“Okay, but just drive slo—”
I rip the throttle back, and we take off streaming across the lake. I look back over my shoulder as the tube rope goes taut. Cara screams—a short, sharp sound—but she instantly adjusts, flattening herself against the tube and hanging on tight. I’ll give her this: The girl might be frickin’ annoying, but she’s not a coward.
I turn to face front again, and my stomach drops. We’re about to cross the wake of another speedboat. I just wanted to mess with Cara a little, not completely eff her up. I turn the wheel, trying to swerve out of the way of the churning waves the other boat left behind. But it’s too late. We hit the wake with a hard thud I can feel in my teeth. I look back to see Cara skid across the surface, and then, in what feels like slow motion, I watch as she loses her grip on the handles and goes flying from the tube, landing in the lake with a splash.
Cooper immediately cuts the throttle. “Cara!” He shoves past me, jumping back to the helm.
“Are you okay?” Nate yells back to his sister, and I hear real concern in his voice. Which makes me feel completely horrible.
I can see Cara bobbing in her life jacket. She holds her hand aboveher head, giving a thumbs-up. Oh, thank the lord. A sigh of relief wooshes from me. I toss an apologetic glance at Nate.
Sorry, I mouth.
He just rolls his eyes and shakes his head—but I can see the slightest hint of a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth. So he can’t be too mad at me, right?
Cooper drives the boat in a tight circle back toward Cara.
When she grabs the ladder and pulls herself, dripping, onto the deck, I rush to her. “Cara, I am so sorry! I didn’t see that wake, I swear—”
She cuts me off, her eyes blazing. “I’m fine.” She ignores my towel offer, pushing past me toward the driver’s seat. “My turn.”
Cara takes the wheel and, following Cooper’s instructions, gets us most of the way back to our side of the lake. As we round the bank approaching home, we’re coming up fast on another boat. “Turn! Turn!” Cooper yells, and Cara overcompensates, yanking the steering wheel too far to the right.
Our boat makes a ninety-degree turn, and I lose my balance, falling forward across Nate briefly as I twist and stumble right into his lap. For a brief moment, he holds my arms, as if to steady me, and the feeling of sitting right on his lap sends electric shockwaves through me. But then, just as quickly he picks me up and sets me firmly on the bench beside him, and I see a blush cross his face has he grabs a life jacket and holds it over his lap.
“Careful there.Friend.” I hear the low gravel in his voice. The emphasis on that word,friend. “Maybe you need one of these.”
But he doesn’t actually hand me the life jacket, and I suspect he’s holding it exactly over his lap region for reasons that have nothing to do with safety.
The rest of our time on the boat, Nate and I make a point not tolook at each other, as if we can both feel the heat building between us. I jump out as soon as Cooper gets us to the dock. Because it’s either that, or jump onto Nate. And I really, really want to do the latter.
Which concerns me.
Because even thinking about hooking up with Nate is just… messy. It makes no sense. It would only pull me further off course from the life I’msupposedto be having. The one where I hit all the milestones I actually imagined for myself. The one where the FitGirl partnership is waiting for me back in LA, not to mention the podcast studio and who knows, maybe even a husband and kids someday. Maybe an actual life purpose? A girl can dream.
But I know one thing for sure: My life’s purpose is definitelynotjumping into bed with a sexy failure-to-launch Southern boy with no aspirations beyond finding the best fishing spot and certainly no aspirations of finding a forever love.
16
THE SUN HAS DIPPEDbelow the tree line, leaving the sky a bruised-
purple shade of twilight. I’m sitting on the deck stairs, watching the fireflies begin their nightly dance over the lawn.
My skin still feels tight from the lake water and sun, but my chest feels tighter.
I keep replaying the moment the tube rope snapped taut and Cara went flying. In the moment, it felt like a victory—a little bit of karmic justice for everything she’s stolen from me. But now, in the quiet, I just feel… small. I haven’t acted this petty since I was in league with Mary Moore on the Miss Georgia Teen pageant circuit.
I pull out my phone.
Nikki:Tell me I’m a good person. Even if you have to lie.
Sybil:You’re the best person I know. Who do I need to fight?
Willow:You’re literal sunshine, Nik. Why? What happened?
I start to typeI may or may not have tried to drown my brother’s fiancée, then hear the screen door creak and the rhythmic thwack of flip-flops on wood.
“Ma’am, I think we’re going to have to revoke your boating license,” Nate says.
