Page 69 of The Trouble with Players

“Does Crew know?” I asked.

“Yeah. That’s what Coach is talking to him about right now. He should be out in a minute. They were just wrapping up,” Cody said before looking to Gina. “You ready, babe?”

She nodded then looked to me. “Have fun.”

I smiled as they walked off.

“Now there’s a welcome sight.”

I turned to find Crew parting ways with one of his teammates in the parking lot.

“Congratulations,” I said as he walked over to me.

“Thanks,” he said before pressing his lips to mine. Once he stepped back, his eyes moved to my mom’s Jeep behind me. “What’s this?”

“I have a surprise for you,” I said.

His brows arched. “Did you write me a poem?”

“What? No.”

“Will you?” he asked.

“I wrote those when I was a kid.”

“Well, they were good. You should write more.”

“Maybe one day. But for now, get in.” I got behind the wheel while Crew tossed his baseball bag in the backseat and then hopped in the passenger’s seat.

It was a short drive through town and almost sunset when we pulled into the marina parking lot. I parked and killed the engine. Crew looked to me like I was going to explain, but I just stepped out. “Come on,” I called as I pulled a hoodie from the backseat and took off for the docks.

“Your family owns a boat?” he asked, catching up and keeping pace with me.

“It’s obnoxious, isn’t it?” I said as we passed by boats of all sizes.

“Not if we’re going on it,” he said.

“Oh, we’re definitely going on it,” I assured him.

“You know how to drive a boat?” he asked as we reached the last boat on the dock.

“We’re gonna find out,” I said, stopping beside the Grand Slam, a twenty-seven-foot Boston Whaler. It wasn’t a yacht like some of the massive boats in the marina, but it was in pristine condition given my father didn’t usually even take it out.

Crew eyed the sleek boat. “Have you seriously never driven this?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I said. “Get on board.”

Despite my response, he still climbed aboard. “Just don’t kill us.”

I laughed. “Fine. I know how to drive it. And, we’re not going far.”

I stayed on the dock and crouched by the cleat, untying the rope from it. “Catch this,” I called to Crew who caught it when I tossed it. I hurried to the bowline and untied it from the cleat and spring line, tossing it to Crew as I climbed onto the boat. I moved behind the wheel and started up the motor. “Once I move away from the dock, pull the buoys onboard.”

He nodded and looked over the side of the boat for the buoys. Once I hit the throttle and reversed slowly out of the slip, he pulled the buoys onboard and moved beside me.

The sun had yet to set, so an orange glow lit our way as I steered us away from the marina and out into the bay.

“You look incredibly hot handling this thing,” he said.

---