“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy doing what? You could have been out here every night.”
“Being out here alone felt, uh—depressing.”
“Fair.” She looks at me. “Get in.”
I step into the hot tub, and the heat hits me everywhere at once. I sit across from her, but that distance doesn’t last long; her legs find mine under the water almost immediately, her calf sliding against my thigh.
The sky above is dark. You can’t see stars in Brooklyn, but the city has its own glow—amber and gray, the clouds lit from underneath.
“This is nice,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“We should do this more.”
“We should do a lot of things more.”
She smiles, takes a sip of wine, and gazes at me over the rim of her glass. Her eyes are dark in the low light, and her shoulders are wet. I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman right now, and it’s not going well.
“Come here,” I say.
“I’m right here.”
“Closer.”
She sets her wine on the edge of the tub and slides across the bench seat toward me. The water shifts with her, and soon she’s right next to me. I put my arm around her shoulders, and she leans into my side, her head finding that familiar spot on my shoulder.
I turn my head and press my mouth against her temple. She tilts her face up, and I kiss her forehead, her cheekbone, and the corner of her mouth.
“You’re taking your time,” she murmurs.
“I’m savoring.”
“Savoring.” She laughs, low and quiet. “Is that what this is?”
“I’ve got a beautiful woman in my hot tub. I’m going to savor it.”
She turns in the water, placing her warm, wet palm on my chest. Looking into my eyes, I stop savoring and just kiss her.
Her mouth opens under mine as she shifts, swinging one leg over my lap to straddle me, her knees on either side of my hips. My hands find her waist beneath the water—bare skin, warm and slick—and she wraps her arms around my neck, pressing against me. I groan into her mouth; the combination of hot water, her weight in my lap, and her hands on the back of my neck is short-circuiting my brain.
“Arch,” she breathes against my mouth, her hips shifting. I grip her waist harder than I intend to.
“Yeah.”
“We should probably talk about some things.”
“Right now?”
“At some point.”
“At some point, sure.” I kiss her neck, and she tilts her head back, her fingers tightening in my hair. “But not right now.”
We stay like that for a while, making out in the hot tub as if we don’t have real lives, responsibilities, or a custody arrangement that involves lawyers. Her mouth is soft andurgent, and she makes these quiet, breathless sounds that resonate in my chest. My hands move up her sides, my thumbs brushing the bottom edge of her bikini top as she arches into me.
Then she pulls back, her hands on my chest, breathing hard, her forehead against mine.
