18
I wake up on July fourth knowing today is going to be a problem.
Not because of the team barbecue or the boat ride or the fireworks show we’re all supposed to watch together.
Because of the way Liv looked at me in the bathroom mirror last night.
Because I’ve been walking around my own house for three days feeling like I’m about to crawl out of my skin every time she’s in the same room.
Because today we’re going to be in public together, playing couple, and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend this is all an act.
“You ready for this?” I ask when she comes down the hall in cutoff denim shorts and a red tank top.
“Ready for what?”
“The lake. The guys. The whole day.”
“Yes,” she questions.
“You should be. Things might get a little chaotic.”
She smiles. “I can handle chaotic.”
She’s pulling her hair up into a ponytail, and I try not to stare at the way the tank top rides up slightly when she raises her arms.
Try and fail.
“Good,” I say, grabbing our cooler from the counter. “That’s good.”
The drive to Lake Chelan takes two hours, and we caravan with Reed and Chelsea, Hurley and Colton, and a few other guys from the team. By the time we arrive at the rental house right on the water, the sun is already high and hot, and everyone’s ready to start drinking.
The house is exactly what you’d expect for a Fourth of July lake weekend. There’s a huge deck, private dock, boat tied up and ready to go. The owner already set up a volleyball net on the beach, and there’s a grill smoking on the deck.
“This is nice,” Liv says, looking out at the water.
“Wait until you see the sunset. It’s incredible from the deck.”
“Yeah?” she smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”
She’s being casual, friendly, exactly what she should be. But there’s something in her voice that makes me think she’s working as hard as I am to keep things normal.
“West!” Hurley shouts from the deck. “Get your ass up here and help me with this grill!”
“Duty calls,” I tell Liv.
“Go. I’ll find the girls.”
I watch her walk toward where Chelsea and the other girlfriends and wives are setting up chairs on the deck, and I try not to notice the way her shorts fit or how her legs look in the afternoon sun.
This is going to be a very long day.
By noon, everyone’s three beers in and the energy is exactly what I expected. It’s loud, relaxed, the kind of chaotic fun that happens when a bunch of athletes get together with no responsibilities and unlimited alcohol.
Liv has changed into her swimsuit. It’s a simple black bikini that’s more devastating than anything else would be. She’s been circulating between conversations, charming everyone she talks to, fitting in like she’s been part of this group for years instead of hours.
I’m standing by the grill with Reed, trying to focus on his story about some ridiculous thing that happened during his honeymoon, when Liv appears at my side.
“Hey,” she says, sliding her arm around my waist.
“Hi,” I smile down at her. Hell, she’s cute. She’s absolutely adorable.
She’s close enough that I can smell her sunscreen and the faint scent of whatever shampoo she used this morning. Close enough that I can see the water droplets still clinging to her collarbone from the swim she just took.
“Having fun?” I ask.
“The best. Your friends are great.”
“They like you too.”
“Come sit with me,” she says, tugging on my hand. “I need someone to help me drink this beer.”
“You need help drinking beer?”
“I need someone to keep me company while I drink this beer.”
I smirk. “That’s different.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Completely different.”
She leads me over to where a group is sitting in a circle of deck chairs, talking and laughing. But instead of sitting in an empty chair, Liv settles into my lap.
No hesitation. No asking if it’s okay.
Just sits down, adjusts herself so she’s comfortable, and continues the conversation like nothing happened.
Meanwhile, I’m trying not to have a complete mental breakdown.
Because she’s in my lap. Her back is against my chest, her legs are draped over mine, and one of her hands is resting on my thigh like we do this all the time. Do I need to mention that we don’t? Being this close to her is making me feel… things.
“You okay?” she asks quietly, turning her head so only I can hear.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“You sure? You look tense.”
I shake my head. “I’m not tense.”
She leans her forehead on mine. “You’re definitely tense.”
She shifts slightly, getting more comfortable, and I have to bite back a groan.
“Is that better?” she asks.
I hold her thigh and nod, “Yeah. Better.”
Except it’s not better. It’s worse. Because now I can feel every point where we’re touching, and my brain is cataloging all of it instead of paying attention to the conversation happening around us.
The way her hip fits against my stomach. The warmth of her thigh under my hand. The fact that she smells like summer and sunscreen.
