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“You’re on.” She fumbles with her clothing, making quick work of all the items.
/> Like an idiot, all I can do is stare at her once she reveals her damn bright pink bikini. It’s nothing but two scraps of fabric poorly concealing her chest. She turns around to tuck her shorts into her backpack, and I’m hit with the perfect view of her ass.
Whoever made thong bikinis deserves a thank-you card signed by yours truly—a man who will be undoubtedly stuck with a permanent boner today.
“Fuck.” My dick pulses to life in my swim trunks. The fabric tents in the front, and I do nothing to conceal it.
“Hello! You’re not even trying. And that’s saying something when you only need to take off your shirt.” She waves her hands at my fully-clothed chest.
I grip onto my T-shirt and rip it off my head. “Happy now?”
“Elated!” She flashes me a grin before it drops. Her eyes bounce between me and the back of the boat.
Ah. I’m blocking her only way off. “And here you were, feeling confident about winning.”
Her smile becomes something devious. “Oh, Santiago. When will you realize I’m not going to do what you expect of me?”
I don’t have a chance to question what she means. Chloe turns and dashes toward the front of the boat. Her bouncing ass is the last thing I see as she dives off the bow.
Damn. This girl is nothing I’d expect, but everything I want. I won’t stop until she’s mine. No disability or shitty news about her dad can stop me from claiming her for myself.
If I have a say in things, Chloe Carter will never want for anything again.
“Hey, loser! Do you plan on staring at the view all day or are you actually going to get in the water?” Chloe calls out from the back of the boat.
I walk to the back platform. My eyes drop to my prosthetic leg, and a rush of emotion hits me. But it’s not the usual negative thoughts. I’m not concerned with how Chloe views me because of my leg. I’m not worried about showing this part of myself and bracing for disgust.
I’m not worried. Period. End of story. But rather, I’m proud. The idea hits me out of nowhere, and I stumble. Proud?
I straighten my spine. Yes, proud. This is me, and this is the person Chloe has always accepted. Hell, this is the person I accept. None of it would’ve been possible to begin with without Chloe. Because of her and my push toward rejoining F1, I can finally embrace some confidence.
Chloe’s head pops up from under the surface. Beads of water drip down her face, coating her lashes and cheeks, dripping into her smile lines. “Do you always check yourself out this much? I know you’re sexy and all, but narcissism is only endearing to a certain extent.”
I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously funny.”
There goes that weird feeling in my chest again. The guilt from her situation sits heavy inside of me, eating away at my good mood.
I shake my head. Stop it.
I take a breath and jump into the water, splashing water all over Chloe. Her laugh is the last thing I hear before I sink beneath the surface.
She jumps on my back the moment I pop back up. I hold on to her and spin us around in circles, choosing to enjoy today. I’ll worry about tomorrow once it gets here because there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Some things are out of my control, and like Chloe says, it is what it is.
41
Chloe
I wake up ready to take on the day. After spending yesterday with Santiago, I reminded myself that people take time to warm up. Santiago is the perfect example of that. A few short months ago, he wouldn’t let me see his stump, let alone go on the boat with him. But yesterday, he let loose in the broad daylight and had fun with me. He was in full-on prosthetic mode and he didn’t even so much as flinch at his leg.
I won’t lie, a few tears of joy left my eyes. But it was a beautiful sight, with him not hiding his true self from me.
Santiago’s big accomplishment reminded me how Matteo needs time too. How people need to process their feelings. I did tell Matteo I was his daughter after all, and it’s not exactly something that can be easily digested after one day. So, I lowered my expectations after rethinking my situation.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Santiago paces the front entryway of his house.
