18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
LANE
Ihold my breath as we pull into the gravel driveway of the lake house. My lake house.
Sometimes I can hardly believe it’s mine, but as I take it in with fresh eyes, I can’t help but wonder what Teagan will think of it when he arrives.
The pale-yellow siding is in need of a good power wash. The roof is covered in moss and water stains, seemingly patched together in spots with tar. Overgrown and weeded landscaping surround the little bungalow, growing wildly by the front door where the small porch has long since been torn off, too weathered and worn to be safe.
Inside, I know firsthand how much more work has to be done. Old kitchen cupboards, stained carpets, and water-stained ceilings. But behind the house, the lake unfurls like a ribbon of spilled ink. A craggy old dock in need of repair connects the large backyard to the strip of blue, which sparkles in the fading sun like a bed of diamonds.
The mere sight of it calms me, fills me with an indescribable amount of peace. This one, unmarred, beautiful thing allows me to see past the house’s flaws and imperfections to the beauty within.
It’s been months since I closed on what is to be my new home, yet every time I come here, it still feels like a dream. It’s surreal that it’s mine.
I step out of my old Honda and retrieve Sophie from the back seat, unbuckling her harness so she can climb out. The second her feet touch the gravel driveway, she runs to the corner of the yard beneath the shelter of the weeping willow.
I’ve only brought her here a handful of times and already, I can see it’s becoming her favorite place to play. I don’t blame her; it’s an amazing spot. I, myself, have imagined summer days out here, dappled in the shade of its branches, curled up with a good book and a glass of lemonade.
I pass the time, waiting for Teagan and the contractor while I walk the property, pulling up a few weeds and dreaming, envisioning the house with a new front porch. Maybe one that wraps around the house for a panoramic view. Or an outdoor fireplace. A gazebo by the water. The possibilities are endless.
The crunch of gravel draws my attention, and I turn in time to see Teagan’s car coming up the drive. I holler at Sophie to stay put and meet him halfway, straining to see his reaction through the reflection of the fading sun glinting off his windshield.
A flash of a smile has the fist of nerves releasing in my stomach before he cuts the engine. His door flings open and he steps out. “This is amazing.” He waves toward the house. “Just look at that view. Damn, Lane, you did good.”
I bite my lip, turning to sweep my eyes over what he sees, then back. “It’s pretty great, isn’t it?”
His blue eyes glitter like the sea, allowing no room for doubt. “I don’t know what you got this place for,” he says, “but even with all you’ll have to put into it, it’s worth it. Just for this yard and the lake and that view.” He shakes his head, awestruck in a way that sends a rush of warmth unspooling inside me like a skein of yarn.
“I know. If only I had more time and money,” I say, my tone wistful. “Then we could get it to where we need it, so we can move in.”
If it were just me, I’d stay here now. But with the leaky ceiling and musty carpets, I’d rather wait for Sophie’s sake.
All in good time.
“Once football season is over, I’ll have a lot more time to help,” he says.
My eyes return to his. He says it like it’s a given. But I won’t hold my breath. After the season ends, he’ll be exhausted and ready to just be a normal college student.
By then, he’ll want to cut loose. Party and start dating. Do all the things other guys like him do in their spare time that he can’t do right now because of his commitment to football, and none of those things include helping a single mother remodel her house.
I hum a noncommittal sound under my breath. We might be “friends,” but friendship also has boundaries. What will it be like once he’s dating someone and he brings her around? How will I feel when I see him with a girl on his arm?
My stomach sours at the thought.
“Did you guys have dinner yet?” he asks.
I run a hand through my hair, ignoring the wave of nausea my train of thought has brought on. Food is the last thing on my mind but I know Sophie is probably hungry, and she’s already turned her nose up at the snacks I brought.
“Um, no. We came straight here from the field. I was too worried the contractor might get here early and not wait. What about you? If you’re hungry, maybe we could pick something up or order . . .” I trail off when he holds up a finger and turns, bending into his car to retrieve something before he straightens, a large, insulated bag in hand.
He holds it out like a trophy and gives it a little shake. “Figured as much, so I hurried like hell back to the dorms. Hope you like what is probably now lukewarm mac and cheese.”
