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Part One

Elliot Anneston certainly hadn’t expected his night to take such a turn.

He was supposed to be studying for his semi-finals debate. Supposed to be practicing persuasive arguments with his second speaker, Kyle. Supposed to be in bed by ten.

Instead it was midnight, he’d tracked Kyle to a party on the outskirts of Port Ratapu, and the only debate to be had was whether or not Kyle should keep his boxers on.

Elliot was arguing decidedly in the affirmative.

A sleazy laugh pushed the stench of alcohol into Elliot’s face and he stepped back a half foot. The house pulsed with music behind him and the still surface of the pool quivered. He and Kyle were outside. Alone.

“You dragged me out here, Elliot.”

Yes. He’d hoped the fresh air would sober him up. No such luck. Neither was it deterring him from flashing what nature gave him. “Not as an invitation to skinny dip.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“We have semi-finals tomorrow.”

Music swelled, followed by the thump of a closing door. No longer alone, possibly. Elliot didn’t turn to investigate. He lowered his voice and shielded Kyle with his body. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with the drunken show Kyle was putting on, but this would be mortifying in the morning. Some dignity, he could offer.

Kyle leered and spoke low and husky. “I’ll totally go down on you first.”

“What?”

Kyle inched down the waist of his boxers, revealing some hair and the base of his arousal.

So much for saving his dignity. Elliot took a decent step back.

Kyle followed. “Yeah, I see you looking at me.”

“In shock, I can assure you.”

Another inch, over the globes of his arse. “Don’t worry, I don’t care if yours isn’t this big.”

“Not what I meant. Now pull them back up.”

Kyle cocked his head, frowning. “But . . .”

Elliot scooped Kyle’s T-shirt from the ground and tossed it to him. “That on too.”

Kyle caught it against his chest and burped. “But you’re gay.”

“Bisexual.”

“Close enough.”

Elliot stared blankly at him. He wasn’t serious?

“It’d be better than using our right hand.”

Apparently, he was.

“Putting aside a pitiable lack of romance,” Elliot hummed, “for a debater, I expected better argumentation.”

Kyle dropped his T-shirt and shoved his boxers to his ankles. “Does this change your mind?”

Movement flashed in Elliot’s peripheral vision, out of the shadows of the house, but Elliot doubled his focus on Kyle. His splayed hands met Kyle’s chest, and he shoved.

Kyle shrieked and hit the pool with a nasty smack, arms flapping. Water splashed Elliot’s jeans from thigh to ankle.

Elliot crouched as Kyle came up spluttering, and tried to fish him out—

“Well. If you hadnae done that, I would’ve.”

Elliot had been well aware of the witness at his side, but the accent surprised him.

He glanced up—a long way up—and palmed the wet ground to steady himself. Elliot wasn’t much for parties—this was the first one he’d been at since starting sixth form—but he was deeply involved in school. He knew everyone dancing inside, even the older siblings who had already left Fern Valley. But this guy he’d never seen. He’d have remembered.

Broad, tapered and muscular. Hair, a wavy dark rust. He was, to be frank, stunning. A cheerful bull, who could carry half the world on his shoulders.

He grinned, eyes dancing, and the air around Elliot warmed.

Cold water hit his face and Elliot snapped toward his more pressing concern. Kyle cackled and kicked water in his naked—thankfully shrivelled—glory.

“He deserved it,” Elliot murmured, “but he has to be freezing in there.”

“Seems cheerful enough to me.”

“He’s drunk. He doesn’t feel the chill. Kyle! Kyle. Come out.”

Kyle stood. The water was only up to his chest, but if he stepped back too much, he’d be nearing the deep end. “I am out. Or was I not clear enough?”

Good grief. “Out of the pool.”

Eyes sparkled, and Kyle waggled his bushy brows. “For a debater, I expected better argumentation.”

“Cheeky fella. I vote we leave ’im to it.”

Elliot shivered. Was it because Scottish Guy had clearly overheard his entire conversation? Or was it that . . . accent?

He shrugged it off. “Alcohol and big bodies of water shouldn’t mix. He might drown.”

Kyle called out. “Promise you’ll kiss me and I’ll leap into your arms.”

Scottish Guy crouched next to him. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen, why?”

“You wouldnae be charged as an adult, like. Think aboot it.”

Elliot shook his head, laughing. Tempting as it was . . . He called back to Kyle. “Come out or we’ll come in and drag you out.”

“We?”

Good point. “Come out or this guy’ll come in and drag you out.” Elliot pointed his thumb at his new . . . at Scottish Guy.

Scottish Guy stared blankly at him.

“Well,” Elliot said. “I can’t swim well, so unless you want two bodies on your hands, you’ll have to do the honours.”

“Who are you?”

Elliot met a pair of amused eyes. “That’s a bloody good question. Who are you?”

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