by Piper Rayne
“Ready?” I ask.
Solemnly, she nods.
I laugh. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” she says in a huff. “I just … what if I don’t get it?”
“Then we’ll have had a good swim,” I say. “I didn’t get it my first time.” A pang of grief tickles the empty space behind my ribs. My dad took me to this very lake to teach me this skill, one I use every time I run a creek in my kayak and one that’s saved my life a hundred times.
After two sessions, I had it. Dad’s praise still hums in my ears. Finally, something I was good at. It had taken Pete and Wyatt a whole summer.
“But you were a little kid,” she says.
“So?” I wade the boat to waist deep, the cold water swallowing my waist.
“Okay, here’s the plan,” I say. “Once you flip over, I’ll move your paddle into position.” I wait for her to nod. “Then I’ll then tap the boat. That’s your signal to sweep and roll.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” I say, standing at arm’s distance.
She bites her lip. It’s so fucking adorable. Even in the cold water, I’m buzzing hard to touch her.
She lifts her paddle and rocks her hips side to side, making soft little waves that ripple against my abs.
“Okay,” she says. “I’m going.”
“Awesome,” I reply.
Then, she jerks her hips sideways and the boat flips upside down.
I reach under the water, grabbing her paddle’s shaft, then lining it up with the side of the boat. Then I tap the plastic hull.
Her paddle sweeps through the water and her boat rotates partway upright. My heart leaps because I think maybe she’s going to get it, but she doesn’t quite finish the sweep. The boat drops back. Moments later, Lori pops up, spluttering.
“Good try!” I say while she coughs.
She wipes her nose and face, then blinks at me. “What did I do wrong?”
“Keep sweeping that paddle,” I say, showing her the motion. “You got the boat to rotate up, which is awesome. It’s that last two inches that’ll get you all the way over.”
“Okay,” she says, nodding. We wade back to shore and she gets back in the boat. We repeat the drill. She gets the boat a little more rotated this time, enough for her to get a breath. To my surprise, she stays under for a second try. I move her paddle into position, and she pops up again, halfway.
“You got it!” I cry, watching her grimace. But the paddle sinks and she disappears under the boat again.
She surfaces next to the floating boat.
“You were so close!” I say.
“Grr,” she replies. Her skin is pimpled with goose flesh.
“You want to take a break? Warm up?”
“No,” she says with that adorable scowl.
“That’s the spirit,” I say, and help her set up again. We try another four times, but she can’t seem to get the last bit of power from the paddle stroke.
She surfaces looking crushed.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. It’s a hard thing to learn.”
She exhales a hard breath that puffs out her cheeks. “I can do hard things.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I know.” I take the paddle from her tight grip. “But maybe today’s not the day. Not a big deal.”
She looks away. Why is she beating herself up about this?
I step closer and turn her face, so we’re eye to eye. “Lori,” I say, my tone firm. “It’s okay.”
The pale flecks in her eyes shine like copper in the low light. “I’m sorry,” she finally says.
I peer at her, curious. “For what, doll?”
“Obsessing about this.”
“You’re determined. I love that about you.”
“It’s not too much?”
“Hell no,” I say, then caress the side of her face. “Is it for you?”
She releases a shuddering sigh. “I think…sometimes it is, yeah.”
“You want my help?” I ask, stepping close.
Her face tilts. “What, are you gonna take my tests for me?”
I laugh out loud. “Not unless you want to flunk out of Stanford.”
She smiles, but it fades.
“It’s okay to make mistakes. Hell, I should know.”
“Thanks for letting me try this,” she says.
I pull her into my arms. “You’ll get it, okay?”
When I release her, she gives me a nod. I float the paddle to shore, then reach for the boat with one hand and hers with the other and lead her to the beach.
We lay on the blanket under the hot afternoon sun, the distant buzz of beachgoers blending with the sound of boat engines accelerating and soft waves lapping the beach.
“You asked why I only have one bikini,” she says softly, after the sun has melted the beads of lake water from my chest and my face is warm. “It’s because it’s really hard to find one that fits. Because of my size.”
Curious, I turn to see her staring at the sky, her lips tight.
“It’s why I couldn’t wear Annika’s wetsuit top.”
In an instant, it all comes together. “And your rash, too, isn’t it?” I ask.
She nods. “And a lot of other things.”
I roll to my side and prop myself up on an elbow. I gaze at her, pained that she’s been holding onto this. “You want to tell me about it?”
She still isn’t looking at me.
I take her hand.
After a long inhale, she finally says, “It’s why I had to give up cross-country. My skin would get so raw I’d bleed through my shirt at every meet.”
“Ouch,” I say. “But hey, you did yourself a favor. Running sucks,” I add with a wink.
She grins, but there’s a sad edge to it. “Some guys … they get obsessed with them.”
I squeeze her hand. She needs to know it’s okay to talk about this with me. “Like Shea?”
Finally, she looks at me. “Guys think that because of the way I’m built, that it’s okay to stare at me. To say mean things.”
“Like what?” I ask as my protectiveness comes to life again.
