Nicholas hardly heard his friend's voices or the radio as they drove toward the beach. He thought about Zac, about how different she was now. He'd come home expecting to see his good buddy Zac, who was like a cool younger sibling to him before. All of a sudden she was seventeen and filled out and gorgeous. What ever happened to that little tomboy he used to wrestle with? Or enjoy a football game with? Now she had this hair, that smelled like roses, smelled so sweet.
She had these eyes that had once been playful and challenging, and now they were swift and daring and sexy. She had a woman's face, a woman's body for fuck sakes. He couldn't wrestle with her now. It would be sexual harassment of some sort he was sure. Now she had these long, painted, manicured nails. She wore eye liner and mascara and lipstick.
Instead of gym shorts and big t-shirts she wore these cute little lacey or silk pajamas, sometimes just walked around in bras and panties as if it were nothing to think of. Didn't she even realize she had this amazing body and that she should be covering up when other boys were around? It infuriated him that she might be wearing these things in front of other guys.
Then those tight little dresses she wore, the mini skirts and the halter tops or the tube tops. It was like she was just a fucking ad for skin and cleavage. Why didn't Josh ever get onto her for wearing shit like that? It wasn't right, her showing it off to all of the horn dog guys that lived around here.
Those gorgeous legs that were smooth, tan, and firm. She was just a whole damn package deal and it just pissed him off. He wanted the old Zac back.
Not this interesting, sexy, too-fucking-pretty seventeen-year-old girl who made him ache at just one look. She was his best friend's little sister for fuck sakes. What the hell was wrong with him?