“West, you listening?” Colton asks.
“Yeah, sorry. What?”
“I was asking if you and Liv want to come out on the boat with us later.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
“Cool. We’re thinking around four, before the fireworks.”
“Sounds good.”
Liv leans back against me more fully, and I automatically adjust my arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
It’s instinctive. Protective. Like my body knows what to do even when my brain is short-circuiting.
“This is nice,” she says, tilting her head back to look at me.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I like your friends. I like this.”
She gestures around at the deck, the lake, the whole scene, but something in her voice makes me think she means more than just the setting.
“Good,” I say. “I’m glad.”
Hurley raises an eyebrow at Reed, and Reed smirks back at him. Some kind of silent communication that I can’t decode. I don’t want to know what those two are up to.
“Anyone want another beer?” Chelsea asks, standing up.
“I’ll take one,” Liv says, but when she starts to get up, I tighten my arm around her waist.
“I’ll get it,” I say. “Stay here.”
“You sure?”
I nod, even though I’m not sure why I don’t want her to move. Maybe because having her in my lap feels too good to give up. Maybe because I’m worried if she gets up, she won’t sit back down the same way. Maybe because for the first time in three days, I feel like I can breathe properly.
I grab her beer and settle back into the chair, and she immediately curls back into me like this is where she belongs.
“Thanks,” she says, taking the bottle.
“Welcome.”
The conversation continues around us. It’s something about plans for the rest of the summer, who’s doing what during the off-season, but I’m only half listening.
I’m too focused on the way Liv’s thumb is tracing small circles on my thigh.
Absent-minded, unconscious circles that are driving me completely insane.
“You doing that on purpose?” I ask quietly.
“Doing what?”
“The thing with your thumb.”
She looks down at her hand like she’s just realizing what she’s doing.
“Sorry,” she says, and then she stops.
“I didn’t say stop.”
“No?” she questions.
“No,” I say confidently.
She smiles and continues the small, maddening circles, and I try to focus on anything other than how good it feels.
Try and fail.
Around four, we pile onto Colton’s boat for a sunset cruise around the lake. It’s one of those perfect summer evenings, warm but not hot, clear sky, the kind of golden light that makes everything look like a movie.
Liv sits next to me on the bench seat at the back of the boat, and somewhere during the ride, she ends up pressed against my side with my arm around her shoulders.
The boat is loud with its engine noise, the music, everyone talking and laughing, so when she wants to say something to me, she has to lean in close to my ear.
“This is beautiful,” she says, her breath warm against my neck.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Thank you for bringing me.”
“Thank you for coming.”
She pulls back to look at me, and there’s something in her expression that makes my chest tight.
“I’m having a really good time,” she says.
“I want you to have a good time.”
Her fingers find the hem of my board shorts and start playing with it, rolling the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. It’s an absent gesture, the kind of thing people do when they’re comfortable with someone.
The kind of thing a girlfriend would do.
Except she’s not actually my girlfriend.
Except right now, with the sun setting over the lake and her body warm against mine and her fingers playing with my shorts like she has every right to touch me however she wants, it’s easy to forget that.
“Are we doing okay? With this whole thing?” she suddenly asks.
“What do you mean?” I whisper.
“I mean, are we believable? Do we look like a couple? Am I doing a good job?”
I look around the boat at our friends, who are all drinking and laughing and completely absorbed in their own conversations. No one’s paying attention to us, which means we’re either doing a really good job of looking natural together or everyone’s too drunk to notice if we’re not.
“Yeah,” I say. “You’re doing a good job, Liv.”
She leans into me a little more, and I catch Hurley watching us with a knowing smirk.
“What?” I mouth at him.
He just shakes his head and goes back to his conversation with Colton, but not before giving me a look that clearly says he’s buying whatever we’re selling.
When we get back to the house, the sun is starting to set, and everyone gathers on the deck to watch the fireworks show that’s supposed to start at nine.
Someone’s made margaritas, and the music has shifted to something softer, more atmospheric. The kind of music that makes everything feel romantic and significant.
Liv and I end up on the porch swing at the far end of the deck, away from the main group but still part of the party. She’s curled up next to me with her legs tucked under her, and I have my arm around her shoulders.
“This is perfect,” she says, looking out at the lake where other boats are starting to gather for the fireworks.