A sheepish look flickers in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. But…I mean, Anna and Carter bailed.”
“So what? Is the idea of spending alone time with your sister that unpalatable?” I glare at him. “We could have done a you-and-me trip. Gone on a long kayak, hikes, board games. It would’ve been fun.”
“I know, and that’s what I told Michelle. But she insisted on coming.”
Of course she did.
“Just because she insisted doesn’t mean you had to say yes,” I fume.
“I don’t understand what the big deal is. I brought a friend for you.”
“Nick? Nick is a friend for me? He’s your best friend!” I shake my head in disbelief. “All he and I do is argue. We don’t get along.”
Danny’s quick to protest. “Sure you do. You guys are really close.”
I gape at him. “What planet do you live on? Sorry, I already know the answer to that. You live on the planet of Michelle’s vagina.”
“Katie.”
“You promised,” I growl at him. “You know I don’t like her and that I didn’t want her here this weekend. She makes everything about herself.”
“That’s not true.”
“That’s not true? She just informed me you guys are going ‘couples boating.’ Couples boating!”
He has the decency to be shamefaced. “Well. Yeah. But we’ll only be gone a couple hours,” he quickly adds. “And then the four of us can do something fun.”
“Not cool, Daniel.” I jab my finger in the air. Then I storm out.
In the blue room, as I change out of my traveling clothes, I resign myself to the fact that I’ll be spending the day alone. Whatever. There are worse ways to pass the time than tanning and swimming. I throw on a bikini, shorts, and a tank top, then gather up items to shove in my bag. Towel, a book, headphones, sunscreen, and mosquito spray.
Michelle and Danny are already gone when I get downstairs. And I’m not sure where Nick disappeared to, but I’m on my own as I grab a bottle of water from the kitchen and head outside.
On the dock, I drape my towel along the length of a lounge chair, then lie down and stare up at the clear blue sky. Almost instantly, the tension drains from my body. I lie there and breathe and enjoy the heat of the sun on my skin, the silence of the lake. This is my favorite place in the whole world.
But my peace is cut short, as footsteps interrupt my happy reverie. I stiffen at the sound of Nick’s voice.
“Do my back?”
I open my eyes to find Nick standing there. Bare-chested, he’s wearing a pair of red trunks that cling to his trim hips. Muscles upon muscles assault my vision. Oh boy. I might find him annoying, but I’m still a woman. And I really, really like muscles.
“Where’ve you been?” I ask warily.
“Took a nap. I was exhausted after spending an hour in the car with you.”
I roll my eyes.
“Well?” He’s still holding out the sunscreen.
“Pass. Do your own back.” I adjust my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose and gaze out at the water again.
“Now, Poodle. I’m asking you for a favor and I asked very nicely. Will you please apply sunscreen to my back?” I can hear the laughter in his tone.
I want to point out that I managed to do my own back just fine. But, granted, he does have a lot more skin to work with. His big chest and broad shoulders are endless.
“Fine,” I say. “Sit down.”
He sits dutifully at the edge of my chair. I spray a mist of sunscreen on his skin. After a beat of hesitation, I rub it into his back, which is already warm from the sun beating down on us. Smooth skin and sinew glide beneath my palms.
“I can’t believe this is my trip,” I gripe.
“What?”
“Sitting here rubbing my hands all over Nick Carmichael.”
He chuckles. A low, husky sound. “Other girls would kill for that, you know.”
“Other girls are dumb, okay? Case in point—Michelle.”
“Oh, that chick isn’t dumb.”
“No?”
“You kidding me?” Nick glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes knowing. “She’s sharp as a tack. Manipulative as fuck. She acts like she doesn’t know what she’s doing, but come on, she’s got your brother wrapped around her little finger and she knows it.”
“That’s true,” I admit grudgingly. Michelle’s not dumb, and whatever she’s doing, it’s working superbly. Danny’s been under her spell for three years.
“He’ll learn,” Nick assures me.
“Will he?”
“Of course. We always do.”
“We? Ha. So you’re saying some girl had you pussy-whipped for three years?”
“Well, no. But I have faith he’ll snap out of it.”
I pat him in the center of the back. “All done.”
“Thanks.” He hops to his feet and starts spraying his chest.
I can’t help staring at his long fingers as they apply sunscreen on his impressive pecs. Ugh. I want to say I’m one of those artsy chicks who goes for the hipster guys, all moody and skinny and emo. But I’m not. Probably because my brother played sports his whole life, and all his friends played sports, and they were always over at our house, so I grew up conditioned to have a thing for athletes. My two high school boyfriends played baseball and hockey, respectively.
“So what are we doing?” Nick asks, glancing at the cozy area I’ve created for myself. “Just getting some sun?”
“No. I am doing that. You can do whatever you want.”
“Come on. I’m bored.” His tall, muscular frame is practically radiating energy as he wanders around my chair. “Entertain me.”
“Not my job.”
“Fine. Whatever.” He rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I’m going for a swim.”
As he walks to the edge of the dock, my traitorous eyes focus on his ass. Admiring the long, lean lines of his body. It’s almost unfair how attractive he is.
After he dives in, I exhale with relief. Good. Now I can relax. I’m always on guard when Nick is around, and it really does get exhausting. I watch him swim for a while, until eventually I get bored and fish out my phone.
You won’t believe what my brother did to me, I text my best friend.
Chelsea immediately texts back.
Her: He invited Michelle.
Me: How did you know??
Her: It’s common sense. Who didn’t see that one coming?
Me: Fine, well, did you see it coming that both my cousins bailed so now I’m here with Michelle AND Nick?
Her: Oooh. Plot twist.
Me: Yup.
Her: How does he look?
Me: Nick? Hot as usual.
Her: You should hook up with him.
Me: What? No!
Her: You know you’ve always wanted to…
Me: I have not.
Her: Liar.
Fine, so maybe I’d entertained the idea once, maybe twice in my life. And maybe the first time I ever touched myself was to a fantasy of Nick. It was when I was thirteen and he was fifteen. He had come over to hang out with Danny. The two of them had tossed a football around, and at some point he’d taken off his shirt and…well, my thirteen-year-old hormones went haywire.