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“About what?” He drawls the question, but I don’t miss the tension that’s spread from his hands to the rest of his body.
“Your buddy Joe mentioned a couple of interesting things just now.”
His jaw works. “Oh yeah?”
Whatever the group was talking about before has fallen prey to silence. No one in a twenty-foot radius is making any attempt to act like they aren’t hanging on to every word passing between me and Elliot.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “What the fuck, Elliot? You decided I’m ‘off limits’? You don’townme. I can make my own damn decisions.”
“Fine.” His word and actions are a sharp contrast. An easy, acquiescing word paired with a tense posture and tight tone.
“Fine,” I repeat.
We stare at each other for a minute before his expression shifts. “Denny…”
I shake my head. “Don’t.” Then, I brush past him and head inside.
Auden
“Auden.”
“What?” I keep my gaze on the water, studying the moonlight as it dances across the ripples. It’s peaceful, especially now that the backyard is empty and quiet.
He takes a seat beside me. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’ve seen how the guys act with girls, heard the way they talk about—I’m sorry. It wasn’t…” He huffs a sigh and looks out at the water. “I…I implied it once, that first summer. One of the guys was looking at you and I made it clear to him, knowing it would spread. I knew you had a lot going on with your parents, and I didn’t think you’d want to get hassled by horny guys. I can, uh, say something to Joe.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not interested in a guy who needs yourpermissionto touch me.”
“If you like him—”
“I don’t even know him. I overreacted.”
“No, you didn’t. I don’t own you. We’ve never actually dated.”
“Right.” My voice is wooden, bereft of any emotion.
Elliot swears. “Denny, I’m trying to—”
“Forget it, Elliot. I had a couple of beers and wanted a hookup. Whatever.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t give him a chance. I stand. “Let’s swim.” I yank my dress up over my head, leaving me in the bikini I’ve worn all day.
Elliot hesitates before he stands as well. I can feel his eyes on my body like a physical touch. They drift up my legs and over the bottoms, over my stomach, lingering on the triangles of fabric covering my boobs before resting on my face. Wordlessly, he yanks his white t-shirt over his head, leaving him in just his black swim trunks.
There’s a breeze drifting across the surface of the lake, but I’m feeling overheated. My arm trembles as I resist the urge to raise my hand and touch all the golden skin laid out before me like a perfectly proportioned map. Something shifts and sizzles in the air. I watch it register on his face.
“You trying to get over your aversion to cold water?” He’s trying to lighten the mood, relieve the tension, dispel the awareness simmering between us.
I don’t let him. “I’mtryingto get over alotof things.”
His jaw clenches as my tone registers. “We should wear life jackets. It’s dark.”
I follow Elliot into the boat house at the edge of the dock. He flicks the light on, illuminating the small space inside. Two canoes sit on a rack attached to the wall. There’s a neat stack of towels on one shelf, along with a bunch of bottles of sunscreen and a collection of sunhats. Elliot heads straight for the hanging row of life jackets, obviously familiar with the layout. I wander toward the canoes, running one hand along the curved, varnished wood. Oars are lined up against the wall. I grab one, testing the weight.
“Okay. Here you—”
Elliot’s voice is right behind me. I startle, spinning around and dropping the oar. Elliot grabs me with one hand and the oar with the other. He sets it back against the wall and keeps me upright.