My heart flutters. “You made mac and cheese?” I say, dumbly staring at the bag.
He nods, digging inside to reveal a couple plastic forks. “Brought some plasticware and paper plates, too. Figured you didn’t have anything here yet.”
I stare at him completely immobile. Dumbfounded. If I don’t say something soon, he’ll start to wonder what’s wrong with me. Maybe there is something wrong, because it’s beyond ridiculous that I’m getting heart palpitations over a little box of carbohydrates covered in powdered cheese sauce. But I am. My heart totally does a backflip behind my ribs while butterflies erupt in my chest.
How many times has anyone ever taken the time to think about us—me and Sophie?
Never.
But it’s not the first time Teagan’s done it, either.
My gaze lifts to meet his again while I tread in a pool of emotions so over my head, I fear I might drown in them. If I’ve learned one thing about the man in front of me in the weeks I’ve known him, it’s that Teagan Nichols is a man of action, not just a man of words. He doesn’t just talk a good game. He says one thing and then follows through, and I have no doubt he’s like this. Every. Single. Time.
A few weeks ago, when I turned down his advances and my father warned the team off me, he told me he was going to be the best damn friend I’ve ever had. And ever since, it seems he’s dedicated to the cause, completely determined to make good on that promise.
He takes care of the people in his life.
He thinks about them.
And that’s more than I can say about most people.
I glance away from him for a moment, trying to get a rein on my emotions. I’m on the verge of tears over something as silly as macaroni.
After what feels like minutes, but is probably only moments, I’m confident I can speak without my voice wobbling. “I’m sure we’ll love it. Come on.” I nod toward the house, then call out for Sophie. “The contractor should be here soon.”
I scrawl my signature on the job bid before me as Jason from Redd’s Roofing explains they’ll start on the roof at the end of next week with a full crew, which means it will take them about three days to finish the work. I nod, more than a little thrilled they’ll be starting so soon and thank him as he takes the contract in hand. After he removes the top sheet and hands me the yellow copy, I walk him to the door.
A burst of warm autumn air hits me when I open the door. It’s the perfect night for porch sitting, an idea I file away for later as I return to the kitchen where I find Teagan and Sophie still perched in the same spot since our meager meal of mac and cheese.
I watch Teagan help Sophie slide a brightly colored plastic bead on the string of elastic from the bracelet kit I brought to keep her occupied while we’re here. They’ve been at it for almost an hour, and his patience astounds me. I think they’ve made about a dozen bracelets already, and if I know Soph, she could make a dozen more.
Though Sophie has always been an easy-going child, I have to admit, it was nice knowing she was taken care of while I spoke with the roofer instead of having to split my focus. The freedom allowed me to get his opinion on a couple of other things the house needs.
Sophie instructs Teagan to put only heart beads on this one in a bossy tone only a four-year-old can master, and I smile as I slide out my phone to check the time. Almost eight o’clock, just past Sophie’s bedtime.
“Hey, baby, the contractor just left, and it’s past your bedtime. We should probably go get your bed ready.”
“But I’m not tired,” Sophie insists in a tone I recognize is perilously close to morphing into meltdown territory.
I grimace inwardly. The last thing I want is to deal with a tantrum in front of Teagan.
“Just a little longer?” she pleads, taking my hesitation for weakness.
With a sigh, I glance at Teagan who yawns and stretches his arms dramatically above his head. “Man, I’m beat. It’s been a long day and I’m so tired. Maybe I should get going.”
“No, you can’t go yet.” Sophie pleads. “You’ll miss bedtime stories.”
“Oh, well . . . I mean, I do love a good bedtime story, but if I stay much longer it’ll be way past my bedtime too, and I don’t think your grandpa wants me to be tired tomorrow.” He winks at me before returning his gaze to her, and I stifle a laugh.
“Do you have five minutes?” Sophie asks, jumping down from her chair.
“I can probably spare it,” Teagan says, his tone solemn.
“I’ll just get ready real quick, so you can hear stories, too.” She glances at me as if it just dawned on her that she might need my permission. “Mom, can he stay for stories if I get ready now?”
