Page 35 of When We Were Reckless
Holden nodded. “Right. Glad you’re having fun.”
“Yep. It’s been a fun summer so far. Lots and lots of fun.”
Jesse turned to face me, and I gave him a big smile he didn't return.
“How’s your summer going, Jesse?” I asked, my smile still firmly in place. I repositioned myself, so I was sitting the way he had been, my arms stretched out across the back of the booth, cool and casual as you like.
So what if I was wearing a one-piece? I’d own it. Make it my bitch. I wasn’t going to let him undermine my confidence. “Are you having fun?”
He unscrewed the lid of his water bottle and drank before answering. It was a power play. He wanted to keep me hanging. Make me sweat it out. I stared at his throat as it bobbed on a swallow and dug my nails into the plush vinyl.
Even his throat was sexy. God. I hated him for making me feel this way. My fingers itched to touch his skin. To feel his taut muscles under my fingertips. To run them through his messy hair and trace his squared jawline.
I wanted to feel those lips on mine. I wanted to feel those lips on every inch of my skin. Biting, sucking, teasing, tasting.
He lowered the bottle and raked his eyes over my face, dragging his gaze down my body. It felt like he was stripping me bare, just with his eyes. My cheeks flushed with heat, and not even the breeze off the water could cool my overheated skin.
But I held his gaze, faking a confidence I didn’t feel as he flattened his palms on the table in front of me and leaned in close, his voice low, so his words were for my ears only.
“I don’t fucking like being lied to,babysister.”
I stared into his baby blues. They looked darker. Angrier. Like the sea being churned up during a storm. I was so mesmerized by his eyes that it took a moment for his words to register. “Baby sister? Don’t call me that,” I hissed. “And what are you talking about?”
He laughed harshly and shook his head as he straightened up to his full height, legs slightly spread, eyes hooded. I opened my mouth to speak, to protest his words, but he turned and walked away before I got a chance to say a word.
Just then, two of Declan’s friends headed toward us on the Jet Skis, and Holden cut the motor so they could pull up next to the pontoon. That was why Jesse had moved to the back of the boat. He had seen them coming.
I jumped up from my seat, ready to snag one of the keys. Too late. Jesse had already claimed them and tossed one to Mason.
“I’m going to beat your ass,” Mason said.
“Good luck with that,” Jesse said with a laugh. So cocky. Such an arrogant asshole.
So why couldn’t I stop staring at him? I watched the muscles in his arms flex as he fastened his life vest, and then he climbed onto the Jet Ski and put the key in the ignition, ready to take off.
Tasha and Carly scurried to the back deck where the Jet Skis were parked alongside, and Tasha called to Jesse, “Can we ride on the back?”
“We’re going to race. It’s not safe with a passenger.”
Tasha’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Internally, I cheered that he’d dismissed her. But really, what did it matter? Just because he’d shot her down didn’t mean he wanted me.
Why had he been so angry? And what was he talking about? I’ve never lied to him. Unlike him, I’ve always been honest.
“Jesse’s gonna leave Mason in the dust,” Holden said with a laugh.
“I don’t know about that. I think Mason has a good shot at winning.”
Holden snorted. “We haven’t beaten Jesse at any motorsport since we were thirteen.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Jesse’s not the guy he used to be.” Talk about an understatement. “My money’s on Mason.”
While Tasha and Carly raided the fridge for beer and flirted with Holden, I moved to the sofas in the front and caught some sun, my eyes on the Jet Skis. Jesse rode standing, just like he did on a bike. I watched him jump a wake, flying up into the air before landing vertically, and then he was racing across the lake like a madman, and I lost sight of him.
I really, really wanted Mason to win.
Unfortunately, none of my wishes were coming true this summer.
Chapter Thirteen
