I hum quietly. “Yeah.”
For a second, we just breathe into the line together. Then Derek asks, more gently, “So… what are you gonna do now?”
I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. “We said we wanted to do it again, but we’re keeping it casual. I mean, I’m only here for two more months.”
“Then you better enjoy two months of no-strings-attached sex with ahot lifeguard, you lucky bitch,” he says.
I huff. “You’re forgetting I have barely any sexual experience. I’m not like you—I didn’t get passed around by the entire high school drama club.”
He gasps. “Are you slut-shaming me right now?”
“Absolutely.”
He cackles. “Stop overthinking it, Hunter. You’re smart, funny, kind, and a complete nerd, but in a lovable way. And you’re hot, even if you don’t see it.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”
“Shut the fuck up and let me compliment you,” he snaps, but his tone is tender.
There’s a sudden clatter in the background, followed by muffled cursing.
Derek groans. “Shit. Oliver just burned himself on the stove again. I gotta go play nurse.”
Oliver is his fiancé. They’ve been dating for about four years, and they’re disgustingly in love. They recently got engaged, and I’m going to be Derek’s best man at their wedding next summer.
“Go take care of your man. Tell him I say hi.”
“Will do. And I want every detail about Mr. Hot Lifeguard moving forward.”
I press my forehead against my knee, smiling despite myself. “Sure. Love you.”
“Love you more. Don’t forget to wear protection! Bye.”
He hangs up.
I toss my phone aside and sink back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling fan spinning overhead. I feel a little lighter, but the weight in my chest doesn’t fully go away.
There’s still this tiny, insecure voice in my head whispering that Mason is going to wake up, realize he’s out of my league, and decide last night was a mistake. That he can do better.
But God, selfishly, I hope he doesn’t. Because I want more.
I want to kiss him again. I want to feel the warmth of his skin against mine, memorize every freckle, lick his abs, learn what makes him moan.
I’ve never been this desperate to touch someone before. Granted, my experience is admittedly… limited.
This summer, I came to Claremont Shores to conduct research. Maybe I should think of thisthingwith Mason as another kind of experiment—an opportunity to become an expert in sex. A sex-pert.
Time to collect some data.
***
It’s nearly eight o’clock at night by the time I finally build up the courage to text Mason. I type, delete, and re-type the message at least half a dozen times. My thumb hovers over the send button, twitching hesitantly.
Finally, I close my eyes and hit send.
Hunter:Hey! I had a great time last night. :)
I stare at the screen, already spiraling. My heart lurches.