My lips quirk. “I’m okay with it if he is.”
She turns to him, and the hope shining in her blue eyes is so obvious, it makes my stomach sink as I question whether this is a mistake—allowing Teagan around her so much when I know he won’t always be here. “Then you’re staying?” she asks.
“Anything for you, Sweet Sophie.” He nods and reaches out a fist that she bumps with her own, a new trick he taught her earlier.
“Mom does the best voices,” she says through a yawn.
“Does she now?” Teagan grins, and my cheeks flush. “I can’t wait to hear them.”
I groan. “Why don’t you clean up, or no one is getting stories,” I say motioning to the beads scattered about the table.
“You heard the boss.” Teagan begins scraping piles of beads in his hands. “Let’s clean up.” He dumps a huge handful into the plastic tub while Sophie pinches one at a time between her little fingers.
After they’re finished, Teagan scoops Sophie up with a growl while she squeals in delight. “Got you now,” he grumbles before tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
I laugh as I follow behind them, directing Teagan to the first bedroom which is meant to be hers. “I just have to grab our stuff from the car.”
“On it.” Teagan sets Sophie on her feet, then starts to brush past me but I place a hand on his arm to stop him.
The swell of muscle meets my palm, and it takes everything for me to focus and not stutter as I say, “You don’t have to do that. I can go.”
“Nonsense.” Teagan rolls his eyes, then holds his hands out and wiggles his fingers. “Keys?”
I hesitate only a moment before reaching into my pocket and placing them in his outstretched hand.
“Be right back.” He winks, then disappears from sight while I focus on the mundane task of breathing.
I usher Sophie to the bathroom where I have her go potty and give her a quick sponge bath in the old, claw-foot tub I scrubbed last time I was here. By the time I finish, Teagan knocks on the door and tells me the duffle bag I brought is outside the door.
I step out, grabbing the overnight bag with our stuff and quickly help Sophie change into PJs and brush her teeth.
Once she’s ready for bed, we return to the bedroom and I freeze.
The inflatable bed I brought with us for Soph sits in the corner of the room, all set up with her lavender sheets, unicorn bedspread, and pillow. In the outlet nearby, Sophie’s rainbow night light is plugged in and glowing, casting color onto the bare walls.
Something tugs on my chest and when I find Teagan messing with the baby monitor in his hands, my stomach turns in on itself, kicking my heart into my throat.
At our approach he turns, his forehead puckered. “I think I did this right, but—” He taps a button and his forehead smooths when the screen comes on. “Oh, there. I think I got it. You might want to check it just to be sure . . .” he trails off when he notices me staring.
For the second time today, this man—this beautiful, wonderful man—has me next to tears. First, it was boxed food, and now this.
I’m losing it.
That must be the reason.
I’ve gone completely insane.
Or maybe I’ve just been Teagan’d.
The thought makes me snort.
The truth is, I’m so used to doing everything myself; having to struggle solo through nights like tonight where I’m already exhausted by the time I put Soph to bed, leaving me drained. And though it’s partly my own doing—my refusal to ask for help—I can’t help but be moved by Teagan taking the initiative. He doesn’t act like Sophie’s a chore or a burden. Instead, he seems to enjoy helping.
“What?” Teagan grins as he does a double take to the bed and back. “Did I do it wrong?”
I shake my head, my throat tight. “No. I uh—” My voice cracks, and I have to clear it before I can speak. “Sorry. No, it’s just . . . it’s perfect. Thank you.”
His shoulders curve in relief, and I almost laugh at the fact he was worried I might be upset he took charge and set up her room without me. The thought is quite comical.
“Ready, Soph?” I glance down at her, afraid that any moment, I might throw myself at Teagan’s feet.
Sophie nods and runs to the bed, giving it a little bounce when she jumps on. “It’s comfy!”
I smile as I drop the duffle bag from my shoulder and remove the two small books I packed, then ease myself onto the edge of the inflatable bed beside her while Teagan takes a seat nearby on the floor, leaning his back against the wall.
Without preamble, I crack open the first book and start to read, trying my best to ignore Teagan’s probing gaze. More than once, I glance over at him, self-conscious of the inflection in my tone as I read in different voices. But each time, he just grins, his dimples winking at me from his perch on the floor.
