Page 75 of Pumped

“Shh.” Everest’s lips cover mine and only then do I realize that I’m the one who’s been babbling incoherently.

A sob escapes me. It’s too much. It’s not enough. I never wanted to fall in love with Everest. I never wanted to bare my soul to him and have him embrace me wholeheartedly. I never wanted to be this vulnerable, this raw, this exposed. But now that I’m here, now that I’ve come this far, I don’t want to go back. I want more. More of this. More of him. More of us.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

EVEREST

“Again! Again!” Ivy doggie paddles toward me, eyes bright and smiling a mile wide.

The grandparents have taken off to a country club for the afternoon—Alyssa and Mom for facials and Mark and Dad for a round of golf—which leaves me and Ivy and Owen in his parents’ house by ourselves. Ivy couldn’t get into the pool fast enough.

I grab her around the waist and hoist her up. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

“One! Two! Three!” I toss her into the air and she lands in the water a few feet away with a giant splash.

She comes up laughing with her whole body, the sound ringing through the air. Up on the deck, Owen’s stretched out on a lounge chair in the shade. He’s swapped out his typical slacks for a pair of slim-fitting shorts that hit a couple inches above the knee and he’s gone full casual by leaving his button-up shirt untucked. He’s even rolled up the sleeves of the shirt, revealing the dark hairs that cover his forearms.

With a pair of aviator sunglasses covering his eyes and his iPad in hand, he looks like he’s ignoring us, like he’s engrossed inwhatever journal thing he’s reading. But I know better. I notice the tiny shift of his chin, the minute twitch of his brows, the small smile that graces his lips. He’s watching us, alright. He’s definitely watching us.

My heart does a little flutter in my chest and I dive under the water to scoop Ivy up from below. She squeals as I launch her into the air again.

I’ve done a lot of really cool things in my life. I’ve gone to some really awesome places and met the most amazing people. But I’ve never—never—felt anything close to this before.

It’s like I’m high on happiness. Vibrating out of my skin with joy. The sky looks bluer than I’ve ever seen it. The grass smells fresher too. I feel like I could move a freaking mountain. I feel like I could run an Iron Man.

Is this what everyone feels when they’re in love? If it is, I don’t know why I don’t see more dopey people walking around. The world is suddenly more vibrant and alive. Anything—everything—seems not only possible, but actually easy. Shit, maybe I should’ve tried this love thing years ago.

“Again, Uncle Ev!” Ivy swims back to me and I fake a groan.

“Again?! But I’m tired!” I lean back, spreading out like a starfish to float on the water.

“Please! Please, please, please!” Ivy tries to climb on top of me like I’m an inflatable pool float and I immediately start sinking. With a squawk, I grab ahold of her and right myself again.

On the deck, Owen’s act slips a bit. His iPad is lying flat on his lap and there’s a wrinkle in his forehead like he’s worried about us drowning.

I hug Ivy close to me and pretend to whisper into her ear, but I pitch my voice just loud enough for it to carry to Owen. “Hey, Ivy-bear, you know what? I bet Uncle Owen could throw yousuperfar!”

Owen’s head tilts just a little bit, like he’s rolling his eyes.

“Can he?” Ivy shrieks, pushing off me with her feet like I’m the pool wall and swimming in Owen’s direction. “Uncle O! Can you throw me? Pleeeaaase?!” She kneels on the steps at the shallow end and points her deadly pout and puppy eyes at him.

I add my own pouty puppy dog eyes to see if it’ll help Ivy’s cause. Hell, who am I kidding? I’ve got completely selfish motives. I want Owen half-naked and in the water with me. I want to see his hair wet and slicked back, sun reflecting off his glistening skin.

Owen's lips flatten into a firm line, but not because he’s angry—he’s trying to fight off a smile.

“Pleeeaaase?” Ivy pleads again, splashing the water with her hands.

“Yeah, pleeeaaase?”

Owen crosses his arms over his chest, pulling the fabric of his shirt taut across his shoulders. Above his sunglasses, his brow furrows.

“Come swim with us, Uncle O!” Ivy slaps the water to emphasize her point.

“I’m not dressed for the pool,” Owen says in his signature dry tone while shaking his head. But there’s something in his voice, in the way he’s holding himself, that’s just begging to be dragged kicking and screaming into the water.

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