AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I follow after him, and as soon as my body leaves the water, I shiver. Somehow, I grew accustomed enough to the cold water that leaving it feels like a real shock. I shed the waterlogged life jacket and grab a dry towel to wrap around my shoulders as Oliver and one of Cassie’s friends jump into the water and start swimming toward the tube. I sink back into the same seat as before. Elliot takes a seat beside me. I dry my arms and hair, then grab the tube of sunscreen and start spreading it on my skin. For a native California girl, I burn easily.
The boat lurches into movement again as I spread the white paste over my arms and behind my neck, stretching to get the elusive spot between my shoulder blades. Before I can reach it—or attempt to, at least—a warm, calloused hand takes over.
Butterflies—not one or two, but a whole flock of them—swarm my stomach.
I know who’s sitting next to me. I don’t need to glance over to confirm, but I do. Elliot appears unaffected, busy talking with Lucas, who’s sitting closest to him, about—what else? Hockey.
I’m not sure what there is to discuss since it’s summer and even my limited knowledge of the sport is enough to know the professional season ended weeks ago, but they’ve managed to come up with something.
The sunscreen cap gets twisted back on. I look out at the water, sparkling in the sunlight. I think I’ve become a lake person. The only thing I miss about the ocean is its salty scent and wavy whitecaps.
Glancing away from the water, I make the mistake of looking at the captain’s chair. Driving the boat hasn’t kept Josh from noticing where Elliot’s right hand is. He’s stopped rubbing the sunscreen in, but his fingertips are still pressed against my upper back, searing the skin like a branded burn. I look away from Josh’s smirk and return my gaze to the water, skimming over the envious stares of the three girls who obviously didn’t miss what just happened, either.
“Luke! Can you toss the front buoy out?” Josh calls. We’re headed back toward the shore as the sun drops, bathing everything in golden light.
“Yeah. Sure.” Luke stands and heads for the bow of the boat.
Elliot glances over at me as soon as Luke leaves, ending the hockey conversation. His hand drifts upward, playing with the loose strands of hair the wind has tugged out of my ponytail.
My eyes widen with questions I’d ask if we were alone. He smirks.
Sometimes it hits me all over again, how disgustingly good looking he is. I know his face so well, yet there are still moments like these when I blink and it’s justwow. Either he’s just exactly my type, or I modeled my type after him. The short dark hair and haunting blue-gray eyes look the same as they did in that coffee shop. But he’s changed—grown up, filled out. More of a man than a boy.
“You missed some spots.” His voice ghosts over the back of my neck as his thumb traces my skin, raising goose bumps I hope he’ll chalk up to the breeze, although I’m not under any delusions my acting skills are impressive enough that Elliot is unaware I’m attracted to him.
“My hair will cover them. I only put it up for the boat.” I lean back, forcing him to move his hand up to the back of the seat. “Or I’ll put my dress back on.”
Elliot makes anIf you say sosound before glancing away. I don’t miss the flick downward first, though. I’m only wearing my bikini top. The life jacket was soaked, and I didn’t want to get my dress wet.
He just got a good look at what I’ve got going on upstairs. They’re far from double Ds but more than a handful. The few guys who have had theprivilege—seriously, one guy used that word—of seeing me topless sure haven’t complained. But none of those guys were Elliot Reid, and his opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s—combined.
A heap of fabric lands in my lap. “Here. You can wear that.”
“I’m wet.” Elliot doesn’t so much as smirk at the innocent innuendo any other guy would probably pounce on. He seems upset or bothered all of a sudden, and it’s flustering me. “Mysuitis still wet. That’s why I didn’t put my dress back on.”
“It’s fine.” It’snot, though, because wearing Elliot’s shirt means two things. One, everyone’s attention will be on me, wondering if our fake relationship is fake back on again (minus the fakes). Two, if I’m wearing his shirt, that means Elliot is not. I don’t want to stare at his abs, and I don’t want every other girl here ogling his six-pack, either.
I feel like I can tell Elliot anything, but the mountain of what I don’t say is piling up.
“Okay. Thanks.” I tug his shirt over my head. It smells like his cologne: woodsy and masculine.
Elliot nods, then gets up to help tie the boat to the dock.
He’s my best friend.
He’s also the guy I’m in love with.
We’ve danced around the subject since we met, since the night I asked him if he was asking me out and he told he liked me too much to date me. I get what he meant, but it doesn’t exactly give me a whole lot to work with. I’m supposed to make him like me less?
To his credit, it wasn’t a line. I’ve never seen him even act interested in another girl. Even if he didn’t tell me himself, I have no doubt plenty of people in this town would take great pleasure in informing me.
As much as that would suck, it would be some closure. I wouldn’t be hovering in this uncertainty, waiting and hoping he’ll realize there’s more to life than hockey— realizehe’smore than hockey.
About an hour later, we return to the dock, the scent of cooking meat wafting from the backyard patio that’s surrounded by the expansive yard. The large crowd from earlier has somehow multiplied even further from when we arrived, the lawn swarming with bathing-suit-clad teenagers.
After several attempts, Josh maneuvers close enough to the dock that Elliot and Luke are able to leap from the boat to tie it up. As soon as we’re no longer floating, everyone jumps up, eager to get off the boat and get food—or drinks. I lay my soaking towel over one of the white vinyl seats.
I’m the last one to disembark. Elliot is kneeling on the dock, securing the knot on the cleat. I step onto the solid wood, admiring the flex of his forearms as he deftly twists the rope. He stands after giving it a few jerks to confirm the boat won’t be departing unexpectedly.
