Page 9 of Aim for Love

Looking back at him, I smile. “I can do this.”

“Great. Keep at it,” he tells me. “And later when you jump in, you can do it on your terms.”

Laughing too loudly out of relief, my heart rate slowly settles back to a normal speed. Now I can appreciate the gorgeous setting we’re in, a lake surrounded by slopes of evergreen that go vertical, leaping out of the ground to attack the sky in mountain shape. We’re only a few miles from town, and still it feels like we’re deep in nature. The cold water is still, the sky is blue. A postcard couldn’t be more beautiful.

Sticking close to shore, I paddle around like that for a while, watching as everyone else disappears. Nora and Sophie areracing each other across the lake. The three guys around our age start chasing them, coming from far across the water. Everyone is going much faster and farther than me.

I sort of want to try to stand up again, but I’m worried it will be another disaster.

Hunter keeps circling back to check on me. I watch him glide across the water toward the island in the center of the lake, stop to talk to the family resting on their boards as they float on the surface, then head back my way.

My eyes fill with tears of self-pity. Hunter’s so patient to babysit me. He must hate it. How could he not?

He stops paddling once he’s close enough to talk to me. He doesn’t say anything. He puts his paddle across the front of his board and sits down astride it, legs hanging in the water on either side. We sit, drifting on the mild waves, Hunter watching what we can see of the rest of the group and me watching Hunter. I can’t help it. The man is shirtless and his muscles are like a movie star’s. Except, I bet he comes by them naturally, not from a gym.

“Aren’t you going to burn?” I blurt out, my brain apparently stunned by the sheer expanse of bare skin.

Hunter looks over his shoulder at me. He grins. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m doing OK. But you know, maybe to be safe…” And then he slips over the side of his board into the water.

Hunter and I could almost be alone here, with everyone else far across the lake. We’ve drifted from shore a little to where it’s deep enough that Hunter probably can’t touch the bottom. His head rises back above the surface. He holds onto his board while he throws his head back and runs his hand over his hair like a wet dream.

Am I actually asleep right now? What would a bolder, dream-Mollie do?

“Don’t give me ideas,” I try, experimentally flirting. My cheeks immediately feel hot, but maybe that’s the sun.

Hunter looks up at me, smiling. “I’m trying. Really pulling out all the stops here, Mollie.”

My heart flutters a little.Is he flirting back?“Why?”

“I want you to have fun on this trip.”

“I’m having fun,” I protest. I watch the muscles in his shoulders flex as he keeps his hold on the board, floating off the side. Don’t get this view in the city much.

“Are you?” he challenges me. “Would anything make thismorefun?”

Being better at this would be more fun. I don’t want to say that, because it might make Hunter encourage me to try again. While trying to think about it, I wipe the sweat off the top of my lip. I dip my other hand in the cool water.

“It’s nice in here,” he coaxes.

I pull off my shirt, exposing my shoulders and bikini-clad breasts to the sun, and slide into the water. I don’t go all the way under, holding tight to my board so I don’t lose it.

Hunter splashes me gently. “There you go. Living in the moment. Making memories. How’s that feel?”

I splash him back. “Shut up. You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

“I’m not babysitting you. I’m having fun, too.”

I’m skeptical and give him a look that says so.

“Why do you think it’s so hard to be here with you?” Hunter raises one arm and gestures around us. “Look at this. It’s great, isn’t it?”

Looking around, I take in the scene. The gentle lap of the water against the board under my arm. The green trees lining the shore. The sun beating down from a cloudless blue sky. This man, insisting he’s enjoying himself. And having nothing better to do with my time. “OK, you have a point.”

He laughs. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve always been a worrier.” I’m embarrassed to admit this to someone like him, someone who seems to live his life to the absolute fullest.

“Better than never planning for what could go wrong.”

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