Chapter 7
THEA
“Nope,” Addy says, her fists anchored on her hips as she faces off with Harrison. “No fucking way.”
My sister rarely curses, but this time it’s well earned.
We’re standing on a wooden platform looking out at a waterfall, gently sloping rocks with a constant stream of water flowing over them.
Visitor after visitor takes their place at the top, scooching as the stream builds up enough strength to carry them along the sixty-foot slope until they land in a pool of water at the bottom. I shiver just looking at it.
This is no human-engineered slide where you know what you’re getting. Each slider moves down the rocks differently, completely at the whims of nature, the slightest shift of their weight getting them caught up in a different current and sending them along a new path.
“When you said Sliding Rock, you literally meant a rock you slide on,” I say, tilting my head as a family of five stretches across the wide top of the rock, counting down before pushing off.
Owen chuckles next to me. “Not the most creative name.”
“This can’t be safe,” I say as two friends going down collide, their shoulders slamming together.
“Which is why we won’t be going on it,” Addy says.
“It isn’t dangerous,” Owen says, his brow furrowed like he’s working through every scenario. “People have been doing it for hundreds of years.”
Harrison slides his arms around Addy’s waist, tugging her close to him. “Come on, babe. You know you want to go.”
He’s right. Life has forced Addy into the perfect, responsible box, but she’s got an adrenaline streak.
Like last year, when she took me to Universal for my birthday and I convinced her to go on the VelociCoaster.
I spent the next two hours with my head in a toilet while she rode it three more times.
I always wonder who she’d be if we’d been raised differently, in a home that provided the security for her to explore her wild side instead of dozens that required to her to always be levelheaded.
When Addy huffs, Harrison pulls her closer. “If you try it and you don’t want to go again, I’ll grow out that beard you’ve been begging me for.”
Addy turns her head so she can see him. “And no backing out when it gets all patchy to start?”
“I swear. That’s how confident I am that you’ll love this.”
Addy shakes out her arms. “Fine. I’ll do it. Once.”
Harrison plants a smacking kiss on her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
I step closer to Owen, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Are they always this nauseatingly adorable?”
“Worse,” he whispers back, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “You up for it?”
I’m about to open my mouth to say hell no.
My visit to Universal was enough to show me that I do not, in fact, enjoy the feeling of my stomach swooping.
As for the drop into freezing cold water at the end, who does like that?
You don’t grow up in Florida and willingly put yourself in water below seventy degrees.
But before I can speak, Addy says, “If I’m doing it, Thea’s doing it.”
I can’t help but laugh at the way she shimmies her shoulders. She’d let me back out if I thought I couldn’t handle it, but she gets so few moments like this, carefree and joyful, and I want to be a part of this memory for her.
Owen catches my eye, and I see the challenge there, like he’s sure I’m going to bail at any second.
“You think I’m too scared?”
His small smile grows. “It’s cold. I mean, really cold. Like, can’t feel your limbs after cold.”
“Trying to scare me off, Hayes?”
Owen smirks. “Just giving you fair warning, Pappas.”
I start to respond, but all brain function is wiped out when Owen grabs the back of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion.
My mouth goes dry as the Sahara at the expanse of tan skin before me.
He’s all lean muscle, not jacked like men who spend hours at the gym so they can brag about how much they can lift, and I’m struck with the overwhelming desire to see if those pecs are as solid as they look.
I spin away from him, hoping it was quick enough that none of our group—most especially him—caught my ogling. I lift my tank top over my head, unsnapping my jean shorts and letting them drop to the wood deck, unable to resist looking over my shoulder to see if Owen’s watching me like I watched him.
He’s not.
He’s at the side of the deck, hands gripping the wooden railing as he watches the swimmers glide through the pool to the steps. I shouldn’t be disappointed by that.
“Carry me over,” Addy says to Harrison when she realizes we’ll have to walk through ankle-deep water to reach the hill leading to the top. “If I feel the temperature of the water, I’ll chicken out.”
“My pleasure,” Harrison says, grabbing Addy and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She screams and beats at his back, but he just laughs louder, intentionally splashing through the water to mess with her.
I get what Addy sees in him. He’s genuine, all his thoughts and opinions written across his face. Addy will always know where she stands with him.
