That earned me a chuckle, and I felt that vibration all the way through my ribcage and to the very core of who I was.
That dark, monstrous core.
I shook off the thought, climbing into the driver side of his mom’s Cadillac. And once Tyler was in the passenger seat, I threw the car in drive and steered us toward a road I hadn’t driven down in years with my heart racing in my chest.
A warning, or a rally cry?
I could never be sure.
At the end of a hidden back road where an old abandoned lake house sat, there was a giant dock and a rope swing hanging from the limb of a tree. It was our favorite, secret place to go as kids — mine, Morgan’s, and Tyler’s — and I took a risk in assuming that that old house would still be here, still be abandoned, and that the dock would still be standing.
But it was.
It was a quiet part of the lake, a little enclave without a neighboring house in sight, and the lake was mirror-like, perfect for kayaking or canoeing or paddle boarding or — my favorite — skipping rocks.
Tyler had spent most of the ride quiet, with his arms crossed over his chest like he was annoyed, or bored, or inconvenienced, or maybe all three at once. But when he realized the turns I was taking, the path I was leading us on, he glanced over at me with a curious smile.
“The old house?”
I just smiled, not answering, but he already knew.
When we pulled into the drive, overgrown with weeds and brush, I tossed Tyler the trunks I’d snuck out of his room and told him to change and meet me on the dock. He shook his head on a grin, which I returned as I jumped out of the car and left him to change.
The breeze was strong, cooling the summer sun above and making the trees rustle, the long weeds making images in the lawn as they blew this way and that. I smiled at the familiar feel of summer, at the smell of the dogwood and the sassafras, at the sound of the lake water gently lapping at the shore.
It wasn’t until I stepped foot on the old dock that my stomach tightened with longing. I thought back to those endless summer days spent with Morgan and Tyler, pretending like they were my real family, like I had siblings and parents who loved me and cared for me. How many days had we spent jumping off the dock, or swinging off the rope swing into the lake? How many afternoons had we wasted away talking and listening to music, playing games, teasing each other about teenage things like crushes and puberty? How many nights had we goofed away sneaking into the old house, pretending we saw ghosts or heard voices before running out of there like our tails were on fire — laughing, tumbling into a mess of arms and legs in a heap in the yard.
I was still smiling at the memory when I dropped my bag at the end of the dock, stripping my dress overhead and reaching into the bag for the sunscreen I’d packed. I rubbed a small amount on my face, lathering up my shoulders and arms. I was just starting to spread the block on my chest when I turned to check on Tyler, and there he was, at the other end of the dock, rooted in place with his eyes on me.
I didn’t want to notice it, the way those deep, brown eyes cascaded over every inch of me like a waterfall. I didn’t want to notice how tense his jaw was, how the muscle ticked a bit when his eyes paused where my hand was rubbing lotion over my cleavage. I didn’t want to notice the way those eyes crawled slowly and purposefully over my stomach, my hips, my thighs, all the way down to my ankles before they trailed back up.
But I couldn’t help it.
And the monster inside me purred with satisfaction.
I’m not sure how I managed it, but when his eyes found mine again, I smiled, waving him down the dock. He blinked a few times before his feet finally moved, and when he made it to me, he offered a small smile. “You’re sneaky,” he said, gesturing down to his swim trunks. “You’re also very lucky I still fit into these.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure we could have figured it out otherwise. Here,” I said, tossing him the bottle of sunblock after I squeezed a healthy amount into my hand. “Lather up. Your sister would kill me if either of us got a sunburn before her big day.”
“The pictures,” he mocked in her voice, and I laughed before we both fell silent — mostly because he had just started rubbing lotion over his broad, sculpted shoulders, and I was trying to remember why I ever thought this was a good idea.
Once we were protected from the sun, we spread out our towels and took a seat on the dock. Then, I pulled the Bluetooth speaker out of my bag, propping it up between us and pulling out the clipboard with the band’s lists of songs they knew how to play. Then, I uncapped my bright yellow highlighter and we started from the top.
Slowly, song by song, we filtered through the list, going over everything from what the band would play while everyone ate, to what would make people get up and sing and dance, to what would be perfect for the bouquet toss and garter throw. We selected a handful of slow songs, deciding which ones to group together for the couples to get some dances together, but ensuring it wasn’t too long so that the solo folks would want to throw themselves out the nearest window.
Turned out Tyler and I had both been to weddings where we felt that latter scenario.
The band had given us five pages of options, and after a few hours, we’d gone through them all, highlighting the ones that would go over best with the crowd that would be there for the wedding. And when our duty was done, I let the clipboard fall between us, the highlighter clacking on top, and then we both leaned back on the heels of our hands with a sigh, our eyes wandering the length of the lake.
Clouds had begun to roll in, shielding us from the sun more than they had in the earlier afternoon, but the sun still peeked through enough to warm our skin, and the breeze was warmer now, too. I closed my eyes and soaked in the feeling of it blowing over my face as an old Tom Petty song played on the speaker.
“Now this is summer,” I said, and I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that Tyler was watching me. “All we need now is a good swing off the rope.”
I creaked one eye open to look at Tyler, who chuckled in response. “You first.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Prove it.”
I smiled, closing my eyes again and sinking back onto my palms. “I will. In a little bit though, because I’m enjoying this right now.”
“Suuuure,” Tyler teased.
My smile grew, my stomach doing a little flip with his tease. I could tell he was still tense from our last conversation, but he’d let me drag him out here. And the more we’d gone through the playlist, the more the summer sun had found us through the myriad of clouds throughout the day, the more he’d relaxed.
Maybe it was working.
Maybe I could break down that barrier, after all.
Maybe, we really could be friends.
I ignored the way my stomach did a different kind of flip at the notion of the F word, letting out a long, pleasant sigh instead. “I think we did a good job. She’ll be happy.”
“Yeah, me too,” Tyler said, pausing. “You know, I am a little disappointed they didn’t have ‘Like a G6’ on there. I mean, come on — that would have made Morgan happy.”
I gasped, eyes shooting open wide as a laugh found my chest. “Oh, my God,” I said, shaking my head at a grinning Tyler. “I forgot about that song! Oh man, we loved that one. We used to pretend to make music videos for it, remember that?”