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“Gavin, I—” I break off with a gasp, as at this exact moment, the moment when I’m foolishly about to tell him about how long I’ve wanted him to notice me, how often I think about him, want to talk to him, want to kiss him and definitely more… My fishing rod goes crazy. The reel lets out a buzzing noise as the line is being pulled at really quick speed. I stare in disbelief as the rod starts sliding down the dock.
Gavin must be as shocked as I am, because he doesn’t reach over and grab the pole either. Actually, we both kind of stare at the rod not sure what’s happening when all at once it makes a plopping noise as it falls into the water.
“Shit,” Gavin mutters.
“We have to get it.”
“Babe—”
“It’s your fishing rod, Gavin.”
“It’s not that important.”
“It is. You brought it for me to use and we have to get it.”
“Babe the reel is—”
“I’ll get it,” I volunteer, feeling guilty, because I did put it down. In my defense I didn’t think a giant killer fish would attack while I was otherwise occupied. My face flushes as I remember what Gavin and I were doing only moments earlier. I swear I can still feel his hand under my breast, and I miss the feel of it.
“Babe you don’t have to—”
“I said I’ll get it.”
I stand and slide my cut offs down my legs, stepping out of them and tossing them to the side with my flip flops. Then I yank my shirt off and let it join them.
“Babe, you don’t have to jump in the water. I won’t say no to you standing there the rest of the day modeling that bikini though,” Gavin says.
I look at him in surprise then smile because apparently, he likes my plain white bikini. I guess obsessing over if I should have worn something sexier was worrying over nothing.
“You could get in the water with me,” I suggest.
“I like the idea of watching you model for me more.”
I roll my eyes, looking heavenward. “Whatever,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I mean if you’re scared to get in the water, I guess it’s up to me to save the day,” I tease. Then, I jump into the water. I look back at the dock to see Gavin laughing. He’s taking off his shoes, socks, and shirt. He keeps his jeans on, which is disappointing, but he jumps in. I start sputtering because his splashing into the water nearly drowns me. I wipe the water off my face all over again, kicking my legs to stay afloat.
“You’re going to be a handful, Luna Marshall,” he drones when he gets in front of me and then, he’s kissing me again.
Maybe I should worry, but it sounds like Gavin likes me just the way I am, so instead, I kiss him until we slide under the water and kick back to the surface again.
Chapter Twenty
Gavin
“You haven’t been around the house much on the weekends. I thought you were working, but you weren’t at the grocery store today. Where have you been?”
I ignore the urge to hit my brother and tell him that it’s not any of his business where I’m at.
“I didn’t realize that you had such an unhealthy fascination with my life, Atticus.”
“Just wondering what you’re up to,” he deflects, flopping on his bed.
I’m sure he’d like to know, but I’m not about to tell him—at least not right now. I want to keep it to myself for as long as I can. Luna and I have officially been seeing each other for three months now. Almost all of my weekends I spend with her and occasionally we get Wednesday nights together for a couple of hours. Even so, that’s not enough time. I want to spend every waking moment with her. I’ve never felt like this before. I knew Luna Marshall was dangerous, but I don’t think I appreciated how deeply I would become addicted to her.
And I’m definitely addicted.
“Not up to nothing, just school and work. I get some time off the last thing I want to do is come back here, so I find other places to be.”
It’s the truth, but not. Hopefully it’s enough to satisfy him. I don’t really give a damn, but I’d rather not have him snooping around Luna and me. Not right now. Things are going too good right now to have my asshole brother get involved and fuck it up.
“There are rumors going around at school that you’re seeing a girl.”
“Don’t you have enough to worry about in your own life, Atticus? Do you have to be obsessed with mine?”
“I’m not obsessed with you.”
“It sure as hell feels like it. Do me a favor and worry about your own shit and stay out of mine.”
