3 #2
Ryan’s gaze moved over her face, cool and unreadable. “Only people who look expensive enough to sue the lake if they pass out.”
Charm stared at him for half a second too long before taking the bottle. “That was nearly thoughtful. You should be careful.”
“I live dangerously.”
Rider looked between them and then down at the sand, his mouth curving in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
I only noticed because it had not been long since he tried to shoot his shot with Charm and she rejected him immediately.
She had been clear that friendship was all she could offer, and he respected that, even if his feelings had not disappeared simply because she was honest.
Anyone paying attention could guess Ryan had something to do with it, but Charm had never said that part aloud.
Easton stepped off the dock and started toward us, and every other observation in my head packed its bags and left.
Water slid down his chest in slow lines and disappeared into the waistband of his trunks.
His shoulders were broad, his stomach cut in a way that suggested unfair genetics and worse discipline, and there was a tiny scar near his bottom lip that I remembered from the Hockey House porch because apparently my brain had been storing Easton details without my consent.
He stopped beside Briggs, close enough to be part of the group but far enough not to crowd me.
“Clarke,” he said.
My mouth almost smiled. I bullied it into submission. “Wade.”
His eyes flicked over the bikini once, controlled and quick, before returning to my face. “That bikini feels intentional.”
“It is.”
“Violent.”
“Also intentional.”
Briggs looked delighted. “See? I told you. Hostile swimwear.”
Easton ignored him. “You swimming?”
I glanced at the lake behind him, darkening beneath the sunset. “Do I look like I came here to participate in nature?”
“You’re at a lake.”
“I’m at a party that happens to have one.”
“That’s a no?”
“That’s a you-should-learn-to-read-women-better.”
His mouth shifted, faint and dangerous. “I read you fine.”
Well, that was fucking dangerous.
No man should have been able to say something that simple and make it sound like he had both hands on my hips.
I lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head and looked him dead in the eyes. “What are you up to, Easton?”
His name did the same thing it had done the first night we made out on the Hockey House porch. His gaze sharpened, and the party noise seemed to slide back an inch.
“You tend to ask me that a lot,” he said.
“Because you keep requiring supervision.”
“By you?”
“I’d rather drown.”
“Lake’s right there.”
I stepped closer, just enough to make his eyes drop again. “You offering to save me?”
“No.”
My brows lifted.
His gaze held mine. “If you go in, I’m assuming you meant to.”
I laughed, sharp and real before I could stop it.
That was the problem with Easton. He didn’t flirt like a man begging to be chosen. He flirted like he was already interested and was willing to let me decide whether I had the nerve to admit I was too.
Briggs groaned. “I hate to interrupt whatever terrifying foreplay this is, but some of us are trying to maintain a family-friendly bonfire environment.”
Ryan looked around at the half-naked hockey players, beer cans, and a girl doing a handstand near the dock while someone cheered. “This environment has never met a family.”
“Metaphorical family.”
“Still no.”
Bliss grabbed Charm’s hand. “We’re getting food before Briggs tries to grill something that still has packaging on it.”
“That happened one time,” Briggs said.
Rider lifted his beer. “Twice.”
“Betrayal from the quiet corner hurts the most.”
Charm glanced at me, then at Easton, before looking back at me with the subtle warning of a best friend who knew I was about to do something dumb and had chosen to respect my right to be a disaster.
“You coming?”
“In a minute.”
Bliss opened her mouth, then closed it when my face told her not to mother me in public.
She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at mine. “No bodies in lakes. No felonies. No vanishing without texting.”
“Your rules lack romance.”
“Your choices lack survival instinct.”
“I’ll text if I see a camera and three other guys waiting to ambush me.”
“That’s not funny,” she said.
I knew it was below the belt to joke with them about what happened to me in high school, but Charm dragged her toward the food tables before I could apologize.
Briggs hesitated like he might stay and supervise for moral reasons, but Ryan hooked a hand around the back of his neck and steered him away.
“Come on, golden retriever. Let them ruin their own evening.”
“I feel like I should witness.”
“You witness too loudly.”
Rider stood last, brushing sand from his palms. His gaze cut briefly toward Easton and then me, calm and unreadable.
“The second bonfire’s quieter,” he said, his voice low enough that only we could hear. I looked at him, but he didn’t quite smile. “In case you need a place to chill.”
