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Unwelcome warmth—a hot ember of guilt—burns in my stomach and spreads across my skin. It’s a flush the breeze doesn’t dissipate and the same one that appeared earlier when Liam mentioned his goals at Arlington.
My conversation with Wes a few weeks ago takes on new relevance and meaning. He obviously hasn’t told Liam he’s thinking of transferring to Arlington. I wonder if he’s told Maeve. Or if he decided against it altogether.
I alleviate a little of the guilt by admitting, “I was watching you earlier. You’re good, Liam.” He and the other guys played football on the beach for a bit this afternoon. Technically yesterday since it’s after midnight.
I wait for a quip about how he doesn’t need feedback from a former Alleghany cheerleader. Instead, he says, “You’re the first person to ever tell me that.”
I gape at him, stunned. “What? That you’re good?”
Liam raises a shoulder, then drops it. “My dad has been my coach since I could hold a football. He doesn’t compliment until he runs out of critiques. So far…that hasn’t happened.”
“That’s messed up. I mean, you’re playing for Arlington! You’re obviously good.”
He smirks at me, but there’s something softening in his expression that makes my insides feel like the marshmallows we roasted after finishing dinner.
“Don’t your teammates tell you that? Or a girlfriend?” My cheeks burn at that last question, and I really hope it’s dark enough Liam can’t tell.
“We celebrate wins and console after losses, sure. But that’s a team effort. And I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he confirms. After a long pause, he asks, “Were you and Cole…”
“No. No. We were expected. And it wasn’t just—I mean, we were friends, mostly. He told me about his parents a while ago. I’d tell him about my problems. We never dated. I’ve never really dated any guy.”
Liam doesn’t immediately respond. I count each of the seconds it takes him to say something. After twenty-two, he asks, “Is that why you’re dreading going home? Your parents?”
“Mostly my mom. My dad will be out of town for another week. She doesn’t do well when she’s alone. Or when I’m there. At all, really.” I sigh. “I keep thinking one of these times will be the tipping point. My mom will realize she needs help. My dad will run out of excuses. The cops won’t drop the charges after a call from some lawyer. It just…hasn’t happened yet.”
Another lengthy pause. “We should go for a swim.”
I glance at Liam, taken aback once again. Somehow, he keeps managing to catch me off guard. “What?”
Liam pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. It lands on the sand in a white puddle of cotton. My gaze lands on the thin trail of hair leading down into the waistband of his mesh shorts.
He says nothing, just watches me look.
“I’m, uh.” Embarrassingly, I have to clear my throat a couple of times. “I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”
“Neither am I.” Liam yanks his shorts down and runs into the water.
I stare after him, mouth agape. Before this exact moment, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested I’devergoskinny-dipping with Liam Stevens. Ever go skinny-dipping at all, honestly. It’s one of those things you joke about drunk, knowing you’d never actually go through with it.
Except Liam—the guy known for being serious, for being intense enough, a smile is a rarity—is going through with it. His head bobs under a wave and reemerges darker than before.
He glances back, still close enough to shore, I can see one eyebrow rise in a silent dare.
I use one finger to motion spinning around.
Liam’s shoulders shake with a laugh, but he obeys, turning so I can’t see his face and he can’t see me.
The rapid thrum of my heart could rival a hummingbird’s. My breaths come quick and erratic. I can’t really believe I’m about to do this. I can’t believe Iwantto do this. My fingers fumble as I pull off my sweatshirt and drop it in the sand next to Liam’s t-shirt. I shimmy out of my sleep shorts and drop them in the pile as well.
Chills break out across my bare skin as I stand in my underwear and a tank top. I glance over one shoulder, confirming there’s no one around. The beach is still silent and empty. None of the other houses have lights on.
I take a deep breath, shed the last of my clothing, and run into the ocean. Cold droplets of water fly around as I move deeper into the sea, gradually adjusting to the temperature as more and more of my body is submerged.
There’s something erotic about it—the feel of being naked in water. Or maybe it’s the guy glancing over and grinning that has lust swimming through my veins in heady doses.
