Page 9 of The Forbidden Summer
“What?” I ask, my voice a little too sharp, but I can’t help it. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me—like I’d just done something that caught his full attention.
Père smirks, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. “Nothing. Just admiring the view,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
I blink, momentarily thrown off balance. “What, the view of me guzzling water like a dehydrated dog?”
He chuckles, the sound warm and easy. “You’ve got a way of making the simplest things look... interesting.”
I can’t tell if he’s complimenting me or messing with me, but either way, I’m too distracted by the sudden sting of his gaze to respond properly. Shifting uncomfortably, I try to brush off the weird tension building between us, but it lingers like the humidity in the air. My fingers tighten around the water bottle.
“So,” I clear my throat, hoping to change the focus, “you think I’m some sort of water-drinking expert now, or what?”
Père leans back against the tree with that same knowing grin, his eyes still warm but laced with something else. “I think you’ve got potential. But next time, try not to spill half of it. Might be more impressive if you don’t look like you just ran a marathon in a sauna.”
I glance down at my soaked chest and can’t help but laugh, feeling my cheeks warm. “The sun refracts off the water, making me look more defined,” I tease, trying to salvage my dignity with a joke.
Père raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “You’ve been working those muscles hard today. Can’t deny that.”
My pulse kicks up a notch, and I force myself to meet his eyes, trying to keep my composure. “Yeah, well, someone has to do the heavy lifting around here,” I say, half-flipping the axe in my hand. It’s mostly to cover the nervousness bubbling up inside me.
Père’s gaze softens, and the teasing tone fades just a little. “You’re doing fine, kid. Really. Just... don't work yourself to the bone. We’ve still got plenty of summer left.”
“Kid? Oh, hell no. You can’t ogle my muscles in one breath and belittle my manliness with the next! Take that back.”
Père chuckles, the sound deep and warm as he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly enjoying my mock outrage. “Oh, come on now,” he teases, his eyes glinting with mischief, “I’m just trying to keep you grounded. You think you're all tough with those muscles, but you’re still my kid, no matter how grown up you think you are.”
I squint at him, narrowing my eyes, trying to suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Well, if I’m ‘just a kid,’ then maybe I’ll have to start working out even harder, just to prove you wrong.” I flex an exaggerated bicep for effect, feeling a rush of playful confidence.
Père looks amused. “You keep flexing like that, you might just break something.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.” I wink, tossing theaxe to the ground. “But just so you know, I’ll be flexing a hell of a lot more than my muscles around here from now on.”
He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll take it back,kid. But you better keep that flexing to a minimum unless you want me to have to throw you in the lake to cool off.”
I stand taller, striking another ridiculous pose. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” I grin, glancing at him to gauge his reaction.
Père only smirks in response. “You might just find out sooner than you think.”
An undercurrent of something unspoken passes between us. But then he breaks the tension with a roll of his eyes, grabbing his own axe and walking past me.
“You’ve got a lot of work to do if you’re gonna catch up with me,” he calls over his shoulder, already moving to the next log, and I can’t help but grin at his challenge.
“Oh, it’s on,” I mutter, picking up my axe again with renewed energy, determined to show him that I’m more than just akid.
He splits three logs in the time it takes me to chop one, and when we finish, Père throws me in the lake.
I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was wiping sweat off my brow, the next I was airborne, the world spinning before I hit the water with a spectacular splash.
The cold hits like a freight train, sending a shock through my entire body as I flail momentarily beneath the surface. I break through the water, gasping for air, only to hear Père’s triumphant laughter echoing across the dock.
“How’s that for a workout, kid?” he shouts, leaning casually against a tree, arms crossed, watching me sputter in the water like a drowned rat.
I wipe water from my face, glaring at him. “You son of a—” but the words are cut off by a burst of laughter that I can’t suppress. “You really had to throw me in, huh?”
He laughs, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, you were getting cocky with those muscles of yours. A good dunking never hurt anyone.”
Père stands on the shore, arms crossed, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips as he watches me flounder in the water. The lake's chilly grip around my legs makes it hard to keep my focus, but his teasing makes it worse.
I shoot him a look, splashing the water around me dramatically. “You gonna join me, or just watch me drown?”
