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Despite the rock demo in my brain, I grin. Woozy eyes glean how funny I truly am.
“Wanna know what other mayhem you and Stubby got into last night?”
“Nope.” I snatch the loofah from him. The pure exertion causes my teeth to rattle.
“You bet a hundred dollars, from my wallet, that you could smoke Tatum in a hundred-yard dash.”
While the soothing water pelts over us, I mumble, “I won, right?”
“No.”
“Damn my curiosity.”
His hands frame my face. “You both ended up tangled together and almost fell down the side of the mountain. Because of the near-death experience, Riv and Stubby had a love connection moment. Bravo, baby girl.”
I roll my eyes. “If this were any other circumstance, I’d root for them. But you only disclosed said info because you’re a dick.” I gnaw on the inside of my lip, then try again. “It was a tie, though?”
“It was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen, Willow.” He plucks a tiny leaf from the top of my head.
Hedging a grin, I quip, “Whatever, Mr. Boy Next Door Face.”
“I don’t get—”
I clutch my forehead staving off a giggle. “Boy next door infers that you have a pretty boy face, hah. Anyway, I know you want to laugh. But if you love me, promise me something, Cam.”
His thick mouth caresses my forehead. “Anything.”
“You will never let me drink again, not until the day I die.”
“Grog’s acceptable on your death bed?”
“Yeah. We will be old . . .” And hopefully ten thousand times better at showing our affection by then.
* * *
On Thursday—senior ditch day—I convince Mr. Li to let Tatum hang out with me. Although, her father assumed I was staying at their hotel with her, where most of the MMA competitors were, we snuck out.
Donning a yellow bikini, I glance toward the top deck of the lake house where Camdyn’s grilling hamburgers. He’s on his phone. Curiosity settles at the pit of my stomach until Tatum calls to me, and I jump into the clear water.
Sometime later, River arrives. The four of us sit around a wooden bench, pigging out on the spread Camdyn made.
“With all the cooking you do, Cam,” I situate a huge mouth-watering hamburger in my palms, “you could open up a café/tattoo parlor.”
River settles back, woofing down half his burger in one bite. “Keep this one, Cam.”
Camdyn grunts, rolling his eyes. “That’s your appetite speaking, Riv. But I’m keeping Willow till the world goes to shit.”
I notice the subtle longing in Tatum’s eyes as she casts a glance at the fighter.
“So, River . . .” A smile curves my lips. Beneath the table, Tatum’s elbow flies to my rib with swift precision. I massage away the hurt and ask, “How long have you trained with Mr. Li?”
“I was twelve when I broke into his place. Instead of calling the cops, I got my ass handed to me.”
“That’s my dad.” Tatum hides a smile.
“So, you two,” I squeeze out while she’s overtaken by a memory that no doubt has River’s name written all over it.
“Ugh, Willow,” Tatum snaps, “only two people are in love at this table. Even if one of them is emotionally stunted.”
