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I don’t know how to feel about the way that makes my stomach flip-flop. “How do you mean?”
“He’s smitten.” Lovey bites her lip. “I’ve been friends with BJ since we could blow spit bubbles. He’s usually a dive-in-head-first-let-the-hormones-take-the-reins kind of guy, but you’re different. He really likes you.” She hands me a plush beach towel. “Anyway, I’m glad you came tonight. I’ve been bugging BJ to invite you to hang out and not keep you all to himself.”
“I’m glad too,” I say, and I mean it. Since the move, I haven’t had much of a chance to see friends, and even before that, most of the time if I wasn’t working or playing pick-up at the old rink, I was studying. My social life has been pretty lackluster until this week.
It’s closing in on seven. The sun is moving toward the horizon, but we still have more than an hour of daylight left. When we return, BJ is sitting on one of the many Adirondack chairs placed in a semicircle on the wide dock. His head is tipped back, sunglasses shielding his eyes. He’s lost his shirt, and I can finally see the extent of his artwork. The tattoos that cover his right arm continue across the right side of his chest and down his ribs, disappearing into the waistband of his bathing suit shorts, a wash of vibrant watercolor. I take it all in—the way it curves around his long, lean limbs, how it seems to follow the dips and ridges of his abs. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I find BJ so appealing. I know he’s strong—I’ve seen him lift his partner—but nothing about him is imposing or intimidating.
“Who wants to take the boatercycles out?” Lovey shouts as we pad down the stone steps.
Three are tied to one side of the dock. It blows my mind that there’s close to a quarter of a million dollars in water toys attached to this property. Will these fragile bonds of friendship expire with the summer? I’m already getting caught up in this world, tangled in the vines.
“Dibs on—hot damn.” BJ pulls his sunglasses down, and I can see his eyes as they rove over me. “Excellent bathing suit choice, Snowflake.”
Lovey nudges me with her elbow. “Told you.”
“Oh my God!” Rose grabs the arms of her chair. “You already have a pet name for Winter, and it’s so cute, it makes me want to vomit rainbows and hearts.”
Quinn snorts and BJ shrugs, but he’s grinning while I’m over here blushing.
“Ignore the noise. You ride with me.” BJ stands and holds out his hand.
I take it and let him lead me over to the black boatercycle.
Laughlin lazily pushes out of his chair. “You’re mine, Rosebud.”
Her mouth drops open and then clamps shut. She fires the double bird at him. “Fuck you, Laughlin.”
Everyone stills for a moment. I don’t understand what’s going on.
“You don’t think my nickname is cute?” Laughlin approaches her slowly, sort of like a panther sizing up his prey. His hair is dark like the night, and his pale blue eyes are almost iridescent. It’s a little unnerving. Everything about him is. He has a vibe, like he’s a powder keg waiting for an excuse to blow. “As much as I enjoy Quinn’s company, I’m not interested in being that close to him unless one of us is checking the other into the boards, and Lovey is my sister, so it looks like you’re stuck with me. On the upside, I have it on good authority that one of your preferred Butterson brothers is on water patrol this evening. Seems like the perfect opportunity to create some tension, wouldn’t you agree?”
Rose rolls her eyes and uses her foot to push him back so she can stand. “I’m driving.”
I give BJ a questioning look.
He shrugs and passes me a life jacket.
I put it on and buckle up, adjusting the straps so it fits while everyone else does the same. Rose and Laughlin are first to leave the dock with Rose sitting in front, Laughlin’s body bracketing hers. They’re followed by Quinn and Lovey, who wave as they speed off.
“I’ve got my boater’s license, but I’ve never been on a boatercycle before,” I admit.
Obviously I’ve seen them all over the lake. Been annoyed when they circle relentlessly, the drone and pitch of the motors as irritating as a mosquito buzzing around my ear. Felt that deep pang of envy followed by the longing to have the wind whipping through my hair. And now I get to ride one with BJ. It’s a double win.
If my admission surprises him, he doesn’t show it. “You can sit up front and I’ll give you a quick lesson. They’re pretty easy.”
“Yeah. Okay. Sounds good.” I climb on and scoot forward to give him room.
The watercraft rocks gently as he takes his place behind me. His legs frame mine, and his chest presses against my back. “Hi.” His lips brush my cheek, and he pushes us away from the dock with his foot.
“Hi.”
“You ready to ride?”
“The boatercycle or you? Because frankly, both.”
He laughs and nuzzles into my neck. “Patience, Snowflake. I promise I’m not going back on the deal. But first, you learn how to ride this.” He taps the watercraft. “Then—”
“Fingerbang Friday?”
