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“You weren’t even playing the same game,” I snort before climbing up the stairs and joining her on deck. “Hey.”
“Hi. So…”
“So…” I mimic.
“So, if you guys are going to talk about me, you should probably make sure to do it behind closed doors, or where the sound doesn’t travel upward to where I’m standing.”
Believe it or not, I blush. I’ve never blushed in my life. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m pretty sure I blushed in high school, freshman year, when the senior head cheerleader walked into Science class and gave me a little smile. You don’t want to know what sort of embarrassing things happened in my pants that day.
“Oh, sorry. Rhenn doesn’t think sometimes. Actually, all of the time. He sort of just speaks without thinking. You don’t have to worry about him, though. He won’t bother you,” I assure her.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not worried about him.” Then she walks over to her bag and pulls out sunscreen. I watch, helplessly, as she lathers up her arms and legs, making sure the thoughts filtering through my mind are completely inappropriate.
“Ready to hit the water, Romeo?” Rhenn comes up behind me and slaps me on the back. Hard.
I don’t flinch as I turn toward my friend. “Let’s do this.”
Together, we get his boat ready to sail, and fifteen minutes later, we’re slowly making our way through the harbor and out to the Bay. It really is a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly, with not a cloud in the sky. Plus, there’s a beautiful woman sitting port side across from me. Her hair is pulled up high on her head, a pair of big, dark sunglasses don her face, and she keeps looking up at the sky and smiling, as if she enjoys feeling the wind and sun on her face.
Realization sets in, hard and fast. Meghan Summer may very well be the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met, and what I’m starting to feel for her goes so much deeper than the friend’s category. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, whether in scrubs or dressed up. She’s sweet and loyal. Her smile could brighten even the darkest nights.
And she’s in love with a ghost.
We sail for approximately an hour and a half, and no one so much as utters a word. Rhenn, though slightly reckless with his personal life, is great behind the helm. He maintains a great speed, but never goes too fast. His boat is built for speed, but he doesn’t quite stretch her legs in the open waters. For that, I’m grateful. He doesn’t need to scare the shit out of Meghan like he has women before.
Honestly, I think he only does it in hopes of blowing their bikini tops off.
Rhenn finally slows down and comes to a stop. “This okay?” he asks me, which earns a nod in return.
“Looks good.”
I jump up as he releases the anchor and prepares for our afternoon. We’re a few miles out from land, but toward the southern edge of Virginia. We’ve sailed down here several times before. It’s a gorgeous and common area for boats to gather, with minimal waves. There are already about a dozen boats in around us, though no one gets close enough to bother any other boaters.
Meghan hops up and stretches, the hem of her tank top riding up a bit on her stomach, exposing smooth, creamy flesh that makes my mouth water.
“I’m heading down to grab the food,” I announce, taking the stairs below to put a bit of distance between me and the only woman on board.
“I’ll help,” she replies, quickly following me down below.
Great.
So much for trying to give myself a few minutes to calm down. You know, think shit out. Nothing calms a half-mast dick like thinking about your ancient English teacher with her black knee-high socks and floral calf-length skirts.
Together, we pull the containers of chicken salad, coleslaw, and potato salad from the fridge. I grab the bag with chips and buns and set a few bottles of water in the bottom before turning back to the stairway. “I’ll grab utensils,” Meghan adds, her arms loaded with food.
Back on deck, we work seamlessly to set lunch out on the table. “You didn’t bring beer? What’s this water shit?” Rhenn asks, making a face at the bottles of water.
“You can have beer after you drink some water,” I tell him.
“Thanks, Mommy.” He pops the top off the first bottle and chugs away. When it’s empty, he heads below, only to return a few moments later with a bottle of Coors Light. “Ahhh, this is better.”
I pull out a chair and start to make a sandwich. Meghan joins me, reaching for a bun, and that’s when I notice something is missing.
Her tank top.
She took off her fucking top, her blue and yellow bikini top on full display. I almost groan. Almost. My eyes are riveted to her chest like some perv getting his rocks off. I’m such an asshole.
“So tell me about the boat. Did you pick the name?” Meghan asks Rhenn when he joins us at the table.