“Nice tits,” she says with a huff. “Or they’ll just stare at my chest like they’re undressing me. Stuff like that.”
I wince. “Jeez, that’s awful, Lori. I’m sorry.”
“It just sucks because I can’t change it. I can’t change how I look.”
“Why would you want to?” I say in alarm. “You’re perfect.”
She scoffs. “Hardly.”
“Well, you’re perfect to me.”
She looks at me like I mean something. “You are the sweetest guy I’ve ever met; you know that?”
Could I get that in writing? I shrug my lips. “It’s true.” I want to tell her more, but somehow, the words stick in my throat.
“When I’m with you, I sort of forget I’m different. It’s like you don’t notice.”
“Oh, I notice,” I say, caressing her belly just below the band of her bikini. If only this beach were a little more private, I would show her just how much I enjoy her beautiful body. Meanwhile, her words echo inside me. I’m bothered by how she’s so hard on herself. How can I fix it?
She smiles. “Okay, yeah, but not in the way other guys do.”
“Do you like the way I touch you?” I ask, still stroking her soft skin.
She releases a shuddering breath. “Yes. Like, a lot.”
I lean down to kiss her. It starts out slow and gentle, but it’s not long before our tongues are swirling and we’re both breathing fast.
She leans back wearing a serious expression. “Did you … beat up Hans?” she asks.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Word got out that you were in camp yesterday.”
“I paid him a visit, yeah.”
Her eyes cloud. “Not sure how I feel about you fighting my battles for me.”
Renewed anger flares in my chest. “I didn’t do it just for you, but for the next girl he thinks about harassi
ng.”
She squints at me. “I sort of wish I could have been the one to punch him.”
“Need me to teach you to fight, too? We can add that to our curriculum.”
She laughs. “No, thank you. We still have pitching mastery and kayak rolling to accomplish.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time,” I say, “I wish I could make it easier.” I caress down her arm. “But I love that part of you. I love how good I can make you feel.”
She gives me a tense look. “I love it too.”
Something shifts inside me—followed by a flip of my stomach, like it just did a back dive off my liver. I gaze into her gorgeous face as my emotions swirl inside me.
I don’t want to say goodbye to this girl. Not now. Not ever.
But summer is ending. How am I going to get through this in one piece? My heart thrashes inside my chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Me, falling for a girl? Not part of the plan.
But here I am, and it’s all about to end.
I lean down to kiss her again. Her lips taste like sunshine and strawberry lip balm. I drown myself in slow, sensual kisses while my hands explore. She arches closer to me.
We are definitely pushing the G-rated limits of this beach, so I pull away from her.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” I say, practically panting.
“What about my lessons?” she asks.
“How about we table this lesson for a new one?” I say, kissing her forehead.
“Mmm,” she groans, giving me a sultry gaze. “What do you have in mind?”
I pull her to her feet. “Maybe it’s best I showed you.”
Her face erupts with a colorful blush.
“I still have so many things to teach you, doll,” I say, and pull her to me so my stiffening cock connects with her center.
She sighs into the crook of my neck. “Take me home, Caleb.”
As we drive from the lake, the warm night air fresh on my skin, I push away the fear that unless I stop denying my feelings for her, she’s going to walk out of my life forever.
23
Lori
“So, if you’re not twenty-one,” I ask after the details of his room slide back into focus. That’s the second time today he’s sent me to the moon, and from our previous dates, I know we’re not close to being done.
“When’s your birthday?” I ask.
He strokes my arm in little swirls with his thumb. “December twenty-first,” he replies.
“That’s the first day of winter,” I say, rolling closer to him. Against my cheek, his heart thumps softly.
“It’s also super close to Christmas,” he says with a sigh.
“Is that bad?”
He shrugs. “Just one more thing I can’t do right.”
I shift so I can see his face. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes have lost their playful spark. “It’s nothing,” he says. “Forget it.”
“No, really, please tell me.”
He stares at the ceiling. “It’s a birthday nobody has time for. It’s so close to Christmas. Everyone’s busy, preoccupied.”
“But why is that your fault?”
He shrugs again. “According to my dad, most things are, why not add this to the list?”
“Ouch,” I say.
I tuck into him again and he caresses up and down my spine in lazy strokes. A tingle of renewed desire prickles my skin, confirming my earlier hunch.
“How’s that feel now that he’s gone?” I ask.
He blows a long breath through puffed cheeks. “Wow, uh…”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.” I wince, wishing I could curb my sometimes-inappropriate curiosity.
I think he’s not going to answer, but finally, he says, “We had a fight the day he died.”
“Oh, Caleb,” I say, hugging him tighter.
“Yeah.”
I hold back from asking what the fight was about. Just him admitting this to me feels like a lot.
“I didn’t want him to go that day. I told him the river was too high.”
I pause; the tension feels so thick I’m afraid the sound of my breathing will spook him.
“We … were supposed to go together, but I told him I wouldn’t.”
“And he went anyway?” I ask, shifting to see his tormented face.
“He shouldn’t have gone,” he says, still staring at the ceiling. “You never go boating alone. When I said it was too dangerous, he should have listened to me.”