Once I finish, I lead Sophie in a couple of prayers, then give her a kiss and a hug, noting the way her eyelids are already drooping heavily with sleep.
“Night, baby,” I say, pressing Betty the Brachiosaurus into her arms before I head for the door. “I’ll be just outside here, and I’ll have the monitor if you need me.”
“Teagan, too?” she mumbles.
My chest tightens, but I nod all the same. “Yeah, Teagan, too.”
“Night, Sweet Sophie,” Teagan says.
My heart kicks the way it did the first time I heard his nickname for her as I head out into the hallway.
Sophie’s quickly becoming attached, growing used to having Teagan around.
Panic accompanies the thought, bubbling behind my breastbone. But as long as I can keep it contained, I’ll be all right.
Besides, he’s only been around a few weeks, and he’s just a friend. I’m not hurting anyone.
I close the door behind us, neither of us speaking until we’re back in the kitchen, away from the door.
The soft static of the monitor fills the silence between us as I turn to face him. Nerves jump in my chest, and I clear my throat, grateful I had the forethought to grab a bottle of wine before I came.
A little relaxation and liquid courage are precisely what I need.
I head to the ancient refrigerator wedged in the corner of the kitchen and open it, pulling out the bottle of Chardonnay, then grab two paper cups off the counter and hold them up. “Want to have a glass and sit out back?”
Teagan smiles and draws closer, each step slow and languid like an animal stalking its prey. I swallow, and the pulse leaps in my throat. His eyes flicker to my neck as if drawn to the movement before he stops an infuriatingly acceptable distance away and leans against the counter. “I don’t drink before games.”
“Oh. How could I forget?” I blink, feeling slightly foolish.
Of course he doesn’t drink before games.
I start to turn and set one of the cups back. “Sorry, I—”
“But,” he says, reaching out and taking the cup from my hand, “I can make an exception this once and have half a glass.”
I exhale and a flush of pleasure creeps up my neck. I need to get a grip. I’m so nervous, I feel like I’m sixteen again, pining over my first crush.
The thought sobers me; that first crush was Chance, and we all know how that ended.
With that in mind, I crack the twist top off the wine and pour both our glasses before holding mine out with a smile. “Fancy, I know.”
Teagan chuckles. “Trust me. It’s not my first rodeo. I’ve drank booze from my fair share of paper cups before.”
Right. I’m sure he’s gone to hundreds of parties between high school and college. Not everyone is stuck at home with a baby at seventeen.
I clutch my cup to my chest, like it can serve as a barrier between him and my heart as I guide us to the small sunroom off the kitchen that leads to a set of sliding doors.
I step outside, and the balmy evening air greets me. At seventy-five degrees and humid, it’s above average temperature for early October. The sky above us is clear and dark with only the moon and stars to light our path to the lake.
“I don’t have any furniture out here yet,” I say, glancing around me at the barren stone patio. “But do you want to sit by the dock?”
It’s a simple question, yet it somehow feels monstrous, like I’m putting myself out there.
“Absolutely.” He reaches out, and his long, warm fingers curl around my hand, shooting tingles up my spine as he pulls me down the grassy slope of the backyard to the lake below.
The soft grass beneath our feet turns to the craggy wood of the old dock. Our footsteps thud heavily over the weather hewn surface, joining the throaty bellows of bullfrogs and the chirring of crickets.
When he releases me so we can sit, I settle onto the edge of it and dangle my legs over the edge, staring out at the silvery reflection of the moon rippling over the glass-like surface of the lake.
“They’re so much brighter from down here,” he says.
I glance over at Teagan to see his head tipped up to the sky, so I do the same and hum in agreement, my mind drifting. I close my eyes for a brief moment, allowing the soft breeze to ruffle my hair like fingers softly combing through my locks.
The last few years might have been challenging, but they led me right here, to this moment, sitting beside a new friend at a house I intend to turn into my dream home. It may have been a long road, and it may not be over yet, but moments like this make the struggle worth it.
