Page 43 of The Games We Play

“Thanks, so uh—can we like…go now?” He boops my nose like he has since we were kids, and I shove him back playfully. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as he pulls onto the road.

“Yup,” I say, popping thepand setting my feet on his dash.

We pull up to Ryan’s house where his dad’s truck doors are ajar and the tailgate down, exposing the cooler shoved in the bed. I hesitate, grabbing my bag, lost in thought about what X could be doing right now, and Ryan places a hand on my arm.

“Okay. Look, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do.” I quickly rectify.

“You sure?” he asks.

Before I can respond, Mr. Collins steps outside wearing shorts, sandals, and a fitted T-shirt. A total contrast to his executive bank attire, I’m accustomed to. And when did he get so many…muscles? Seriously, the dude works for a bank, but his T-shirt is hugging every defined line perfectly. Roxy bolts for him, begging for attention.

“Could you not look at my dad like you did those masked creeps? I don’t know which is worse,” Ryan grumbles and pushes off the truck.

“I wasn’t—” I start, but he’s already out of earshot.Was I?

At least pretend that everything is normal and you aren’t getting the best sex of your life, I scold myself.

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Collins looks between me and his son, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Yes,” I say. And climb into the seat behind Ryan, Roxy settling in beside me.

It’s a two-hour drive to the lake and Ryan finally cuts the silence between him and his dad by turning on the radio. The two-story lake house is just as I remember it. White with black trim tucked back at the end of a long narrow road surrounded by towering pines. I step out of the truck, Roxy nearly knocking me down to race to the water, and inhale deeply. The air even smells better out here. I close my eyes and let the sun soak into my skin and warm my sweater and jeans.

“It’s like hitting a reset button, isn’t it?” Mr. Collins asks. I glance over to see him staring out at the lake. Ryan’s dad owns this place now, but it used to be the getaway for the entire Collins family. Ryan’s mom included. I wonder if his dad thinks back to those memories and wishes he had done things differently. Ryan doesn’t talk about his mom and why his parents split—well, why his mom left.

“Yeah,” I respond and offer a warm smile. “It is.”

He rakes a hand through his hair and his shirt rides up over his muscled abdomen. I jerk my head away before I get caught staring and Mr. Collins grabs our bags from the back.

“Last one in, has to sleep in the guest room!” Ryan shouts as he picks up the game we played as kids and takes off running toward the lake, shedding out of his pants and shoes. My inner-child perks up and muscle memory kicks in. I run out of my shoes and race past Ryan as he gets one foot hung up in his shorts.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia!” Mr. Collins shouts,but we don’t care.

My feet thunder across the dock, and I dive into the water. While it’s not freezing, it’s definitely a cold shock to the system. When I break the surface, Ryan is leaping into the air in a cannon ball fashion.

I laugh and am hauling myself back out of the water before he ever breaks the surface, my teeth chattering and body shaking.

“That’s not fair! You’re fully clothed,” Ryan chastises when he treads the surface.

“It’s not my fault you wanted to show off your man-bod.” I drop my foot to the surface and kick the water in his direction. “I get the garden tub,” I shout over my shoulder, wringing the water from my hair as I grab my bags and make my way to my room for the weekend.

***

After cutting the cherrytomatoes, I place them in the bowl full of fresh salad for dinner. Mr. Collins has the grill going out back filled with corn on the cob, steaks, and onion. While Ryan is making a sad attempt at warming up a can of beans.

“You better hope you marry a woman who can cook,” I tease.

“It’s not my fault they’re burning,” he scraps the stuck bits off the bottom of the pan and stirs it in.

“It’s because you have the heat too high. What do you eat when your dad’s away?” I turn the burner down and put the pan into the sink, beans and all.

“Take out,” Ryan shrugs and I shoo him out of the way. He takes a seat on a barstool at the kitchen island.

“You better marry up, is all I’m saying.” I grab a clean pan and open the back-up can of beans. It’s almost like his dad knew this would happen and was prepared.

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