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“So what are you nervous about?”
He rubs his hands over the steering wheel once. “That was the first time I’ve ever said it out loud to anyone. Even myself. Honestly…I’m not even sure I know what it means to be bisexual.”
“It means you’re greedy,” Donovan says from the back.
I roll my eyes and give Jason’s thigh a squeeze. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re the same person you were two hours ago. You’re just…a more honest version of the guy you were before.”
“Honest,” Jason says, and the word seems to carry some weight the way he says it. “Yeah. I like that.”
Guilt, the ever-present crab on my shoulder, gives me a pinch. I rub the back of my neck to ward the feeling away.
“What do you want to do now?” Donovan asks.
Jason seems to think about it; then, suddenly, he veers. We come to a quick stop at the side of the road, where he parks the car. “I want to go for a swim,” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Then he unbuckles and gets out of the car.
Donovan and I exchange a glance. “Are we…supposed to follow him?” Donovan asks.
“I am.” I unbuckle my seat belt, and the car complains with small beeps as I get out of the passenger side.
We’re right on the Bayside. I take my shoes off and step off the edge of the road and onto the sand. I have to tread through dune grass, its tendrils capped in ice, until I get to the beach.
Jason is already at the edge of the water. He kicks off his loafers and, without hesitating, dives into the surf. Nice suit and all. When he resurfaces, he lets out a shout. But he’s grinning.
Something inside me unlocks. He is brave, and bold, and fucking insane, and I want to be insane with him.
Donovan steps in beside me. “Truth or dare?” he asks.
Donovan and I glance at each other, and the look in his eyes is all I need to know that we’ve both come to the same decision.
“Dare,” we both say simultaneously.
We ditch our shoes. Donovan drops his blazer, and I lose my shawl as we run at top speed into the ocean. The second the water hits my legs, it feels like shards of ice against my skin. It sucks the breath completely out of my lungs, and I cry out—a sharp, shrill noise.
“It’s better once you’re in!” Jason calls out, engulfed to his chest. “I promise!”
I trust him. I force myself through the initial blast of pain and shock and—
I take the leap. I jump into the swells until I’m up to my shoulders in it.
And Jason is right. Once you’re in? It’s not so bad.
It’s freeing. My clothes cling to me uncomfortably, but I feel invincible.
Donovan is in the water with us. He’s catching his breath, but his eyes are alive.
I swim out to Jason. He grins at me. “You good, Trouble?” he asks.
“Never been better,” I tell him, and I mean it.
I don’t know how long we stay in the water. But I feel amazing while I’m in it. We’re wild animals. We’re unbound, like points of light in the sky. We’re free.
It only hurts when we get out, and the chill in the air eats through my soaked dress. The three of us grab the clothes we’ve left scattered across the shore. We dash to the car and jump in—wet and sandy, shivering and laughing. Immediately, Jason blasts the heat, and I stretch my fingers over the vent. My hands are bright red, fingers numb.
“H-h-holy shit,” I say between chattering teeth. “That was insane.”
Donovan reaches between the seat dividers and clasps Jason heartily on the shoulder. “Some endurance training, Phelps. Was that some special ops Doctors Without Borders training they put you through?”
