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“Mav and Clover are on a date, I think. What shit did he pull last week?” BJ gives me an apologetic look.
“Uh, just…uh, making things awkward.”
“Right, okay. Well, Lovey is out there somewhere with Quinn, and Rose is with Dracula.”
Logan’s brows pull together. “Laughlin? What’s he doing hanging out with your crew?”
BJ shrugs. “Dunno, but he was on my dock when I got home.”
“I’m gonna go make sure Rose and Laughlin haven’t tried to drown each other.” He salutes us and starts his machine. “Sun goes down fast these days. Might want to head back soon,” he adds before spinning around and speeding off.
“Sorry about that,” BJ says.
“Not your fault. Kinda glad he didn’t see my come face, though.” I bite my lip. “I was hoping I could return the favor. For equity’s sake.”
“Why don’t we save that for later? He has a point about the sun setting.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” I trace the flower on his chest and let my fingers drift lower.
He catches my hand and brings it to his lips. “I’ve been dealing with nearly constant erections all week while I’m around you. I can handle waiting a little longer. And now that Logan knows we’re back here, it’s only a matter of time before someone else comes looking for us.”
“I didn’t think about that.”
“We’ve got nothing but time, Snowflake. No need to rush through all the fun parts.” He reaches around me and passes me my life jacket. It’s wet, and so is his, but we shrug back into them and buckle up.
We do a circuit around the lake, and he shows me where all the retired hockey players live. “The Kingstons and Winslows are just there, down the road from you.” He points to a huge A-frame and a two-story cottage set into the side of the hilly terrain. It boasts a beautiful view. Although most of the hillside cottages have great views.
We’re close to the shore, and I let my gaze skip across it, my stomach dropping when I spot our decrepit dock less than fifty feet away. Sitting in a folding lawn chair is my father, a six-pack of beer beside him, a cigarette in his hand, a pair of binoculars around his neck. Sometimes my mom likes to bird watch. Sometimes my dad likes to be a giant skeeze and watch people—namely women in bikinis—but I expected him to be out tonight, not at home, and certainly not on the dock. He lifts the binoculars, following us. Even as BJ turns us and heads for the center of the lake, I know Dad saw me. I feel it in the way the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“You okay?” BJ either heard my curse or feels the sudden tension in my body.
“We should head back,” I say.
By the time we reach his place, I’m anxious to go home and deal with the consequences. I hate that my dad’s potential anger so easily wipes out everything good about this day.
But I don’t want my dad to take my lie out on my mom.
I let BJ guide the watercraft to the dock and jump off as soon as he has it tied up.
He climbs off after me. “Was that your dad on the dock?”
“Yeah. I need to get home.” I struggle to free all three buckles, nerves making my hands shake.
“Will you get in trouble?” He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes concerned.
“I’ll be in less if I’m home sooner.” I shrug out of the jacket and hang it on a hook, re-clipping the buckle so it doesn’t blow into the water and disappear down the lake. That’s how my grandma inherited a few life jackets over the years, based on the names Sharpied inside them.
“Aren’t you allowed to hang out with friends?”
“Yeah, I can hang out with friends. It’s just…complicated.” My dad has a grudge against everyone who has more than we do.
“Do they know you’re here?”
I sigh. All that truth I laid out earlier is biting me in the ass. “I told my mom I was going to the library. My dad for sure saw me on the lake with you, so he’ll know I lied.”
“It’s not okay that your plans changed?”