I take a sip of my wine and open my eyes once more, allowing the velvety feel of it to coat my tongue and loosen my words. “Thank you for everything tonight. For dinner. For playing with Sophie. Setting up her bed . . . just, everything.”
I see him shrug in my peripheral vision. “No big deal.”
But it is a big deal. He has no idea how those simple acts have left their mark, how they’ve burrowed a place in my heart.
“She’s amazing. You know that, right? I mean, other than my sisters, Sophie is seriously the coolest kid I’ve ever met, and so damn easy to be around.”
I glance over at him, to the strong set of his jaw, the soft slope of his nose, his serious expression, and I realize he means it. He’s not just blowing smoke or saying what I want to hear or being polite. He means every single word he says. Teagan is not the type to hear himself speak.
“Yeah, she’s pretty special,” I say. “I got lucky.”
He turns to me now, his dimples on full display. “There’s no luck about it, Lane. You made her that way. You’re the reason she’s so awesome. You know that, don’t you?”
Do I?
I swallow through the ache in my chest. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Say all the right things at all the right moments.” Things that pierce straight through my heart. It’s like somebody gave him a roadmap to my fucking heart.
God, I’m in so much trouble.
I know it. My heart knows it. My entire body knows it, which is probably why the palms of my hands are growing clammy by the second and my throat is as dry as the dessert despite another swallow of wine.
I hardly ever drink, and it’s been a while since I’ve had even one glass, which is probably why the pleasant buzzing inside my brain is already starting.
I reach out and grab the bottle, refilling my cup. With Sophie safe inside and the monitor clipped to my hip, I can afford to imbibe since I’m not going anywhere until later tomorrow. But Teagan’s another story.
He has a game tomorrow and if I’m smart, I’d ask him to leave, and then go to bed, or choose paint colors. Anything other than what I’m currently doing because he and I can go nowhere. I’m flying down a road I know is a dead-end. But I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Do you think if you’d never had Sophie, you and her father would still be together?” he asks, cutting the silence.
I stiffen for a moment, worried he can see straight through me before I force myself to relax. I might not have history with Teagan but as crazy as it sounds, I trust him, even if I can’t tell him the specifics about the father.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Would Chance have wanted me if I hadn’t gotten pregnant? Would we still be together?
It’s a question I never allowed myself to ponder because the answer is irrelevant.
Teagan’s throat bobs, his gaze searching the water as he absorbs the honesty behind my answer.
“But I don’t think so,” I add.
Chance’s first love was football. Looking back, I’m not sure he had room in his heart for anything else. Including me.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” I say.
“How so?” He glances at me, his expression earnest as he waits for my answer.
I shrug. “Because when I found out I was pregnant, he showed me who he really was. And I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want Sophie, too. We’re a package deal.”
“The best of packages,” he says, and I smile down at my cup as he continues. “Whoever he is, he’s an idiot. He has no idea what he’s missing out on.”
But he does.
He just doesn’t care.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, there are times when I resent him for leaving me when I needed him most, but I also can’t fully blame him, either. We were so young. He was scared, not ready to be a father, and I made the decision to keep Soph. He never really had a choice. I can’t blame him for not wanting to change his whole future to suit me.”
Teagan quirks a brow. “I hope you’re kidding. He’s a fucking tool for leaving you, Lane. I don’t give a shit if he was scared or not. You step up. It takes two people to make a baby, and the second he laid his hands on you, he knew what he was getting into. He should at least be here for you in some capacity. Hell, even if it’s only monetarily.”
I don’t know if this is his way of asking if he’s paying me some sort of child support, but I balk at the idea. Even if Chance gets drafted to the NFL, which I know he will, I don’t want his money. It’s all or nothing with me.
“Maybe I want to do this on my own.”
“You’re stubborn.” Teagan frowns.
“And maybe a little selfish, too. If he doesn’t want me, then I don’t want him. And with him uninvolved, even financially, I don’t have to share Sophie. She’s all mine, and that’s the way I want to keep it.”
Teagan rolls his eyes. “Nice try, but there’s not a selfish bone in your body, Lane Turner.”
I take a large swallow of my wine, wondering how Teagan can so easily take what I say and turn it into a compliment.
