Page 52 of Lavender and Linebackers

“Chase, we’re photographing them in the bikinis, not them in the water where no one can see the bikinis.” Danica tries to dumb it down for him.

“Oh, now I get it. That makes sense,” he says.

“But you’re not wrong.” Danica stands. “The light here is good, and I can get a few of them on the front of the boat.”

The first bikini I have on is navy with cherries on it, and the edging is red. With my hair down, I wrap a red scarf over my head and tie it in the back. Both of us set the scene with our products. I slip on the sunglasses and get into place.

“Ryder, will you please hand me a drink out of the cooler?” I ask him.

“Sure,” he mumbles, getting up to do as I’ve asked.

From Sully’s phone, he cranks up some country music, and Danica gets to work. She takes pictures of us, the products, and asks Sully to slowly drive the boat so she can get some video content. She then asks Kelli and Ryder to swap places. She hands him a drink, smooths down the back of his shirt with the company logo on it, and just like all the other times, we’re taking pictures together. It’s easy to pretend that I’m smiling at him because of the camera, but really, I’m smiling at him because I want to. It’s been such a long time, and while things are still awkward between us, it’s nice to have a moment too when they are not.

“Too bad the Tarpons can’t use these too,” Danica says, looking at the digital screen of her camera. “They look great.”

“What do you mean?” Sully is staring at her like she’s sprouted two heads.

“Just that outside the Tarpons events, some lifestyle pictures would be nice too.”

“If you say so.” His brows are drawn. He doesn’t understand what she’s saying, and looking at Ryder, he’s not going to be the one to explain it to him.

As for Kelli, Danica has her stand behind Sully, where she gets cute full-body pictures of her suit. She sits on his lap. He looks suddenly horrified. She pretends that she’s driving the boat, and at one point she snatches his hat off his head and puts it on. He plays along, and I know all of these are going to do well.

When we decide we’ve got enough, Ryder and I both stand to move inside the boat when suddenly it lurches, and we both end up in the water.

As I’m surfacing, he’s right there next to me, his hands reaching for me.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just shocked this happened.” He holds me while I reach for my glasses as they’re falling off and my scarf, which is floating next to me.

“Are you really, though?” he says flatly.

The water is warm. He is warm.

“Sully, why?” I call up to him as all three of them watch us and laugh. I know my makeup is waterproof, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying that I have black streaks running down my face. I wipe underneath my eyes as he continues to hold me.

“It wasn’t me!” He points at Kelli.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, but I can see in her eyes she’s not sorry at all. She did this on purpose, and I’m going to have to kill her later.

Click. Click. Click.

Danica has decided to embrace the moment, and well, I guess I can too. Kicking up on the water, I push away and down on Ryder to dunk him. I’m laughing as he drags me under with him and then wraps himself around me. I can’t open my eyes because of the salt, but for a second, I squeeze them tighter and hug him. Our feet hit the sand on the bottom. It turns out it’s not deep here, and he pauses for a second to hug me back. One arm bands around me, while his hand on the other palms the back of my head. He holds me against him. I can feel his heartbeat through the shirt, and then he shoots us to the surface for air.

“Did you think that was funny?” he asks, with drops of water clinging to his lashes and his lips, and I laugh because I did. “Two can play this game.”

Next thing I know, I’m being launched in the air, and I splash down ten feet away from him.

I laugh some more when I come up, and he meets me halfway, pulling me into him, and unconsciously I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands fall underneath my thighs to help hold me up. In his arms, we say nothing. We stare at each other for a moment, and with the natural lighting, I’m greedy, soaking up the new little details about his face that I once knew so well. He has more freckles dusted across his cheeks, his jawline appears stronger, and on the right side there is a tiny scar. His skin is smoother, and his eyebrows are thicker, and well, he just looks older.

Older, and I missed the changes when they happened.

I know I shouldn’t, but I’m overcome with sadness.

“What happened here?” I run my finger over the scar.

“Shaving,” he says, barely moving his lips. Lips that are still wet and look inviting. “You changed the color of your hair,” he counters. His fingers slide over my butt and up my back to brush against the ends.