Page 112 of Drop Shot
“Fucking hell,” he mutters lowly when I near. “That bikini outta be fucking illegal, Whim. Just look at you.”
I look down to check if my whole body is as red as I feel, but my skin is still the slightly tanned version it normally is from all the time sitting in the stands in the sun. Even when I practically bathe myself in sunscreen, I still get tan.
“Other people are around,” I whisper.
I settle on the edge of the pool beside where he kicks the water lazily and let my legs drop in the water so I can get used to the temperature.
Beneath the water, his hand finds my calf. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, honestly.” A shiver makes its way up my spine at his touch.
“Not sore?” He massages his thumb into my muscle.
“A l-little,” I stutter. “Tennis is harder than I thought it would be.”
An amused, closed-lipped smile has his mouth rising only on the right corner. That dimple that serves to make him even more devastatingly handsome than usual winks at me and I can’t stop myself as I reach out and poke it.
He tosses his head back with a belly laugh. “Did youpokemy dimple?”
“It’s very pokable,” I defend.
He places his hands on either side of my hips, and I squeal as he rises out of the water, getting me wet as water sloshes up with him.
The joking leaves his eyes, replaced by something serious. I gulp, my heart accelerating.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” he confesses, eyes flicking to my lips. Pool water drips off his chin, landing on my breasts.
Say no, I tell myself. No one’s near enough to have heard what he said. I’m the one that keeps reinforcing this barrier between us and he’s proved time and time again that he’s more than happy to keep crashing into them. But truthfully, I’m so tired of pushing him away, of trying to do the smart thing and protect my heart.
“Are you gonna let me kiss you now?” he asks when I still haven’t said anything.
The word, “Yes,” leaves my mouth before I can overthink it.
He kisses me soft and slow—just a taste of what it could be if I truly gave in to him. I lean in, practically begging him for more. It can’t be possible that there’s someone else on this earth that could possibly kiss me as well as he does. He pulls away with a satisfied smirk.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” The defensive retort slips out as he swims backwards. My skin pebbles with goosebumps at the loss of his warmth.
“Because”—that smile only grows bigger— “that kiss proved something to me.”
“And what’s that?” I retort.
He swims back to me, so we’re not overheard. “You want me as bad I want you.”
His smile only grows when I don’t refute.
“Get in here.” He grabs my hand, and I let him pull me into the water. “You’re scared, though, and I don’t know why,” he says, still holding my hand so I can’t swim away. Noah and Maddie are on the opposite end of the pool now, so we don’t have to worry as much about whispering.
“I’m not scared.” God, I sound way too defensive to my own ears.
“You are.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Why?”
I hate being cornered like this, because I’m not good at keeping secrets. My mom always used to say when I was kid that I always gave myself away when I did something wrong because I could never lie.
I press my lips together, but there’s no hiding their trembling.
“Be honest with me,” he begs. “We have chemistry. There’s no denying that. So, please, tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re doing everythingrightand that’s the problem.”
