to bully you into being someone you’re not.” Violet’s stare carries intensity, and I nod in acknowledgment. “Don’t hide. You are lovely, Iris, and I’m not saying that because I’m your older sister. You are a treasure.”
    “All this over a cover-up?” The joke falls flat because both of us know she’s talking about more than a colorful, semi-sheer dress.
    “The Mercer Club rooftop probably isn’t the best spot for a heart to heart. I care about you and want you to be confident you made the right choice by moving here.” The love shining in Violet’s eyes makes my eyes sting until I blink furiously.
    “There’s no doubt in my mind that this was the right decision,” I say confidently. Violet smiles, but her worry is obvious in her expression. Guilt washes over me. My sister gave me a job and a place to live—a chance at a real life and not one orchestrated by my father.
    I grab my sister’s hand and weave our fingers together. “Cameron’s right; we Harper girls are a handful. What a pair we make.” She squeezes my hand.
    Glancing nervously around the deck, I realize my anxiety is for nothing. No one is paying any attention to me. If the other Mercer patrons were interested in anyone, it would be the professional athletes in our group, not the mousy blonde. Reluctantly, I tug the dress over my head and accept Violet’s offered sunscreen.
    “Anyone want a drink?” Cameron asks. A waiter stands poised with a notepad.
    “Iced tea for me, please,” I say.
    “Of the Long Island variety, right?” Tucker loves to goad me because I don’t drink.
    “Maybe next time,” I say lightly though I don’t particularly like being teased on this topic. It sends me straight back to high school when I was endlessly mocked as the do-gooder pastor’s daughter.
    “Kevin’s right. It’s boiling. I’m going to dip my toes in the water. Be back in a minute.” I hop to my feet and skirt away from the setup. I’m terrible at the socializing thing. No matter what I do, I come off as Violet’s awkward younger sister.
    At the edge of the pool, I take a seat and plunk my legs into the water until it comes calf high. The burst of refreshing coolness relaxes my jangled nerves. I tilt my head toward the sun. Vitamin D sure isn’t visible to the naked eye, but it feels like the rays are energizing every single of my skin cells.
    “You were born to wear that bikini, gorgeous.” My chin snaps down, and I watch Kevin swim toward where I sit until he is close. Too close. He places a hand on either side of my legs, lazily kicking his legs behind him.
    Ugh. I may not have much experience with men—okay, no experience with men—but I know enough to recognize a player when he swims next to me. Luckily, Kevin doesn’t touch me, though his fingertips come dangerously close to my outer thighs.
    “That sounds like an