Page 15 of Quarantine Crush
I shake my head, grinning, and Emy laughs.
“You do not feel bad or you would have admitted your crime.”
“It’s long forgotten,” I protest.
“She brings it up at every family holiday,” Emy argues.
“Right. I’m not going to be the one to ruin her Thanksgiving. We already broke her favorite lamp.”
Emy cracks up, and it feels damn good to be the one making her laugh like that again.
By the time we’re finished, I’m buzzed just enough to feel like all our problems are solved.
“What do you want to do next?” Emy asks as we stroll down the sidewalk past touristy boutiques. The sun is high enough now to reach between the skyscrapers, and I’m suddenly overly warm in my jacket.
A shop window catches my eye, and I turn toward the display with a mischievous grin. “How about that?”
Emy turns to the display and freezes when she sees what it’s advertising. A day pass to Astoria Public Pool, which I’ve only now realized is right around the corner from where we stand.
“You’re kidding, right? I know I said we could do touristy things, but this is a little much.”
“Come on, it’ll be a blast. Just like old times.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Her words are so quiet, almost a whisper, and I have to paste on a smile to pretend I don’t understand her meaning.
“We used to come here all the time when we were kids. It’s hardly a tourist move.”
“We were tourists back then too, genius.”
She’s right. We came here a few times when we left the lake long enough to spend a weekend in the city while our dads held meetings. But I don’t care. I’m desperate to do something that will remind us what it used to be like. When there were no secrets or awkwardness between us–when we were best friends.
“It’s so damn hot out. You can’t tell me a swim doesn’t sound fun.” My lips twitch, and I go for the last tactic I have left that I know will get her to agree. “Unless you’ve lost your edge, Hess. I mean, if you can’t hang anymore, just say so. There’s no shame in being out of shape.”
She growls at that. “You wish, Jacobs. You haven’t beaten me in a race yet, and you’re sure as hell not about to start now, so shut up. I’m in.”
I grin.
Twenty minutes later, we’re both standing in fresh-off-the-discount-rack swimsuits and surveying the pool for a spot empty enough for our shenanigans. It’s not as crowded as it will be in the summer, but today’s freakishly hot weather has brought in a small crowd. And apparently a run on the bathing suit choices. I have no idea what possessed Emy to pick the bikini that barely covers her ass and tits, but it’s not like I can ask her. I’m doing my damndest to pretend like I haven’t even noticed.
But fuck if she doesn’t look entirely too hot in that thing.
“Nice trunks,” she says, and I smirk, completely owning it because why not.
“If you’re jealous, I think they have another pair to match.”
“Nah, I have a feeling that I couldn’t rock rubber duckies quite like you can.”
“You’re funny.”
She grins. “So, where should we do this?”
We both turn to survey the pool.
“There,” I say, pointing to a sliver of space at the pool’s edge. A couple of moms are yelling at their kids from the lounge chairs nearby, but it’ll do.
“Ten bucks says I’ll kick your ass again.” Emy marches off before I can answer.