“You know so much about me, and I feel like I know very little about you. Tell me more about your family. I know you’re close . . .” I say, steering the conversation away from me.
He nods, and if he recognizes the deflection for what it is, he doesn’t say so. “I had a typical childhood, I guess. Probably pretty similar to yours, from the sounds of it. My parents are pretty great. They’ve been married for a long time, and both run their own businesses, yet somehow managed to be there for all of us and make it all work. My mom runs a catering business that she started when we were in diapers. She’s pretty determined in that way, starting something she loved from the ground up, with sheer will and determination. You remind me of her in that way; strong and unyielding. You’ll stop at nothing to reach your goals and build the life you want. And you won’t apologize for it, either. Kind of like this,” he says, glancing around him. “Not many people our age would see through the dreary exterior of this place to the gem beneath, but you do. And even if they did, they sure as hell wouldn’t put in the work to get what they want.”
I clear my throat, once again redirecting. “You said you have three sisters?”
He laughs. “Yeah. My father and I have been outnumbered for quite a few years now.”
That makes me smile, and I nudge him with my arm. “It probably explains why you’re so good with women.”
His teeth flash in the moonlight. “You think I’m good with women?”
I roll my eyes. “You know you are.”
His gaze drops to my mouth, the blue turning liquid.
“Tell me about your friends,” I say through the vise grip on my chest. “You said you’re really close to some of your old teammates from your hometown, right?”
“Yeah. Jace, Atlas, and Graham. Atlas is the newest of our group, but we’re more like brothers than anything. Over the summer, I lost a friend, though. Knox Brian.” He shakes his head. “Turned out he betrayed us all, really pulled the wool over our eyes and he wasn’t the man I thought he was. I’ve had kind of a hard time opening up to some of the guys at CU because of it, and don’t get me started on secrets and lies and . . .” He trails off, and his throat bobs. I can tell whatever he’s referring to cuts deep. “Well, I guess you could say lying is a hard no for me.”
I remember the day he chased me down on campus. He mentioned then he couldn’t handle liars. Looks like he was serious.
“I think I mentioned that Jace is dating my sister?” he says, tearing me from my thoughts.
“What’s that like?”
“Fucking weird.”
I bark out a laugh.
“Seriously. I mean, it took some getting used to the idea, especially because in high school my best friend was known to be a player. But somehow, he’s just what she needs, and she’s everything to him.”
“I couldn’t imagine being away from my family. Do you miss them?”
“Yeah, but we talk a lot, and we’ll get together when we can. I guess distance is all a part of growing up and getting older.”
“All your friends play college football?”
“Well, we all used to. Graham sort of . . . burned out. His father was kind of brutal and really put him through the ringer. It just wasn’t in his heart anymore. Only Atlas and Jace still play. Both for Big Ten schools, too. We already played Jace at AU this year and somehow lost. We’re slated to play Atlas at OSU—”
“At the end of the season,” I finish for him. “Yeah, I know.”
Grinning, he lifts his chin. “Look at you memorizing the schedule.” When I laugh, he adds, “Atlas is already talking shit about bringing us down a peg, since we’re vying for their spot.”
“I can’t imagine what that would be like, playing against them when you’re used to playing with them.”
“It’s weird, for sure. As athletes, we’re all a little cocky, so you think you’re the best and want to kick their ass, but you’re also proud as hell when they excel on the field. I have no doubt Atlas will get drafted, and Jace has a pretty damn good chance, too.”
“And you?” My heart clenches. I have no claim to him. We’ve only known each other a short time, yet the thought of him leaving after his four years are up saddens me in a way it shouldn’t. It’s a good reminder to keep my walls up. No matter how good of a friend he becomes, Teagan’s future in football will likely dictate his life.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought about it. I think anybody who loves a sport enough to essentially dedicate eight years of their life to it between high school and college has thought about it. You’d be crazy not to imagine what it would be like, to dream of being drafted. But at the end of the day, it just comes down to two things.”
“Which are?”
“Talent and drive. Are you good enough, and how bad do you want it?”
