Say You Still Love Me

by Tucker, K. A.

  He looks over his shoulder at me and smirks, like he knows I’m lying, his gaze skating over my body a second time.

  And then, with a boyish grin, he takes a running leap off the cliff.

  Exhilaration swells in my chest as I rush to the edge to watch him resurface.

  He wades to the side, his strokes strong and practiced. “Am I going to have to talk you into it again?” he hollers, and I hear the challenge in his voice.

  Taking a deep breath, I step back and then charge forward, gripped by a sensation that’s both paralyzing and exhilarating as I plummet through the air. By the time my body emerges from the crisp water, a hysterical laugh—of accomplishment and ecstasy—takes over.

  Until I realize the rush of water has forced my bikini top clean off me.

  I yelp and cover my bare chest with one arm, while using the other to tread water. “Shit . . . my top!”

  Kyle swims toward where I plunged in and dives under, only to pop up a few moments later, long enough to curse about murky water. He gathers a deep breath and then he’s gone again, swimming deeper into the abyss.

  Treading water with one arm is difficult and I finally have to relent, releasing my hold of my chest to stay afloat, wondering just how murky the water is, how much Kyle can see from beneath. I have yet to strut around nude in front of him—or any guy, for that matter.

  He bursts through the water’s surface with a gasp for air. “Sorry, it’s gone. It’s too deep here and I can’t see shit.”

  “Well, this is going to be fun,” I mutter, eyeing the steep and rocky slope that I get to try to maneuver up, topless.

  Kyle swims toward me, doing a poor job of hiding a secretive smile.

  “Don’t look too upset.”

  “Sorry. It’s just . . .” The small smile morphs into a wide grin. “I was wondering if that would happen.”

  “And you didn’t think to warn me?”

  “I did think about it.” He edges in closer, until our knees are bumping together. “And then I thought better of it.”

  “You jerk.” I smack his chest playfully, before scanning the cliff top. “Where’s Eric?” Kyle seeing me topless is one thing. I’m not putting on a show for the other counselors.

  “The last I saw, he was heading somewhere with Avery.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

  “Is he into her?”

  Kyle rolls his eyes. “Who the hell knows with him. They messed around last week.”

  They must have done it in secret, because nothing stays quiet long in the counselor circle. So far, Colin’s been spotted making out behind the canteen with Jenny and, though no one can confirm they saw Marie and Carlos hooking up, the fact that they both developed a poison ivy rash all over their backs on the same day last week is highly suspicious.

  I hesitate. “Is that weird for you?” If one of my close friends started dating Trevor after we broke up, that would probably bother me.

  “Not the way you’re probably thinking. Eric’s not serious about Avery. He’s just biding his time until Ashley decides he isn’t a fool.” Kyle chuckles. “That might be a while. I tried to help him out last year by hinting to her that he was into her, and then he pulled the same kind of shit, and Ashley wouldn’t give him a chance the rest of the summer. If she hears about him hooking up with Avery, he’ll screw his chances up a second year.” Kyle shakes his head.

  It dawns on me. “Aww . . . You’re a hopeless romantic!” I tease.

  “Shut up.” Kyle grins. “Right now I’m a horny guy with a hot, topless girl in front of me.”

  The fact that I’m so close to him and naked save for my scrap-of-a-bottom is not lost on me. Despite the cool temperature of the water, my entire body is flushing with warmth. If Kyle is affected, he’s not letting on; at ease in the water, his breath is even and calm.

  “You good?” he asks, as if reading my mind.

  “Yeah.”

  He hesitates. “So . . . Shane is going home next Saturday, for the night. He only lives, like, an hour away and he wants to see his girlfriend.” Kyle pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and holds it a moment before releasing it, a shy smile touching his lips. “I’ll have my cabin to myself for the night. In case you wanted to hang out there with me.”

  My stomach flutters as I grasp what he’s really asking.

