Page 71 of The Man I Love

She looked out the window, seeing no signs sending them in another direction.

He took a right, then another, and soon parked the truck in front of a body of water. Groups of people and families were splashing around, and before she could ask what they were doing here, Tristan hopped out of the truck.

His hands then gripped the edge of his T-shirt as he walked around the cab toward her door. He lifted it over his head, then opened her door, and tossed it on the dashboard. “Come on,” he said. “Let's go for a swim.”

She almost laughed. Out of discomfort, or the pure audacity at what he’d just done, she wasn’t sure. “I’m not going swimming, Tristan. I don’t even have a bathing suit with me.”

“Who cares?” He took off his boots, one at a time, and threw them into the cab. “Come on.” He flashed his devilish grin, then stood there with his hands on his hips.

She licked her lips, because the sight of him standing at her door wearing only Levi’s was too much. Part of her wanted to give in––but she couldn’t. Not because of the heat, because he was utterly irresistible. His hair messy, his face full of stubble, and his smile so infectious that a part of her wanted to shove her hands into his hair, yank him forward, and kiss him in a way that would ruin her. Instead, she shook her head and crossed her arms at her chest. “You go.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself.” Then he walked to the edge of the water until his bare feet disappeared into the lake. The sun was on his back, making his bronze skin almost golden. It was moments like this where she wished things were different. Where she could throw caution to the wind and not care about a broken heart. But she had to stay strong. She had someone else to think about today.

She pulled in a breath and rested her hand on her stomach, but he turned around at that moment and his expression fell—as though he’d expected her to follow him.

She raised her brow. “Having fun?”

He shook his head, widening his arms in exasperation. “All you’ve done is complain about the heat. Will you just get out of the truck and into the water already?”

She shifted in her seat and shook her head. “I’m good.”

That must have set him off. His grin turned impatient as he stalked toward her. Her eyes widened, and a giggle bubbled up from her throat. She knew that look.

Pushing back in her seat, she fumbled to lock the door, but it was too late. In a flash, he was in the truck, unbuckling her seat belt and sweeping her out of her seat.

“What—” she pushed at his chest as he cradled her in his arms, “—are you doing, Tristan Montgomery?” All the air rushed from her lungs, but her attempts to wriggle free left him completely unfazed.

He walked directly into the water, not caring that she still wore her shoes. The more she struggled, the deeper he went.

“Tristan!” she yelled. “Put me down!”

Her voice wavered between indignation and disbelief, and before she could stop herself a nervous giggle escaped her

He didn’t put her down. He threw her into the lake!

“Oh G—!” Before she had time to even hold her breath, she was submerged in the icy water. Her feet hit the bottom of the lake, and she pushed up, her head surfacing a second later. She wasn’t sure if it was the shock of what he’d just done, or the freezing temperature of the lake, but she instantly began shaking. She spit ice water from her mouth and turned to face him again.

“Feels good, right?” he asked, grinning with boyish mischief.

“People are staring at us,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“So?” He grinned wider and pushed her head under the water again.

“I can’t believe you did that!” she sputtered as she came up, water streaming down her face. Her ears pulsed with anger, her vision blurred by rage.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, his tone annoyingly calm.

“No, I don’t feel better! My shoes are soaking wet!” She scooped up a handful of water and hurled it at him with as much force as she could muster.

He only laughed, his grin somehow widening. “They’ll be dry by the time we’re back in the truck.” He splashed at her, sending a wave of water crashing into her chest.

“If you think I’m getting back in that truck with you, Tristan Mont?—”

She didn’t finish, because a perfectly aimed splash hit her square in the face.

She backed up a step, unbelieving, and suddenly, she was transported back to middle school. Her competitive spirit ignited like a blowtorch, screaming for her to get revenge. She stalked toward him, but his smile became infectious.

This was what he wanted. He’d intentionally brought her here, intending to start this fight, but she didn’t care.

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