Chapter 34
Ethan
The week after prom stretched and snapped like a rubber band.
We worked side by side at the store, Lily in her sundresses and scribbled planners, me at the counter or hauling boxes, but the air between us had gone stiff.
Polite. Distant. She cracked jokes for the customers, charmed every vendor who called, and gave me bright smiles that felt a little too bright, like the kind you send across a crowded room instead of across a desk.
I answered with nods, clipped thanks, the safe stuff. And underneath, I hated it.
The problem was simple enough. I wanted her.
Not just the glitter-and-sunshine parts, but the stuff she refused to give.
And every time she shut me out, it reminded me that wanting more from someone who had no intention of staying was a fool’s game.
I kept telling myself to keep it clean, keep it professional. Most days, it almost worked.
By Saturday, though, I was ready for air that wasn’t tinged with paper dust and fluorescent lights.
I’d promised Ava and Lucas I’d meet them at the community pool.
Ian would be there too, which meant sunscreen, floaties for the little ones, and at least one emergency snack run.
Cora Carter was on the lifeguard stand these days, which meant I’d probably get whistled at for something before the afternoon was over, but at least the kids wouldn’t drown.
Thank goodness Kayla swore she and Jason would be around to help.
The little ones loved her, and she always knew how to wrangle a pack of kids without losing her mind.
Even Nate said he’d show up and lend a hand.
It was shaping up to be loud, messy, and a little exhausting—exactly what I needed. Anything to keep my head busy. Anything to keep me from replaying prom night every time the store went quiet.
The pool was already humming when I got there—kids cannonballing, moms in sun hats clustered by the deep end, the faint whiff of chlorine clinging to everything. I barely got two feet in before Ian launched himself at me, dripping wet and grinning.
“Uncle Ethan! Race you to the diving board!”
“Hey, bud! You know Cora’s gonna yell if you run,” I called after Ian as he did a barefoot speed walk across the concrete.
Ava and Lucas weren’t far behind, water wings squeaking as they clambered toward the shallow end.
I trailed them, resigned, while Sarah waved and Matt hollered something about sunscreen.
“Appreciate you, man,” Matt said, already backing toward the gate. “We just need an hour—some food, maybe five minutes without answering to ‘Dad.’”
Sarah grinned, slipping her arm through his. “Thanks, Ethan. We’ll be back in a bit.”
I shook my head, half-smiling. “Go. I’ve got them.”
And just like that, I was on duty. Ava clung to my shoulders, shrieking as Ian launched a cannonball in the deep end, while Lucas paddled toward me in his water wings, legs kicking furiously but going nowhere fast. I moved with them, waist-deep in the shallow side, steady hands ready to grab whoever slipped next.
It wasn’t exactly relaxing, but their laughter had a way of softening the edges.
That was when Rachel walked in, sunglasses perched on her head, tote bag on one arm. And beside her, Lily.
I swear the temperature spiked ten degrees.
Lily had her hair loose and wavy, sunglasses tipped just so, slim ovals with amber lenses that caught the sun, a cherry-red bikini, looking like she wandered off the set of Baywatch, and one of those easy sarongs knotted at the hip.
Every head in a twenty-foot radius turned, including mine, and I had to force my jaw to stay put.
She spotted me almost instantly. Waved—casual, like she hadn’t just short-circuited my brain—and then she was gone, already in motion. Bag dropped, clipboard out of nowhere, Lily Harper had turned the community pool into her office in under a minute.
“Mr. Mills,” she called across the deck, flagging down the pool manager, “what do you say we raffle a couple of season passes at the Summerfest silent auction? Great publicity for you, big win for us.” He laughed, already caving before she finished the pitch.
Next, she cornered a cluster of dads by the diving board, convincing two of them to take shifts in the dunk tank.
Then she slid onto a lounge chair beside a trio of moms, pen flashing as they signed up for manning the merch table.
By the time she checked in with Cora about teen volunteers, she’d wrangled more commitments than the town council did in a month.
Finally, she snapped her notebook shut, grinning. “Alright,” she announced loud enough for half the deck to hear, “business handled. Now it’s pool time.”
Sandals off, sunglasses on, she was on the water’s edge tugging Lucas’s goggles into place, promising Ian she’d race him, splashing Ava until she squealed. Within minutes, she had three conversations going at once, and the entire shallow end orbiting her like she was the sun.
I tried to keep my distance. Parked myself beside Nate, pretending to be invested while he recapped last night’s date in vivid detail—right down to how he “accidentally” scheduled two dates for the same night and still somehow made both women think they got the prime slot.
But my eyes had a mind of their own. Every time I looked up, there she was—laughing, shining, making it all look so damn easy.
And me? I just kept watching, like I always did, pretending it didn’t matter.
The water fight didn’t really start until Kayla and Jason showed up, dripping popsicle juice and daring each other to belly flop.
Jason lobbed a foam ball at Nate, who retaliated with a cannonball that nearly drowned two middle schoolers.
Then Jason snatched the foam ball midair and winged it straight at Kayla, who let out a theatrical scream that echoed across the entire pool deck.
Within seconds, the shallow end was a battleground—splashes, shrieks, chaos spreading like wildfire.
Ava clung to the edge, shrieking, “Save me, Uncle Ethan!” Lucas tried to climb onto my shoulders like I was his personal lifeguard tower. I sighed and waded in.
“About time!” Lily whooped, hands cupped as she sent a wave straight at me. Her sunglasses were gone, her hair dripping down her back, and she looked like trouble incarnate.
Something inside me cracked open at the sight of her—water-slick and laughing—and before I could think better of it, my hands were already reaching toward her.
“You’re gonna regret that,” I warned, passing the kids off to Kayla before lunging toward Lily. She squealed, darting sideways, but I caught her around the middle, hands sliding against her slick skin as I hauled her half off her feet and dumped her backward into the water.
She came up gasping, laughing so hard she could barely splash me back, her palm smacking against my chest in mock outrage. “Dirty move, Calloway!”
“Fair’s fair,” I said, grinning in spite of myself. The sound of her laugh, the flash of her teeth—it loosened something in me I’d been trying to keep locked tight since prom.
We went at it again—her shoving water at me, me blocking with my shoulders—until we were both breathless, hair plastered, faces close.
For a second, it didn’t feel like a game.
Her hand was still on my arm, my fingers still curved at her waist, water streaming down the line of her neck into the edge of her bikini top.
I noticed. Of course I did.
I made myself let go, pushing back a step like distance might fix the fire crawling under my skin.
She leaned against the pool wall, chest rising and falling, laughing still.
The water had turned her lashes heavy, her smile softer, and there was a moment—just one—when it felt like she was laughing with me, the way we used to.
My chest tightened, heat and ache all twisted together. Because touching her like that wasn’t supposed to matter. And it did. Too much.