Page 33 of It Started at the Lake

It’s late, and if we were in Amherst, there’s no way I’d be out of the house right now. But I’m not worried about being mugged—or worse—here in Stokesley. What I’m thinking about is soaking in the peace Bennett’s rock provides.

Today was weird.

One minute I’m admitting Bennett is hot, but able to enjoy my time getting to know him. Next, I’m love-drunk. Correction: lusting after him. Then there’s Cam at the bar, hoping Bennett and I get together. What the what?

My mind is swirling like a twist cone at McDonald’s. To clear everything and start fresh, I need that rock. Shining the flashlight I found in the closet by the front door, I make my way through the trees. Once I’m a few yards away from my destination, a muffled voice stops me in my tracks.

Clicking the light off (because somehow being in the dark helps me hear better), I listen to make sure it’s Bennett and not some psycho trespasser.

“I went kayaking this morning and played pickleball this afternoon,” the voice that definitely sounds like Bennett says. “The sun felt good on my shoulders. Then I went shopping with Evie and her friend, Camille. Can you believe I lasted three hours? I’m sorry I complained when going with you. I wouldn’t now. I’d let you look as long as you wanted at whatever store we were in. Anything just to be with you again.”

Is Bennett talking to Jen? Does he always do this? I should leave. That’s the considerate and smart thing to do. Taking a step backward, I hear my name again and freeze.

“I get why Evie wanted me to meet Millie. She’s pretty, like you. But in a different way. You were tall, dark, and beautiful. Millie’s light and bright like the sun. She keeps asking me silly this or that questions. But I can’t deny they're keeping my mind off of you. I guess it’s working. The problem is, I can’t tell if not thinking about you is a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe that’s all Evie wanted Millie to be for me—a distraction. A new friend to get to know. Because I do like her. As a friend, I mean. You don’t have to worry I’m moving on from you. It won’t happen.”

A distraction? Ouch, that comment stings. But I’m glad he sees me as a friend. If I can get my stupid attraction under control, Bennett could be a great friend to me as well.

“Anyway, I’m doing my best to keep occupied and do what everyone wants of me and not think about you all the time. But I miss you like crazy, Jen. I’m sorry for what I did. I really hope you’ve forgiven me, although I’ll never forgive myself. I love you, belle. I’m not sure how much longer we have to be separated from one another, but know this, you are it for me. I’m yours. Forever and always.”

Bennett kisses his fingers, then places them over his heart.

Tears sting the back of my eyes. This moment is tender and sweet and utterly heartbreaking. My little developing crush is peanuts compared to what Bennett’s going through. My arms long to wrap around him and comfort him, but I can’t. If he sees me right now, I’ll be mortified, and he’ll probably be upset even though he told me I could come whenever I wanted. I don’t think he meant this late—later than I’m normally awake, or during his private time with Jen.

Tiptoeing, I head back toward the house. In my room, I fill out my journal with all the events of today, ending with a promise to keep asking Bennett questions and do what I can to be his friend and help him have a good summer.

CHAPTER 15

Camille

“Are we swimming?” I ask Evie, who once again barged in on my yoga routine. It’s not that warm out and after the freezing water from my initiation jump, I’m not inclined to do it again.

“Nope.” She gets off my bed. “We’re cruising around the lake, but that’s it. Wear whatever you’ll be warm and comfortable in.”

“What are you wearing?” I’ve never cruised around a lake before.

“Jeans and a t-shirt. I might take a light sweater in case the wind picks up.”

That’s an outfit I can handle. “Perfect. Let me get changed and I’ll meet you—” I’m still not one hundred percent oriented with this mansion—“in your room so we can get breakfast.”

She gives me a knowing smile. “See you in a bit.”

Evie hands me a few towels, “Just in case” from the cabinet by the hot tub outside, grabs a few herself, then leads the way down a stone path to the water.

The large white boat with a navy blue bottom I saw in the boat house yesterday is waiting at the end of the dock. Maroon 5 blares from the speakers. My legs get a little wobbly as we approach. I’ve never been on a boat before. Will I get motion sickness?

“Welcome aboard Betty the Boat,” Emerson greets me, holding out a hand to help me climb aboard.

I place my palm in his—curiously, his touch doesn’t make heat zip through me like Bennett’s did, but it doesn’t matter because Bennett’s a friend—and step into the boat. The back dips a little and I tighten my fingers around Emerson’s. “Betty the Boat?” I joke, attempting to hide my nerves.

He glides a hand along the edge. “She’s a beauty and reliable to boot.”

I know nothing about boats. If he’s saying she’s reliable to ease my nerves, I appreciate it. But he also could have said they’d owned it for thirty years and weren’t sure if we’d make it home safe and I’d still sit my butt down across from Camden, right behind the windshield. There’s no way I’m missing out on this experience, regardless of my skittering pulse.

Evie unties the boat, jumps in, and goes straight to the front with Henry and Bennett.

My eyes find the man I’m trying—and failing—not to think about. Bennett’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. A simple, classic look for any man. On Bennett? In a boat with his arm draped casually across the back of the seat with sunglasses on?

Drool. Worthy.

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