Page 87 of Summer Love

He reaches behind me for the zipper and works it down, then slides the neoprene off my shoulders, my arms. I’m too stiff to help. He pulls the rest down to my ankles and frees my feet. The air hits my wet skin and I shake harder.

Sierra comes back with a big white towel. Noah drapes it over my shoulders and rubs my back through the fabric.

I breathe. The air won’t come right. The taste of salt lingers in my throat.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Noah says. “You swallowed water and panicked. If you’re still coughing in ten minutes, we’ll figure it out.”

“I didn’t panic,” I murmur.

“You panicked,” Jace confirms.

I don’t have the energy to answer.

Harper returns with a steaming mug. She sits on the edge of the lounge chair, hands me the mug, and puts her hand on my knee. She doesn’t say anything. She’s just there.

The shivering eases. The tea is scalding and too sweet. Sierra is sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes on me. Noah stands, wipes his hands on his shorts, retrieves his cold coffee from the counter. He takes a sip and grimaces, then sets it on the little table by the lounge chair and drops down beside me.

I look up at Jace, still motionless, his face closed off. He’s watching me with an expression I can’t read.

“Thanks…” I manage.

“Don’t thank me. Watch the ocean next time,” he grumbles.

He pushes off the wall, but he doesn’t leave. He moves to the edge of the pool, leans back against an umbrella pole, and folds his arms again.

Flip, who trotted behind us all the way from the beach, lies down against my thigh. His muzzle is warm through the towel. He whines twice, pushes his nose against my hand.

Then Captain crosses the deck.

Flip lifts his head. His ears prick up. The big tabby strolls between the lounge chairs, tail high, without giving him a glance.

The dog leaps up and knocks over Noah’s coffee.

“Damn it, Flip!” Noah yells.

The dog tears off after the cat and disappears behind the bougainvillea, barking.

Harper bursts out laughing. Sierra smiles. Noah stares down at his spilled coffee.

“Perfect. I had nothing planned anyway.”

CHAPTER 29

Summer

After a few minutes, Flip comes barreling back, tongue lolling, paws caked with dirt. He circles my lounge chair twice, sniffs my ankles, and takes off again, claws clicking on the slats.

“Jace, get your dog,” Noah calls. “Before he takes out one of the cats.”

Jace whistles. Flip hesitates, nose pointed toward the bougainvillea where Captain bolted. Then he gives in and trots over to his owner.

Jace heads back toward the surf school, Flip at his heels. He doesn’t look at anyone.

I watch him go. He disappears around the corner of the main building.

The pool water is flat, almost white in the morning light. It smells like chlorine and the coffee Flip knocked over. I wrap both hands around the mug Harper brought me earlier.

The towel slips off my shoulders. My swimsuit is still soaked, and my hair, stiff with salt, sticks to the back of my neck. The sun warms my skin without quite chasing off the cold.