Page 55 of Tourist Trap

“Miles, what are you doing?” she asks low, a hint of a giggle in the words, but I don’t respond. “Where are we going?”

“Far away from him,” I say through gritted teeth, spotting the shaded spot underneath the boardwalk.

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asks, a teasing lilt to her tone.

“That guy’s an ass,” I say, stepping away from her once we’re in the shade, crossing my arms on my chest. She looks at me with feigned irritation before mimicking the move. “And he made you uncomfortable.”

“You seem to be making quite the habit of saving me from unwanted advances.” I shrug, and she takes a step closer to me, a teasing smile on her lips. “You know, I don’t think you pulled me away because you don’t like the guy, Miles.”

“Then why else would I?” I ask, staring down at her.

“You did it because you were jealous someone else was giving me attention.”

I roll my eyes, hearing the footsteps and laughter overhead.

“Trust me, I amnotjealous of Brad Baker,” I say, but it evenfeelslike a lie on my tongue. When she says it, I realize it’s the exact feeling that was coursing through me. Iwasjealous of the attention she was giving him, whether she wanted to give it or not. I was jealous of how close he was to her, of the way he was about to touch her.

“Oh, you so are,” she says as she leans back against the beam of the boardwalk. The light filters in through the boards, moving over her face and highlighting her smile. “Just like at the Seabreeze when Sam was trying to dance with me.”

I roll my eyes. “That was not a jealous thing. It was because he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Why would I be jealous of either of those assholes?”

She shrugs. “Because you’re obsessed with me.”

I shake my head and let out a small laugh, taking off my hat and settling it back on my head. It’s a nervous habit of mine, and, god, does Claire make me nervous.

“You’re out of your mind,” I say.

“You’re so into me, Miles. It’s okay, I can’t blame you.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah?” she asks, a teasing lilt in the words.

“Yeah.” I say with all of the false bravado I can conjure. She straightens up, then takes a step closer to me. “Then prove it.”

“Prove it?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow.

“Prove you’re not into me.” She takes a step closer to me until there’s barely a foot between us. “Kiss me,” she says, this time the words coming out in a breathy whisper.

My heart flips like I’m a kid with his first crush, but to be honest, that’s how Claire makes me feel: completely out of my depth, lost and nervous, and like she can see past everything I normally hide.

“No.”

“Because you’re chicken,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest, the sleeves nearly covering her hands. The huge lifeguard sweatshirt she wears makes me wonder if sheaskedfor a size that would swallow her up or if the department ran out of sizes that actually fit her.

“I’m not chicken. I’m not going to kiss you just because you’re bullying me.”

She smiles at that, continuing to look up at me.

“Oh, this isn’t bullying you. If you want me to bully you, I can.” I let out a laugh without meaning to, and she shrugs. “Some people like that kind of thing.”

“You’re insane,” I whisper, and without meaning to, my fingers shift, touching a strand of her long ponytail that rests on her shoulder. It’s so fucking soft, if a bit knotted from the wind off the ocean. For a delusional moment, I think about how much I'd like to sit here for an hour, gently detangling her tresses with my fingers. “And you’re a deadly fucking flirt.”

“I’m so happy you noticed,” she says with a wide, gleeful smile like she genuinelyisglad.

“Hard not to when you flirt with everyone you see.”

She pauses and then looks at me, a slightly puzzled look on her pretty face as I cross my arms on my chest. “What?”

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