“Need a ride, too?” Owen asks, his low voice tugging at something deep in my stomach.
“Nah,” I say. “I like to know what pain I’m getting into before it hits.”
I spend the fifteen-second walk through the water to the—blessedly dry—line muttering every curse I know. The deep pool at the bottom of the waterfall taunts me while we wait for our turn, and my stomach churns with each step up the hill.
When we get to the top, Harrison pulls Addy between his legs. She squeals as the cold water slides around her body, but Harrison’s already scooching them forward. Addy’s screeched “Oh my god” reaches all the way back up to us until they slip off the edge of the rock and into the pool.
“Our turn,” Owen says, holding out a hand.
“You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Liar,” he says with a chuckle. “Don’t back out now. You’re so close.”
I huff out a breath, stepping with him off the dry path and into the flow of the water.
“Holy fucking fuck, that is so fucking cold,” I say, wincing at the sharp bite of the water and forgetting about the sweet family of five behind us in line. I send an apologetic glance to the parents. “I’m sorry.”
“She’s not wrong, Mom,” the shortest of the three girls says. “It’s really fucking cold.”
The mom sighs and rubs a hand over her eyes while the dad stifles a laugh. “Please don’t say ‘fucking,’ Sophie.”
It’s the type of family I always imagined for me and Addy, loving parents who are gentle even when we screw up. How different would life have been if we’d been raised like this?
I absently rub at the ache in my chest, but that just spreads cold water from my hands over my body. Owen watches me from about a foot away as I shiver. He holds his hand out again, and before I can question whether it’s smart to exchange these small touches, I clasp it.
“Ready?” he asks, giving me the freedom to choose. Dozens of people stand in line, watching our every move, but Owen waits, holding my hand and not tugging me along.
After a few seconds during which I seriously consider hopping back up and running away, I nod. When I still don’t move, he chuckles and whispers, “Need some help?”
“Yes, please,” I whimper back.
He pulls me along with him, the current strengthening until we lose all control.
I squeeze his hand so tight that his bones may snap, but he never tries to escape, keeping my hand in his as we fly down the mountain.
It’s a bumpy ride, nothing like the man-made slides at the cheap water parks around Central Florida.
The current takes us away from each other, but Owen gives my hand a tug to bring us back together.
He only lets go when we land in the icy pool.
It’s like a million tiny pinpricks, but it’s also a shot of adrenaline.
We’re both laughing when we break the surface of the little pool. His eyes are shining, the silver droplets of water scattered across his lashes making his eyes even brighter.
“Holy shit,” I say. “That was incredible.”
“Going again?” he asks.
“Oh, hell no,” I say, and he throws his head back with a big, booming laugh that sinks into my bones.
We swim over to the steps, slipping on the rocks. Owen places a hand on my waist after one particularly slippery rock, and that one little touch wakes up my senses more than the dip in the freezing water.
“Let’s go again,” Harrison says when we meet them at the top of the steps. Addy bounces on her toes, and I know I’m going to cave.
“Once is enough for me,” Owen says. “Thea, want to hang in the sun while they go?”
Warmth spreads through my limbs at the soft smile on his face. He wants to go again. He said so in the pool thirty seconds ago, but he’s willing to sit it out so I’m not the bad guy.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to pull back on my smile. “That sounds great.”
Harrison and Addy shoot off to the line. A few seconds later, a towel covers my shoulders. I turn to find Owen, still gloriously shirtless with water droplets dusting his broad shoulders.
“You don’t have to give me your towel,” I say, shrugging it off. “I should have thought about needing one when Addy told me to wear a bathing suit.”
He grabs the side sliding off my shoulder and tugs it back into place. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not, you have to be cold, too, and I—”
“Keep the towel, Thea.” His voice is low. Commanding. A shiver moves through me for a whole different reason than the cold water.
We find a spot at the edge of the deck with the most direct sunlight. The weather’s warmed up since this morning, but it’s still chilly in the shade, and I need every bit of warmth possible.
“I’m guessing you came out here every summer growing up?” I ask, shifting my body so I can look at him.
He mirrors my position, running a hand across the back of his neck as he smiles. “Yeah, a few times. Aunt Dawn has this giant bus to shuttle people back and forth to town for wedding events, but during the week, she’d let us take it out. The cousins would pile in and head out here to cool off.”