Page 59 of Show Me How
Shade presses his fingers into my lower back and guides us away from the beach. We pass the small library that looks eerily similar to a two-storey birdhouse with a glass door on our way to the dock. I’ve wanted to sit on the dock since the first day I spotted it. There was a natural pull that I ignored at first.
I’m happy to be visiting it today.
“We used to compete over who could jump off the dock and hold their breath under the water the longest,” he says, walking closely beside me.
“Who is ‘we’?”
“Me, the Whittman twins, Rowe, Lacey. Pretty much all of us. Back then, it didn’t matter what grade you were in or who your family was, we all hung out together. Especially in the summers. This place was all we had to entertain ourselves, so we made the most of it,” he explains, turning to look behind us. “There used to be an ice cream shack between those trees there that would sell single scoops for fifty cents and a high five. I spent all of my chore money there for the four years it was running.”
The yearning that explodes in my chest makes it hard to speak. “What happened to it?”
“The owner passed away. Shelly tried to get it up and running on her own, but they couldn’t make it work without extra help.”
“And there wasn’t any,” I finish for him.
“Bingo. It’s the Oak Point special. But it’s your turn now. Tell me about something you enjoyed when you were a tiny princess.”
We reach the end of the dock, and I let loose a soft sigh before lowering myself onto the wood planks. I hang my legs off the edge and stare down at the dark, clear water. The weeds are low, well clipped to avoid reaching the surface. I’d bet it looks colder than it really is, even with it being mountain water.
Looking up, I watch Shade as he stares out at the lake, his smile lazy and relaxed. When he notices me watching him, he lowers his eyes and winks before joining me. Sitting closer than he needs to on this wide dock, he hangs his legs beside mine and leans back on his hands. I shove off a shiver when he adjusts his arms and strokes a finger along the lowest section of my back.
Thinking back to his question, I focus on finding an answer instead of the way I’m tempted to swing myself over onto hislap right here, right now. The last few days have wreaked havoc on my nervous system, and the only person I have to blame is myself.
After our kissing lesson, if you can even call it that, I haven’t been able to stop growing aroused anytime I think of Shade or so much as catch a glimpse of him. It’s downright annoying now, and I’ve been so frustrated with my inability to make myself come that I’ve been taking it out on him. It’s much easier to ignore the guy at work than it is to find the courage to demand we work on the next lesson I gave him.
Not to mention, he hasn’t even told me what he’d written on his list. It’s like he’s trying to make me explode.
“I didn’t have many friends like that growing up. The ones I did have were only around because our parents knew each other. But I did use to have fun when we’d go on the boat in the summer. I like wake surfing,” I say, fighting back the clog in my throat.
His brow is high when he looks at me. “You wake surf?”
“I’m starting to take offense to all of these questions.”
“I just can’t picture you doing it. It’s not that I don’t believe you.”
“Well, believe it. It was one of the only sporty activities my father would indulge me in growing up. Not that I wanted to play sports, but it was fun. Wearing a bikini while getting misted with water and a cool breeze on a hot day was better than tanning in silence.”
Shade shifts, leaning forward slightly. “You came here in the wrong season, Mills. I’d have loved to see you like that.”
“Mills?”
“Princess,” he corrects himself, smirking.
I ignore that. “I doubt you’d have noticed me if we’d stumbled upon each other on the lake.”
“Wanna bet?”
“In case you forgot, I’m dirt broke right now. I’ve got nothing to bet with, so I’ll pass this time.”
“Money is the most boring thing to bet with. Be creative,” he drawls.
Turning my head, I meet his waiting gaze. The cool temperature spikes at the intensity in his eyes. I swallow as quietly as possible, but he notices.
“My luck is terrible,” I say, my voice quiet.
“I’d usually say the same, but it’s hard to feel that way right now.”
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “You’re a flirt.”