Then he walked away.
Easton watched him go, something thoughtful moving across his face.
“He’s weird,” I said.
“He hears more than people think.”
“That sounds inconvenient.”
“It is when you’re trying to hide shit.”
I looked back at him. “Are you trying to hide shit?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
His mouth curved. “Maybe.”
The sun had dropped lower, turning the lake dark blue around the edges.
The party shifted with it, bodies moving closer to the fires, wet skin drying beneath towels, and laughter growing louder as the night loosened everyone’s better judgment.
Someone started a second speaker near the volleyball net.
The smell of smoke mixed with coconut sunscreen, lake water, and the sharp, sugary scent of spilled hard seltzer soaking into the sand.
Easton stepped closer, and this time, I didn’t move back. “You came with a crowd, per usual.”
“I often travel with adult supervision.”
“They know you’re looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to decide if I’m worth the inconvenience.”
I smiled. “You assume you’d be inconvenient.”
“I know I would be.”
“That was almost self-aware.”
“I have moments.”
“Rare?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
I tilted my head and let my gaze move over him slowly because if he wanted to look, I could absolutely return the favor. I started at his face, took my time on the scar near his mouth, moved down his throat, chest, the ridges of his stomach, the waistband of his trunks, and back up again.
By the time I met his eyes, his expression had gone still.
Good.
Men always wanted women to be flustered by their bodies until we looked at them like we had plans, and Easton did not blush or smirk when I did it. He only watched me with that awful patience.
“Done?” he asked.
“No.”
His laugh was quiet, almost under his breath. “Honest.”
“Occasionally.”
“You like making people uncomfortable?”
“I like making men aware they’re not the only ones in the room with eyes.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you?”
His gaze dipped to my mouth. “Painfully.”
That should not have worked, but fuck did it ever.
I turned and started walking toward the quieter bonfire before my face could betray me. The sand shifted beneath my sandals, warm on top and cool underneath, and I felt him fall into step beside me without asking permission or grabbing for it.
That was Easton’s thing. He moved like he could take up space without stealing mine.
It annoyed me how much I liked it.
The second bonfire sat farther down the shore near a curve of trees, smaller and less crowded, occupied by a few people talking quietly, a couple making out on a blanket, and two freshmen who looked scared of everyone hotter than them.
The music from the main party reached us as a muffled pulse softened by distance and lake wind.
The fire snapped bright against the dark, throwing orange over Easton’s face when we stopped near the edge of its light.
I kicked off my sandals and stepped into the cooler sand.
Easton watched my feet.
I lifted a brow. “Feet guy?”
His eyes returned to mine. “No.”
“Defensive.”
“Concerned.”
“About my feet?”
“About how many weapons you can turn your body into during one conversation.”
I laughed and moved closer to the water, where the sand was damp and firmer beneath my toes. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
“You set a strange bar.”
“You keep clearing it. Embarrassing for both of us.”
He followed and stopped beside me as the lake rolled in tiny dark waves near our feet.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. The air had cooled enough to raise bumps along my arms, but I refused to shiver because shivering in front of Easton felt like surrender, and I was not doing that in a bikini.
His attention moved over my arms anyway. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re covered in goose bumps.”
“Maybe I’m thrilled by your conversation.”
“Then your standards are lower than I thought.”
“Don’t flirt with me using humility. It’s manipulative.”
“Everything is manipulation to you.”
“Only when men do it.”
His gaze stayed on me, steady and too perceptive. “And when you do it?”
“It’s strategy.”
“Convenient.”
“Efficient.”
He looked toward the water, his jaw tightening like he was fighting a smile. “You ever get tired?”
The question landed wrong, although it wasn’t hard or cruel. It was simply too close.
I turned my head slowly. “Of what?”
“Keeping every answer sharp enough to draw blood.”
The fire cracked behind us.
For a second, I saw a bedroom instead of a shoreline.
Bright lights. A phone angled low. Darian’s friends whispering like they were disgusted and delighted at the same time.
All of them touching me like they owned my body without permission.
Darian’s face when he told me I was overreacting.
Darian’s mouth saying my name like an apology he had already decided I didn’t deserve.
Aura.
I shoved the memory down so fast it almost took my breath with it and smiled. “Careful.”
Easton’s eyes darkened. “Your mouth is a weapon.”