I whip off my cover-up and toss it on my chair then pick up the beach ball, walking backward in the sand.
“You coming in?”
He grins and reaches back to tug his t-shirt off over his head. He drops it next to my cover-up and then I turn and race toward the water with him on my heels. I crash into the waves first, but then he’s there wrapping his arms around my waist, and I squeal as I try to break away from him. We both go under, and when I surface again, I’m laughing so much I can’t breathe.
We stay out in the water, tossing the ball back and forth and trying to keep it from touching the water, until I glance back to the shore and see that more people have arrived. Tori’s waving them over and I don’t want to be rude, so I reluctantly head back toward the shore, wringing the water out of my hair as I go.
“C’mon, let’s go say hi,” I say to Barrett, and he falls in step beside me. “I’m thirsty anyway.”
“They have good drinks here. You want something from the bar?”
“After Friday? I’m good,” I say, tossing him a teasing glare.
He laughs and shakes his head. “I swear you weren’t all that bad. Well, not until Nicholas got there. Speak of the devil…”
My gut clenches and I follow his gaze to find Nicholas and Rhett talking to Tori and Max. Rhett waves excitedly as he sees us walking toward them. Nicholas does not. He narrows his eyes, glances between Barrett and me, and then turns back to Tori to ask something.
She shrugs.
“Hey everyone,” I say with a weak smile once we reach the group, unable to meet Nicholas’ eyes. Our argument from Friday still feels fresh, especially considering the fact that we haven’t seen each other since then.
“Hey Maren,” Rhett says, coming over to give me a side hug.
“Hey!” I hug him back and then step away, apologizing for getting him all wet.
He laughs. “Well we are at the beach, right?”
I blush and nod, propping my hands on my hips and hoping someone else will lead the conversation from here so I can sink into some quicksand.
“Maren? Will you do my back?” Tori asks, waving a bottle of sunscreen out toward me from her perch on her beach chair.
“Yeah, but you’ll have to return the favor. I forgot to put any on before I went in.”
There’s shuffling as everyone begins to claim seats. Tori and I are already in the center, and Barrett’s quick to sit down on the chair beside mine, lying down and closing his eyes to dry out in the sun. Nicholas sits on the other side of Tori, dropping his bag and reaching back to take off his shirt. I watch with rapt attention, unblinking, unmoving, as he pulls it up and over his head. I saw him shirtless the morning Louis first made his appearance for everyone at Rosethorn, but not for long, and not like this. The sun beams down onto his tan muscled chest, and there’s a sprinkling of black hair leading down to his navy swim trunks.
Sailing has clearly kept him in great shape over the years.
God bless sailboats, I think with a tiny smile.
Then he reaches down to grab his sunglasses off his chair and turns suddenly, catching me staring. It’s comical. There’s no way for me to avert my eyes quickly enough or convincingly enough, so I just laugh instead. It’s an awkward, please-don’t-hate-me-for-checking-you-out laugh, but what he says in return has my cheeks burning bright red.
“Now you can’t blame me for doing the same,” he says, walking over to take the sunscreen right out of my hand so he can squeeze some out onto his palm.
My mouth is a fly trap as he gives the bottle back to me and walks away toward the water so he can dip his toes in while he rubs sunscreen onto his face and shoulders.
“What the hell was that about?” Tori asks.
I have no answer for her.
22
Nicholas
Maren in a sky blue bikini might send me to an early grave. Lush curves, tan skin, long wet brown hair. If I manage to look away from her at all, it’s only for a moment and only because her body is still burned in my mind even when my attention is on something else.
Rhett’s been talking to me about a yacht race he wants us to enter in a few months, and who the fuck cares, man? Can you please stop talking? My brain can only handle so much at one time, and watching Maren walk out of the water is priority number one right now.
“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Rhett prods, having successfully followed my gaze.
I jerk my attention back to him. “Because last I checked she and I weren’t on great terms. Why would she say yes?”
“Because you’re the second best guy I know—after myself, of course.”
I laugh and brush him off. “You’re an idiot.”
“Well, if you’re not going to do something about it, Barrett will.”
“He already has.”
“It was only one date, and it didn’t sound all that serious.”
“No, but they went out with Tori on Friday and Barrett asked Maren to be his date to the ballet gala next weekend. She said yes.”
“No shit? Sorry man.”
“It’s fine. Even if we were better friends, I don’t think it’s appropriate. I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to take advantage of her position at Rosethorn, like she has to say yes to a date with me or something.”
“What a damn saint. If I were you, none of that shit would matter.”
With his motivating words in mind, I push off my chair and head toward her.
She’s at the ocean’s edge, by herself, burying her toes in the sand.
I keep a healthy distance as I come to stand beside her. She stills for a moment, then continues stirring up the sand. “Having a good time?” I ask.
She peers up at me from beneath her wet lashes. “Yes, actually. Are you?”
“It’s a little awkward…after Friday night.”
She nods and nibbles on her bottom lip before tossing me a shy smile.
“Yeah. Obviously, I’m sorry for the way I acted. It wasn’t one of my finer moments.”
“There’s no reason to apologize. I’m not sorry you said what you did. In fact, I’m happy we cleared the air.”
She laughs and shakes her head.
“What?” I prod.
“Oh, nothing. It just…doesn’t really feel like the air is clear. Does it?”
Our gazes stay locked together, and I’m not sure what we’re talking about—Friday night or everything that came before it? Our feelings about our fight or our feelings, period?
“Are you into Barrett?” I ask suddenly, consequences and awkwardness be damned.
She smiles and then teasingly replies, “Are you jealous?”
“I’ve never been the type.”
She shrugs. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
I don’t like her evasiveness. I step closer and catch hold of her green eyes, which are brilliantly bright in the sunlight. “I don’t see you two together.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you were psychic. Tell me, who should I be with if not Barrett?”
“Someone more mature, for starters.”
“Hmm, mature…does that mean someone older?”