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And if we’d gotten any closer, we might have kissed. Which, in reality, was probably less of a possibility, the more I think of it. We were freezing to death.
I reach the shore, and I get the sudden urge to do that thing they do in movies where there’s a shipwreck and the character swims to a deserted island for safety. They claw their way through the sand and then turn over on their back, heaving breaths and crying tears of gratitude that they survived.
Except, I’m now out of the water, on all fours in the sand, and my dress is twisted up around my rib cage. In nothing but my underwear, my booty is on fully display. I panic and jam the dress down over my hips again. The fabric is so water-logged, it takes longer to fix than is at all acceptable.
I half wish I had drowned in the drink, as Oliver called it. Then I would have been certain he didn’t just see my rear end as I tried to peel the dress down and away from my skin.
Why had I worn this today? I’d been doing so well at wearing the most unsexy clothing I could find. But it’s almost laundry day and my pickings were getting slim. Besides, the county council had scheduled a quarterly drop in at the mobile library, and I wanted to look more professional than I had in yesterday’s sweat suit.
As soon as I’m as decent as can be expected, I stand and turn around to find Oliver. I don’t see him anywhere, and the panic I felt at being mostly naked is nothing compared to the alarm inside of me now.
Where is he? How long has he been under water?
“Oliver!”
I take a couple of steps into the water, getting to where it hits my knees, before he rises to the surface a few yards in front of me and takes a big breath. He must have been doing one of those underwater glides like he’s in the summer Olympics. I notice a rope from the boat in one of his hands and it moves along behind him.
“You’re almost there, Oliver,” I encourage, guilt at putting us in this predicament pawing at my insides. If I’d only better checked the bottom of the boat! In my defense, though, he was trigger happy.
I check my dress again to make sure I’m decent. Even though it’s sticking to my skin as if it’s been coated in nail glue and I’m one large nail bed, I think I’m adequately covered. He reaches the shore, heaving the boat up onto the sandbar.
I kneel down beside him, taking a second to look at his bare upper half—chiseled, taut skin—before he opens his eyes and my gaze skitters away.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his skin just starting to turn back to its normal color.
“I should be asking you that question.”
“I’m good.” He’s breathing heavily and I can’t help but watch the precision and gorgeousness that is his torso as his chest and abdomen work in sync. “It’s like I’m Wim Hoff. I’ve never felt so alive.” He grins, lifts his arms, and places his hands behind his head, his breath rate slowing down.
“Vim who?”
He chuckles, his gaze taking me in, pausing a moment at the dress that now feels two sizes too small. “Wim Hoff. That Dutch guy who promotes Arctic plunges. He says they give a state of euphoria like a high from a drug. Lots of people do it.” He drops his hands.
Huh. I could see that maybe being a possibility. The cold water did shock me into a state of energy. I shift my position so that I’m leaning on my hand and have my legs together and curled up on the other side. I glance at the sky, willing the sun to dry me off more quickly. I feel so exposed.
The strange thing is, I don’t exactly mind it. Being exposed and vulnerable. Maybe there is something to the idea that Arctic plunges give you clarity. Or make you crazy stupid. Who knows right now? Because my mind is going random, unholy places, dwelling on thoughts of Oliver. I don’t care about all the reasons he and I can never be together. I don’t care that he’ll be moving back to Capri, or that he’s not the settling down type.
All I care about is feeling his warmth on my skin. Finally tasting his lips. To heck with the fact that we both have lake water on us. Longdale Lake’s known for being crystal clean, right?
And that’s when I know that the Dutch guy, Vlim Shoff, Wim Hoff, or whoever he is, knows what he’s talking about. I don’t care anymore about all the reasons why I’ve told myself no, where Oliver is concerned. I have more clarity than I have in years and the truth is, I want Oliver. Not just his lips to claim mine here on this beach that is, let’s face it, rocky, weedy, and a bit smelly. Warm Hawaiian white sand this is not. But I want Oliver in my life for good. I want him to stay here in Longdale. I don’t want him to go back to Capri.
He sits up, too. I glance down and a piece of my hair, still wet, falls in front of my eyes. He reaches up to brush it off my face, pinning it behind one ear. My skin tingles at his touch. His fingertips pulse more warmth into my body than any amount of sunlight could.
All the rest of me—except for the area above my ear that he just touched—breaks out in goosebumps again and I shiver, the electric current between us giving me erratic bursts of giddiness.
“You’re cold,” Oliver states quietly, his eyes glancing over me with care. He scoots closer to me, wrapping me up in his arms. He sits cross-legged. “Here just lie your head down in my lap and then I’ll put my arm like this.” I do it, and he lays his arm along the length of mine, rubbing my skin gently.
“Thanks,” I whisper, and I’m seized with more violent tremors. Come on, body. Warm up!
“Oh, man,” he says. “We might need to do something more extreme. You’re freezing.” His gaze rakes over me, his eyes hooded. “I think it’s medically pertinent that we get out of these wet things and get really close, skin to skin.”
I snort, remembering a scene from one of my favorite guilty pleasures. ”Like in the third book of theTwilightseries when Bella and Jacob have to have skin-to-skin contact?” I look up at him, breathing in the concern on his face.
“It saved her life, didn’t it? And maybe the lives of countless others who read the book. I consider it a Public Service Announcement.”
“In your dreams.” I make a squawking sound. “It’s probably sixty degrees out,” I say. “I’m not going to die.”
“Hey, it could save you from a great deal of discomfort. For medical purposes only.” He holds up his palms, his facial expression wreaking of feigned innocence.
