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“Okay, so where’s your number one, then?”

I gathered the cuffs of my hoodie in the palms of my hands, squirming. Should I lie? Knowing Carson, he would say I wanted Duke because of him, if for no other reason than to irritate me.

“Uh, Duke, actually,” I muttered.

Carson sat up. “For real?”

I barked out a laugh. “I kid you not.”

He stared at me a moment before a smile snaked over his features. “I knew you’d miss me next year. Couldn’t stay away, Shorty?”

I scoffed. “You wish. In fact, now that I know that’s where you’re going, I’m reevaluating all my life choices. I’m thinking Sweet Water Community College sounds pretty good right about now.”

“Right. Like you’re not secretly filled with joy at the thought.” He leaned back on his elbows, his shirt tightening over his chest.

“More like dread.”

Carson chuckled. “I’m surprised. I took you as a lifer like Ethan.”

“No, I need out of here.” The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Crap. That one sentence revealed too much.

Carson’s brow creased, and I glanced away, adding, “I’m surprised by you though. For someone who loves to swim and loves the beach as much as you do, I would’ve thought you’d want to stay right here in Sweet Water.”

“Eh. You can swim anywhere, and Duke has an amazing swim program, unlike the colleges nearby. Plus, there happens to be an ex-Olympian there who wants to work with me. I love it here, and Sweet Water will always be home, but I want to try new things, new places. I need something to keep me on my toes. Sweet Water is just so…”

“Limiting,” we said in unison.

Our eyes locked, and my stomach dipped. Clearing my throat, I said, “Anyway, we should probably get started.”

From the corner of my eye, I noticed his small frown before it disappeared. “Okay, I’m ready. Hit me with it. How much work is it?”

I rummaged through my bag, retrieving the folder, then opened it and spread the contents out on Carson’s desk. “So, I went through everything Mrs. Parks gave us, then I also did a little planning.” I took out the spreadsheets I made with our divided tasks and stood, handing it to him.

“I think if we put our minds to it, we can knock out a lot of the work this weekend and be done in a week or so with only delivery left and minimal interaction on our part.”

He grunted at the spreadsheet. “I don’t know if that works for me.”

“Well, I just thought we could divide and conquer.” Since we can’t stand each other. “I figured it might go. . .uh. . .more smoothly. I made a list. So, if you want to see if there’s anything you think we should add,” I said, motioning toward the paper, “now’s the time.”

He stood and moved next to me, peering down at the spreadsheet from over my shoulder. He was a giant with me sitting below him, and I squirmed in his proximity. I could practically feel him breathing down my neck from above.

“If we get the tree up this weekend and rake in some more donors, then all we’ll have left to do is the shopping and delivery,” I said.

“There’s only one problem with all of this.”

“What?” I blinked up at him.

“I have meets all day Saturday, and then Sunday we have—”

“Carson, I can’t wait for you to be free. I mean, I realize swimming is important, and you have a social life, but this is important, too. It’s either we complete this, or we take the suspension, which from the sounds of things, isn’t a viable option for either of us if I want to gain early admission and you want to keep your scholarship.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I get that. And I realize that my schedule makes things difficult, but it is what it is.”

It is what it is? Why was he always so cavalier about everything? It

was super annoying. Maybe the most annoying thing about him on a long, long list.

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