“This must be really hard,” I say, caressing his shoulder.
He inhales a slow breath, as if he’s repacking all of his sadness.
“It’s par for the course,” he says. “Nobody listens to me. Why should this be any different?”
“Why don’t they listen? You’re so good at everything.”
He eyes me, his gaze sharp. “Apparently, not at anything that matters.”
“Like what?”
He gives a little chuckle. “Plenty. The point is, in his eyes, I could never do anything right. So of course, he blows me off when I say it’s too dangerous.” His jaw tightens. “Me? Saying it’s too dangerous? Usually I’m the rabid squirrel of the group.”
“He didn’t take you seriously. He didn’t trust you.” I know just how this one feels. Losing the battle with my mom and Jeff about my car still stings. After handing over the keys to Sam’s brother, I cried all the way back to camp.
Caleb shakes his head, then releases a huge sigh. “My brothers blame me.”
“What?” I gasp. “That’s not fair. You tried to stop him, right?”
He gives his head a little shake. “Doesn’t matter. They think I should have tried harder. That I should have gone with him.”
“But then you’d be dead, too,” I say as a chill tightens my skin.
“Maybe,” he replies. “Or maybe I could have saved him.”
“That’s awful,” I say, heartsick.
“Anyways,” he says, and rolls to me so we’re nose to nose.
“No, wait … we’re not done,” I say.
He kisses me softly. “I am. It’s not worth wasting any more time on this.”
“So, you’re just going to shoulder that burden? That you caused your dad’s death?”
He grimaces but I charge on. It’s not right for him to think like this. “That’s so wrong! Sounds like he was hellbent on going that day. That he didn’t listen to you is his fault, not yours.”
A painful tightness grips his face. “He’s still gone.”
“But you can’t take the blame for that,” I say, caressing the side of his face.
“Rationally, yeah, I get that,” he says. “It’s just tough to let go. He was so hard on me for so long.”
I gaze into his eyes, hoping the tenderness I feel for him right now is enough to push back his hurt. At least for now.
“You had good times with him, too, right?” I ask.
His troubled look softens. “Yeah. We both loved the river. There’s some good memories there.”
“He loved you,” I say. “Maybe it was flawed, but it sounds like he did.”
“Yeah,” he replies, but it sounds sad. He kisses me again, his lips gentle. I caress down his strong arm to his waist.
He grips me in a firm hug, and sighs against me. “You’re so good to me,” he says. “When I’m with you, it’s like all that stuff falls away.”
My heart thumps high in my chest, echoing into my ears. “You’re good to me, too,” I say. I don’t tell him that I’ve never felt like this with anyone. Not with our impending separation. I really should try to close things down, withdraw my feelings. It’ll make next Sunday more bearable. My mom’s warning rises through my thoughts, but I shut it down.
I can’t close down my emotions. I love how I feel when I’m with him.
I’ve told myself that I can’t feel this way. I can’t give in to my feelings, but the harder I try to resist, the deeper my feelings become.
He
caresses the tip of my nipple, sending a jolt of desire through me, and my churning thoughts fade.
“Let me show you just how good,” he says in that sexy voice that makes me purr.
The next morning, after the most sensual shower of my life, we stop by the Growly Bear Bakery on my way back to camp.
Claudia, the woman at the window, smiles when she sees us.
“Your usual?” she asks me.
Though this is only my fourth visit, she knows my order. “Yes, please,” I reply.
“I think I’ll have the egg special. I’m feeling hungry this morning,” Caleb says, swiveling his shoulders in a mini stretch.
“I’ll bet,” Claudia says with a twinkle in her eye.
My blush races so fast up my cheeks I have to turn away. Caleb chuckles softly. He pays and grabs the number Claudia hands him.
“How’s that combat roll coming?” she asks me while counting out Caleb’s change.
“Um, excuse me?”
“At the lake. My daughter, McKenna, works in the lodge. She saw you two.”
“I’m going to need more practice,” I manage while Caleb tucks the change into his wallet.
“Better hurry, summer’s almost over,” she says.
“Right,” I say, my molars tapping shut. Seven days until I have to say goodbye.
“And there’s no better teacher,” she adds, nodding at Caleb. “I don’t know where you get your patience, dear. Both your folks have none of it.”
“Thanks, Claudia,” Caleb says, and tugs me to a table in the shade.
“Does anything happen in this town without everyone knowing about it?” I ask as a waiter brings us two steaming mugs of coffee.
“Nope,” he says, adding honey to his cup.
“It must be nice, too, though, having a community like that. She gave you a compliment, after all.”
“She’s a sweetheart. A little nosy, but hey, small towns...”
“At least she’s stopped asking me about my rash,” I say with a giggle.
“You were town’s hottest topic there for a few weeks.”
“I’ve never had so many people offer me remedies,” I reply, stirring in cream from a tiny pitcher. Real cream—I’m going to miss this place. I’m going to miss a lot of things. A pang of dread tugs at my insides.
He chuckles. When he lifts his coffee, his gaze sweeps the room.