  “For a few hours . . . or the night.” He swallows hard. “Whatever you feel like—”

  “Okay,” I blurt out, not even pretending to play coy. “I mean, as long as Darian’s not going to nail us for breaking probation.”

  “She said we had to be in our cabins for lights-out with our campers. There are no campers on Saturday night.” He says it so innocently. “It’s our night off to do whatever we want.”

  Except “whatever we want” means squeezed together in the twin bunk. The two of us in a bed together, alone, all night long.

  My breathing has turned ragged. Meanwhile, Kyle’s breathing hasn’t even wavered.

  “You’re a strong swimmer,” I murmur, needing to change the conversation to something less heart palpitation–inducing.

  “I should hope so. I did a couple years on my school’s swim team.” He grins when my eyebrows arch with surprise. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just picturing you rocking those little swim shorts and cap.”

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “Never.”

  He laughs. “I was actually supposed to do the Red Cross lifeguard training program last year.” He tosses that scrap of personal information out so casually.

  I seize it. “You totally should! It’s a great part-time job. I have a friend who’s a lifeguard. She makes good money. For a teenager, anyway.” Money she doesn’t need. She’s doing it for her college application.

  “Yeah . . . It’s like two hundred for the course I was looking at.” Kyle’s gaze shifts away. “May as well be two thousand.”

  Two hundred dollars. Less than the cost of the running shoes I bought for this summer. I didn’t even blink at setting my credit card on the counter for that purchase. I try to wrap my mind around the idea of not being able to afford something, and I can’t. I can’t recall a time those words have ever left my parents’ mouths.

  “But you’ll make more than that working here this summer,” I push, keeping my voice light and hopeful.

  “I need that money to make it through the year. Clothes and shit like that.” His tongue darts out to toy with his lip ring.

  “Well, I can lend you the—”

  “No, Piper.” His tone is sharp. He adds, more softly, “That’s nice of you to offer, but . . . no.”

  Uncomfortable silence falls over us, and I’m desperate to push it away. “How do you tread water like that? I mean, without using your arms?”

  His soft sigh skates across my cheek. “Easy. It’s called the rotary kick.”

  “Teach me.” Anything to get the conversation away from how different our lives are.

  A slight smirk curls his lips. “Keep your arms still and imagine your legs are an egg beater.”

  I try to mimic Kyle, freezing my arms and kicking my legs how I’d imagine an egg beater would rotate.

  I start to sink.

  Kyle’s hands grip either side of my waist, pulling me back up. “Try again,” he coaxes, keeping hold of me this time, our knees knocking against each other’s intermittently.

  It takes me a few minutes to get the hang of it. “ ’Kay, I think I’m doing it.”

  “You are.” He smiles, but he doesn’t let go, pulling me in closer to kiss. I let my arms float on either side of me and I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of Kyle’s mouth against mine, in his shallow breaths, in the tip of his tongue as it first skates over the seam of my lips, and then into my mouth. He tastes like the spearmint gum he was chewing earlier, and not cigarettes. Though, if he did, I wouldn’t care.

  Kyle’s hands begin to shift upward, ever so slowly, until his thumbs are nestled against the underside of my breast
s. And then they’re on my breasts, tenderly, as if he’s memorizing their shape, his index fingers drawing small, teasing circles over my nipples.

  I open my eyes, wondering if his are as full of lust as mine must be.

  That’s when I notice the teal string floating atop the water behind him.

  “My top!” I frown a second before realization hits me. My mouth drops open as I reach behind him, to find that he secured it through one of his belt loops. “Kyle!”

  With an impish grin, he slips from my grasp and takes off swimming toward the alcove. I chase after him, yelling his name. It’s in vain, though; he’s much too fast for me.

  When I round the corner, I find him sitting on the rocky plateau, leaning back and propped up by his elbows as if basking in the sun, his legs dangling over the edge.

  He grins at me, holding out my top. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  I yank it from his grasp and attempt to put it back on, quickly abandoning the idea. It’s too hard while treading water.

