Page 31 of The Other Room

Just friends, just friends, just friends.

“I think I should drive,” I said, trying to force the saliva to return to my mouth.

“Not a chance in hell.” He shoved his t-shirt inside the bag and gestured to my turquoise coverup. “You want to wear that, or do you want it in the drybag?”

Though I had no interest in any more skin-to-skin contact than necessary, I also didn’t want my only clothing for the day soaked if I needed to wear it later. Swallowing hard, I slowly peeled it over my head and handed it to him. His mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, but a slight tip in his chin told me he may have just peeked at my goodies as well.

“Cute suit,” he said, and shoved my dress into the bag.

Cute suit. Never mind. He wasn’t eyeballing my goodies after all; he was just taking note of the army green bikini I sported.

Doesn’t matter. Just friends.

After a lifetime of getting good at pretending I had no feelings for Matt, Jenna’s words yesterday had reignited those emotions I’d long thought gone. Well, perhaps they’d never been totally gone, but they’d been much quieter. Maybe the time spent apart had flamed my feelings to the point of incinerating me from the inside. The year apart had amplified all those feelings, and I was out of practice at shoving them back down. What had become a quiet reflex anytime they had tried to surface before was now a struggle akin to folding up fitted sheets and getting them back into their original packaging.

While I watched his toned, tanned muscles flex as he put our dry bag in the cubby beneath the seat, I continued my mantra and hoped soon it would burn back into my brain.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

“Life jacket. Here.” He tossed me a blue jacket and then strapped on his own. Grateful for the lessening of our upcoming close contact, I clicked on my straps and pulled them tight.

He climbed onto the jet ski, patting the seat for me to jump on. Swallowing my groan, I climbed on behind him. The muscles in his broad back twitched while he started it up, and I glanced back at the dock wondering what excuse I could spit out for launching back onto dry land and running for my life. After a lifetime of pretending my feelings for him were nothing more than a childhood crush long passed, I hadn’t realized how easy this last year had been away from him. A whole year of not having to chant my mantra when his smile threatened to turn my world upside down.

“Hold on, Jo. Don’t want to send you flying... although I suppose you deserve some payback.” He smiled over his shoulder.

With a groan I didn’t bother to suppress since he couldn’t hear it over the humming of the engine, I scooted forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. Actual agony radiated from the tips of my fingers when I brushed against his skin. Why? Why couldn’t I just get rid of these feelings once and for all? I’d thought after his betrayal that finally, finally, I would be free of the rogue attraction to him that continued rearing its head at the most inopportune times.

Like this one.

But it would seem my luck in that department had all but run out.

Matt gave the jet ski some gas, and we puttered through the marina and out past the Sister Bay beach. Children leapt off the long, concrete dock and I remembered being one of them myself once upon a time. As kids, Matt, Jake, and I had played there a number of times, and our squeals had echoed through the summer air when we’d plunged off the dock hand-in-hand. Today it wasn’t our squeals coming off the dock, but howls of joy from the children enjoying their summer vacations. The shrieks of their happiness traveled across the water and blended with the sound of our engine as Matt gave it more gas.

“You’d better hold on tight,” he said as we made it out of the no-wake zone.

With willpower that rivaled keeping The Incredible Hulk at bay, I bit my lip and wrapped my arms around his waist even tighter. As sensations spiraled through my body, I understood this was the reason I’d insisted on driving the jet ski all those years ago. This agony of being wrapped around him and feeling him between my thighs. Although, at Andrea’s birthday party when he’d climbed up behind me and I’d felt his grip tighten around my waist it had ended up being just a different kind of agony. But shortly into our ride he’d let go of me, scooting back as far as he could, like I repulsed him and he couldn’t stand the thought of touching me. I’d gotten pissed at the insult, and my temper had gotten the better of me, so knowing he had nothing to hold onto, I’d intentionally tossed him off that day.

Matt gunned it and we lifted in the air, skipping across the waves cresting along the bay. As we reached our cruising speed, the jet ski settled into its plane and we zipped along the shores of Sister Bay. The breathtaking bluffs helped me focus my attention on something other than the man between my legs. Something other than the feelings that were replacing the rage I’d felt this past year. Something other than the not-so-friendly feelings his return to my life had amplified. What had been reduced to a barely audible whisper over the years was now like having someone screaming in my ear with a megaphone.

Instead of listening to it, I tried to drown it out.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MATT

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Wow. That was a bad idea of epic proportions, I thought while I guided the jet ski between all the boats anchored around Nicolet Bay.

I’d thought I was being so smart forcing Jo to sit behind me, ensuring I’d avoid the unfortunate incident that had happened last time we’d gone jet skiing. I’d thought I’d be safe up here and we could enjoy a nice day on the water reconnecting again. As friends.

I’d thought wrong.

The minute those long legs had slid against my hips I’d reverted to that fourteen-year-old boy again... and there weren’t enough baseball images in the world to push away the anything-but-platonic thoughts that invaded my mind.

What the hell was wrong with me? I’d gotten past this. I’d moved on from Jo years ago.