I already know he’s talented or my father wouldn’t have him on the starting lineup. I want to ask him how bad he wants it, but the words don’t come. They stick in my throat, heavy and leaden on the tip of my tongue.
Instead, I glance back out to the water. Maybe I don’t want to know the answer. All I’ve done the last four years is look ahead to the future. It’s what I had to do to ensure I could provide for Sophie and give her the life she deserves.
But I’m tired.
For once, I want to just be Lane Turner, a twenty-one-year-old college student with no inhibitions. I want to be free and maybe a little bit reckless. I want to experience the kind of things I missed out on during the last four years because I had to grow up so quickly.
A breeze ripples the dark surface of the lake, and I wonder how cold it is. How the water would feel against my bare skin.
“Have you ever gone skinny dipping?” I blurt.
I can feel his eyes on the side of my face, heating my skin, and I have to bite my lower lip to keep the blush from rising to my cheeks.
“Yes,” he answers.
Of course he has.
“I haven’t. I haven’t done a lot of things.” Except sex. I’ve done that. I had sex twice, and here I am—the product of that choice is sleeping peacefully in her bed inside the sliding glass doors.
Before Sophie, I was shy. I was also a rule follower. I never would’ve gone skinny dipping or parked somewhere to fool around with a boy. I never even drank under the age of twenty-one, too nervous and scared of getting caught.
Hell, the only reason I even lost my virginity so young was because I completely trusted Chance. He was always around, like he was already part of the family. Most days, my father treated him like a son, and that summer, Chance saw me in a new light. He made me feel like a woman. Desired. And I thought he loved me. I believed him when he said every part of me was safe with him.
I was naive.
Then after Sophie, I had no time for anything else. Even if I had the time and opportunity, I’ve spent the last four years desperately proving I’m not irresponsible. I’ve done everything in my power to escape further judgment.
Whether it’s the boy beside me emboldening me or the wine loosening my limbs, I rise to my feet, an idea unfolding.
I kick off my sandals, and Teagan’s lips quirk, clearly amused. I’d love nothing more than to wipe the smile from his face so before I can overthink it and change my mind, I reach for the hem of my shirt and lift. In one swift movement, I pull it up and over my head. It dangles from my fingertips a moment, then falls.
The little flecks of green in his blue eyes burn in the darkness, almost catlike as he tracks my every move. The smile slips from his lips and a surge of satisfaction chases my ability to make it vanish.
I’ve never been more grateful in my life for the fancy underwear Gabby gifted me for my twenty-first birthday because, if the expression on Teagan’s face is any indication, he more than likes the purple lace bra I’m wearing.
My fingers move to the buttons of my shorts next, and Teagan’s eyes home in on the movement. “Lane, what are you . . .?” The gravelly rasp of his voice verges on desperation, and I laugh, drunk on the attention.
“It’s warm out, and I’m going skinny dipping. What does it look like I’m doing?” Somehow, in the last few minutes, I’ve become the bold one, and it’s so disorienting it makes my head spin.
Or maybe that’s the wine.
I shimmy the shorts down my full hips, standing in front of him in nothing but my matching bra and panties while a thousand insecurities rise to the surface. I have stretch marks. Birthing hips. I could stand to lose a few pounds and haven’t worked out since Sophie was born.
But I shove them all away as his eyes rake over me.
His Adam’s apple bobs, and the dimples I love so much are nowhere to be found as his jaw tightens, the muscles flexing in his cheeks.
“Are you going to join me or sit there staring?”
His nostrils flare, eyes brightening at the challenge, and he stands so fast, he’s a watercolor of movement. Gripping his shirt behind his neck, he yanks it up and over his head in one fluid motion. His abdominals ripple before me, his chiseled chest flanked in shadow.
I want to reach out and touch him, to trace every groove and line with my fingers, to feel them clench and undulate beneath my touch, but I don’t. Instead, I settle on unclasping my bra and let the material slide slowly from my shoulders, my breasts, focusing on the decadent way the night air whispers against my skin. And when it falls to the wooden planks in front of me, Teagan’s gaze turns feral.
He takes a step toward me, and my heart leaps before I turn and step to the edge of the dock where I quickly shed my panties, then dive into the cold, dark depths of the lake.