  Kyle smirks, like he knows it. “I won’t look. Promise.” He rolls over to lie on his stomach, facing away from me.

  I hoist myself onto the ledge. The rock is almost too hot to the touch. It would be a nice place to relax and rid myself of these hideous T-shirt tan lines. A nice, quiet, private place to linger that can’t be seen from the expanse of lake.

  “You’re not mad at me, are you?” He reaches for a loose stone nearby, to twirl it within his grasp.

  “No,” I admit. I enjoyed every second of that moment when he was touching me so intimately.

  In truth, I wish it hadn’t ended.

  “Tell me when you’re good.” He has kept his word, his gaze still on the crop of bushes beyond.

  A rash of butterflies explodes in my stomach as I commit myself to my decision. Splashing the hot-to-the-touch rock with handfuls of water to cool it down, I stretch out onto my back and shield my eyes against the blinding sun, leaving my top resting next to my head. “Okay.”

  With a sigh, he moves to roll back. “I was thinking we should—” His words cut off, his mouth falling agape as it skates over my near-naked body.

  “I have these horrible tan lines that I need to get rid of,” I explain casually, closing my eyes and settling my arm down beside me.

  Kyle clears his throat. “Right.”

  I can feel his heavy gaze touching my body, and each second that passes makes me crave for his hands to be on me again.

  “Did you put on sunscreen?”

  Shit. I groan. “No. And my bottle is all the way up—”

  “I’ll get it.”

  “You don’t have . . .” My voice trails. He’s already on his feet, nimbly picking his path up the treacherous hill.

  I’m going to need Kyle’s help coating my back, I think with a smile, imagining his hands smoothing all over my body, along every inch of exposed skin.

  By the time the loud splash sounds a few minutes later—Kyle, leaping off the cliff again—my body is aching with need.

  Kyle swims around the bend and pulls himself back onto the rock, my tube of sunscreen firmly gripped in his hand. Droplets of water land on my skin as he shifts closer to me. “Here, roll over,” he murmurs as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes skittering over my chest and stomach.

  I do, carefully, so as not to scrape my skin against the jagged edges of rock, and rest my chin atop folded arms, silently reveling in the feel of the cool gobs of sunscreen landing on my back.

  “You sure ran up the hill fast.” His first touch draws a small gasp from my lips.

  “Yeah, I guess I just really wanted to jump again.”

  I smile to myself. “Right. Jump.”

  He chuckles softly.

  We fall into a comfortable silence as his hands smooth over my shoulders and down my sides in long, languid strokes, until my entire back is covered. Only he doesn’t stop there. He squeezes another dollop onto the back of each thigh and covers the full length of my legs, all the way from my ankles to the edge of my bikini bottoms, his fingertips sliding down over my inner thighs, teasing me, never venturing where I want them to, making the mild ache between my legs morph into a needy throb.

  “Your back is done,” he announces, his voice low and gravelly.

  “Do you mind doing the rest?” I roll over, squinting against the sun as I peer up to admire his stunning features.

  He licks his lips as his eyes trail the length of my body. Finally he shakes his head and wordlessly squeezes a glob onto my belly button.

  I suck in my stomach from the chill, and he chuckles. He begins smoothing the sunscreen over my abdomen, his strokes even slower than before, his face taking on an odd, somber expression.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing at all. You’re just . . . perfect,” he murmurs, shifting his hand upward, over my breasts, his palm cupping each one, the soft pad of his thumb circling over my nipples a few times. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me. I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now.”

  I reach out to drag my fingers against his thigh. “I’m the lucky one.”

  “You have no clue . . .” He shakes his head as he shifts his focus, stretching to reach my ankles before moving all the way up each leg, his hands firm and confident. And, once again, he teases me mercilessly, his fingers sliding provocatively as he coats my inner thighs.

  I shift my legs apart, just enough that he’ll hopefully take the hint.

