Page 32 of The Other Room

Hadn’t I?

Sure, I’d suffered an occasional flare up of feelings over the years, but for the most part I’d been successful. Okay, more than occasional flare-ups, but they were at least manageable. Today was no mild flare up. Today, the moment I felt her body wrap around mine, the closeness brought on a raging inferno. I’d spent the past thirty minutes wrestling with the fire scorching me from the inside out, but I was anything but successful in extinguishing it. I was failing. Miserably. Apparently spending a year apart had been like shoving my bottled-up feelings into the bottom of a champagne bottle and giving it a shake. Now the desperate pressure dared me to pop the cork.

But there would be no popping of the cork and expressing my deepest desires. Not with Jo. I needed to keep those feelings contained in the bottle until they fizzled out... just like I’d done all those years ago right here on this beach after we’d played spin the bottle and it had ended in a most unfortunate kiss.

Now here we were again, back at the scene of the crime. Back at the beach we’d come to for Andrea’s fourteenth birthday party when I’d finally given up on my unrequited love for Jo.

When I’d spun the bottle and it had landed on Jo, every nerve in my body had twitched with excitement. Finally... finally I would get to kiss her. And when I had leaned across the circle of cheering friends and pressed my lips to hers, my world had flipped upside down. After years of coveting her lips and wondering what they tasted like, I’d finally experienced a kiss with the girl who’d held my heart since we were in preschool. Pulse racing. Breath stalling in my lungs. That moment became the culmination of every fantasy I’d ever had.

And then she’d demolished my fantasy like a wrecking ball. The moment our lips broke apart, she’d wiped her mouth, spitting into the sand with a face twisted in disgust.

A face I’d never, ever, forget. The face that told me Jo would never see me as anything other than a friend.

And I’d do well to remember that disgusted expression right now.

Just friends.

Glancing at the spot in the sand where my dreams had been dashed all those years ago during Andrea’s birthday party, I repeated the process of shoving my confusing emotions about her back into the closet I’d stored them in. We were just friends, and I needed to drill that back into my mind. Last night I’d been thrilled she’d even cracked open the door to friendship, and I wasn’t going to do anything to stretch the already frazzled tether between us.

Didn’t matter how good she looked in that green bikini.

Or how amazing her arms felt wrapped around my waist.

Or... nope. Ignore it, damn it.

Just friends.

She tapped my shoulder and pointed to the sandy spot off to the side of the swimming area. “You can pull up over there.” Desperate to get off this jet ski and out from between her legs, I maneuvered us through the boats dotting the quiet water. Families and friends sprawled across the bows of their boats and yachts, and I tried not to get caught in their anchor lines while I twisted and turned between them. When I reached waist deep water, I killed the engine and flung myself off the side.

“What the hell!” Jo shrieked, shielding her eyes from my splash.

“Sorry, I was hot,” I lied.

“You could have at least driven us up closer to shore. It’s a jet ski, you know. You can pretty much beach it. Now I’ve got to swim in.”

There was a reason I’d needed to jump into waist-deep water, and I didn’t need her getting a glimpse at the effects of having her body wrapped around me.

“I’ll just pull you in,” I said, hoping the cold water would have things in my shorts sorted out by the time I needed to emerge. A plunge into the lake had cooled me off the last time riding a jet ski with her had my emotions and hormones in overdrive.

With Jo perched on the seat, I grabbed the line and tugged her and the jet ski up to the shore. Much to my relief, things below settled down, and I rose out of the water exhaling a deep breath of relief. She climbed off, landing in the knee-deep water at my side.

“I haven’t been here for years,” she said.

“Me neither. But I bet they still have ice cream. You want?”

Arching a brow, she placed a hand on her hip. “I know we haven’t really spoken in a year, but have you ever heard me turn down ice cream?”

Grinning, I shook my head. “Nope. Bacon and ice cream... always a good idea in Jo’s world.”

“Exactly.”

“Grab my wallet out of the dry bag.”

When she leaned over the jet ski to open the cubby and retrieve my wallet, my eyes took on a life of their own and raked across her figure. Feeling like I was violating our friend oath, I slammed them shut and inhaled a stilling breath.

“What are you doing?” she asked, and I opened my eyes to see her staring, my wallet clutched in her hand.

“Uh, sand or something. Maybe a bug. Just got in my eye.”