Page 45 of Heat It Up (Off the Ice)
“What guy doesn’t have a crush on her from back then?”
“True enough.” And hence his text about phone sex while watchingStar Wars.
“True or false.” He taps his fingers against the rim of the steering wheel. “You crushed on your high school American History teacher.”
I scrunch my face. “You’ve obviously never met Mr. Winters. He was alive during the American Revolution.”
The corners of Kyle’s mouth twitch up. “I take it he didn’t preserve well.”
Two hours later, as we get closer to our destination, Kyle becomes less talkative and we just listen to a classic rock station. An odd sort of tension grows and I squirm in my seat, thinking back to his reaction when we kissed at Muumu’s.
“I’m sorry,” Kyle says after our conversation has lagged for twenty minutes. I almost jump at the sound of his voice after not hearing it for so long. “I’m just worried about this weekend.”
I turn down the volume on the radio. “Why?”
“’Cause I know how things are when it comes to Nik and his parties. He likes to drink. But off-season. While he’s playing hockey, he knows to draw the line…” Kyle doesn’t say anything else, but I manage to fill in the blanks. He doesn’t know how to draw the line when it comes to alcohol.
“If you want, I can help you out. If you don’t want to drink too much. I’m sure I can find a way to distract you.”
Kyle laughs and my face heats up at how that must have sounded. “I bet you can.” His smile fades and he steers the car into the marina parking lot.
“Nik’s cottage is here?” I ask, looking around. Nothing in the area resembles anything close to what I would call a cottage—other than a small wooden building at the far end of the parking lot. The only other things around are the parked vehicles and boats. And when I say boats, I mean smaller boats, like rowboats, sail boats, motorboats.
“No. His cottage is on an island on the lake. We have to take a boat there.”
“You mean a rowboat?” The voice coming from my mouth doesn’t sound like mine. It squeaks.
“No, a motorboat.” He climbs out of the car.
I scan the dock for Nik, but there’s no sign of him yet. I open my door and join Kyle at the trunk. He grabs the bags from the back.
“What time is Nik meeting us here?” I ask.
“He and his friends are already there.”
“B-but how are we getting there? Is someone dropping us off?”
“No, I rented a boat. Don’t worry,” he adds, taking in my panicked expression. “I know what I’m doing. Plus, Nik gave me a map and showed me how to get there.” He studies me for a second. “Are you afraid of motorboats?”
“Nope, I’m good.” But it tumbles out as a squeak again. At his raised eyebrow, I continue, “When I was eleven, I was in a motorboat with my uncle and cousins. He lost control of it and hit a tree that was in the water. I hit my head and nearly drowned.” I wasn’t wearing my life jacket.
“Was he going fast?”
I nod, again.
“Then I won’t.” He takes hold of my hand. “Will that make you feel better?”
I assume he means the speed and not the holding my hand part, although either way is good. I nod, and he leads me to a store near the dock. He tells the teen we’re here for the boat, and fifteen minutes later we’re ready to go.
“You’ll want to keep off the water once the storm hits,” the seventeen-year-old says in perfect English, reminding me once again that when they handed out language skills, I was taking a nap.
“Storm?” Kyle and I say in unison. I look at the clear sky and frown.
“Yes, there’s a storm rolling in later this evening. You don’t want to be on the water when that happens. The waves can become dangerous. People have died during storms.”
Oh goodie. Just what I needed to know.
“Thanks for the warning.” Kyle squeezes my hand to tell me I’ll be okay. “We’ll be off the water before the storm hits.” While I know it’s true, it doesn’t keep my legs from going rubbery. And they’ll stay that way until we’re safely back on shore.
