Page 42 of Tell Me You Love Me

“I’m sorry we ruined your plans today.” I drag my hat lower over my eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun. Or, at least, that’s my excuse. “It wasn’t intentional, I promise.”

“It’s fine.” It’s clearlynotfine, but she’s had a lifetime of saying things are okay when they’re not. Her mother practically branded the words on her tongue.

Frustrated, she stalks across and grabs the tube she was working on, and moving a full ten feet away, she shakily spins, spins, spins the rubber in search of the air hole. “We’ll stay for twenty minutes so Franky can play with Chris. Then we’ll get out of your way.”

I pick up the plastic bag she dropped and poke through its contents in silence. I pull Franky’s shirt out so it doesn’t get wet from the condensation of her drink, then the sunscreen tube—not closed—before it makes a mess. “I’m gonna put your drink in our cooler, okay?” I don’t wait for her approval… it’s not like she’d give it anyway. I kick the lid open and set her drink in with the ice, then I shut the box again and set the end of the bag beneath so it doesn’t whip away in the wind.

That is, if there was any.

There isn’t.

“Want me to blow that up for you?” I keep my movements slow. My hands by my sides instead of, well, on her body. Or more likely, circling her delicate neck, since that Watkins blood still sprints through my veins.

I wouldn’t actually hurt her, not like my daddy used to hurt my mom and everyone else he could reach. But that doesn’t stop the desire from simmering just below the surface of my thoughts.

I grab the pathetic inflatable and tug until the mouthpiece pops from her lips. “You look like you might pass out if you keep going.”

It’s not like I’m twelve anymore, drinking soda from her can just so I can pretend that pressing my lips to the same spot is basically as good as kissing. But I’ll be damned if my heart doesn’t beat a little faster when I take the mouthpiece between my lips.

“You’re still as pushy as always.” She folds her arms, hiding her succulent body from my gaze and cocking her hip. It’s the best defense she’s gotwhile standing out here half-naked and showing off a stamp on her back that makes her mine.

Mine.

“You just do whatever you’re gonna do, no matter what it is I want to do.”

Sure. That’s why you left town without so much as a fuckin’ Dear John letter.But I’m trying to make nice, so I smile around the rubber stopper and inflate the very same tube she and I floated on back in the day.

A poor kid who never had much of anything knows a bright yellow and green inflatable toy when he sees it.

“You don’t really have to blow that up,” she mumbles defiantly. “We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

“You’re not leaving.” I jam my thumb against the stopper to keep the air inside, and refilling my lungs, I look to the trio in the water. Two of them are playing. The third casts daggers this way.

Eliza Darling will protect her flock to the death.

“He’s having fun. And Ollie’s on his way, too. He’s bringing a grill so we can cook up some lunch.” I look down at the wet valve andknowI haven’t changed all that much since high school. Because now her spit and mine are mixed, and my brain can’t help but obsess about it. “He makes a mean margarita. Kind of a girly drink, I know. But tequila is so much fuckin’ fun, and we’re all secure enough in our masculinity not to care that our drinks have umbrellas in them.”

“Alcohol, swimming at the lake, and ultimately, driving home. Sounds like a tragedy waiting to happen.”

“Nah.” I wrap my lips around the valve and empty my lungs into the tube. “Wealwayshave a designated driver, and it’s not like we’re out here getting smashed the ol’ Watkins way. Two drinks. Three, maybe.” I inhale as deeply as I can, then exhale into the tube, blowing until my head swims and my toes tingle. “Just enough to have fun. Dance a little. Think we can sing. No one ever drinks so much that they’re falling over, and in all these years, we’ve never had an argument among us. Not the real kind, fueled by alcohol and bred by the asshole who came before us.”

I push the stopper into the valve and seal all that love-and-war oxygen inside the tube, forcing it to co-mingle.There will be no escape.Then I present my achievement with a smile. “Eliza’s been our sober one the last five years, since she was old enough to drive but not old enough to drink. Now she’s twenty-two, so we take turns between all of us.”

“She seems…” She casts her gaze toward the lake to find what I know is waiting for her. “Homicidal.”

“She’s a sweetheart, usually. She’s the baby of the group, so it’s typically us throwing shade her way ‘cos she invited some dude to our party and thinks it’s cool to mack on him. Ya know, like,” I wrinkle my nose, “with her tongue. There’s no one in Plainview stupid enough or brave enough to volunteer, so she usually finds them in the next town over or whatever. She’s pissy this week, that’s all. But she’ll cool off soon and go back to her normal annoying self.”

“Pissy… at me?” She drags her lips between her teeth, flashing two deep dimples in her cheeks. “It’s not so difficult to see she has a crush on you. I figure she wants to hurt me for breaking your heart.”

“A crush? Romantically?” I laugh. “No. That would be like saying you had a crush on Chris back in high school. You were close, and there was love. There was friendship, even outside of me. But it wasn’t romantic like that.”

A weak, rogue breeze flitters around the tree and moves through her hair, so she combs her fingers through the locks and tucks them back. Which reminds her of the sunglasses atop her head. Pleased, she tears them down and slides them onto her face, robbing me of her eyes.

Robbing me of that window into what she’s truly thinking.

“Kinda looks like she has a crush from where I’m standing.” She accepts the tube and hugs it to her chest, shielding her body and using the broad circle to keep me away. “And she was pretty cozy with you at the gym. Lots of hugging and all that.”

“If I were a less bitter man, I’d wonder if you were jealous.”

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