  He definitely notices because his mouth parts and his gaze shifts to meet mine, allowing me to admire the green-and-gold kaleidoscope of his irises.

  Finally, Kyle stretches out to lie beside me, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re all covered,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against my cheek, his free hand resting on my stomach.

  I turn to meet him face-to-face, our noses grazing. “I guess I should do you now?”

  He groans and I laugh, angling my head so I can get better access to his lip ring. I flick it with my tongue.

  The hand resting on my stomach slides down over my belly, until his fingers are tracing the top seam of my bikini bottoms, making my blood race and heat pool between my legs. Shifting so that he’s hovering over me, blocking out the sun from my eyes, he whispers, “You good?”

  I hesitate, reaching up to cup his jaw, my thumb dragging over the light stubble. “I could be better.”

  A sexy smirk curls his lips as he leans down to give me one of his signature tantalizing kisses. He breaks free long enough to show me his hooded eyes—and maybe to triple-check what I want in mine—before his fingers are slipping beneath the material, and lower.

  A slight gasp escapes my lips as I settle my hand on his shoulder and my legs part of their own accord.

  Kyle curses under his breath. “God, you’re so . . .” His voice trails with a hard swallow, and then he’s deepening his kiss as his fingers slip inside me.

  I let Trevor venture into my pants only three times while we dated and one of those times, I was drunk. While I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, it always seemed like he was marking off a box in the foreplay checklist, with the sole purpose of reaching an end result that got him what he wanted. It was all hot hands and fumbling fingers, and never lasted more than a minute before he’d be whispering what he’d rather be doing to me and begging me to unfasten his jeans.

  It was all about him.

  But not Kyle. He’s in no rush, and he is so far from a fool groping toward the home plate, his thumb dragging over me in soft circles, each stroke bringing me closer to an edge I’ve never gone over with anyone.

  Our ragged breaths mix as his hand works over me, my legs falling farther apart, my inhibitions drifting higher away as my body chases a climax I want so badly to experience with him.

  And then a bellow of “Freedom!” carries from somewhere above.

  I shut my legs on Kyle’s hand and sit up in an instant, the heat of the moment effectively doused just as a loud splash sounds.


  A second scream—that of a girl—echoes through the bay as Kyle is slipping his hand from me. Another splash sounds.

  I fumble with my top, tying the neck and adjusting the front before the intruders venture this way.

  Beside me Kyle lies sprawled on his back, his arms thrown over his face. “I’m gonna kill him,” he mutters.

  Maybe it’s a good thing we were interrupted, I think to myself, as I steal a glance downward, to where his clingy—still wet—bathing shorts leave little to the imagination. The sight drives my need for him, my fingers itching to slip beneath his waistband.

  It’s only been two weeks and I’m ready to give it all up to Kyle on a hidden rocky plateau in broad daylight. There’s no rush, I remind myself. We still have six more weeks together. And we have next Saturday night, when we don’t have to worry about anyone invading our privacy.

  The ache in my body flares with the thought of what might happen.

  For now, though, I settle on dragging my index finger along the thin trail of hair below his belly button in a teasing manner. Checking over my shoulder to make sure Eric isn’t in sight yet, I smooth my hand over his hard length, gripping him with my fingers.

  “Your turn.”

  “What?” He lifts his arms to peer at me. “Now? Seriously?” His eyebrows are furrowed with doubt, but I don’t miss the heat beginning to flare in them again.

  I lift up the bottle of sunscreen. “Before you burn.”

  His arms fall back over his face with a loud groan.

  End of Week Three

  “I haven’t received any more calls from your mother, so I assume you’re staying out of trouble?”

  My dad’s voice always sounds especially clipped over the phone. I hate talking to him on the phone because of it.

  “No trouble.”

  “Good. I’m glad to see you finally taking your job seriously.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Today’s your day off, right?”

  “Yeah.” We saw our third round of campers off earlier. The third week played out much like the last two—tears and amateur gimp bracelets and promises of a reunion next year.