Page 122 of Carrick
“Language, Carrick,” she said sweetly, already backpedaling with a grin that could’ve gotten her killed in a war zone. “There are impressionable minds present.”
“Technically,” Jax called from across the water, “the human brain continues forming into the mid-twenties, but my prefrontal cortex is?—”
“Shut up, Jax,” Niko and Maddy shouted in unison from the shore, where she had gone to join him.
Bellamy was still laughing when I reached her.
This time, I didn’t hesitate.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and yanked her up and off her feet, then under the water with me, catching the gasp just before she went below. When we resurfaced together, I was already grinning—and she was already shoving me.
“You’re such a child.”
“I’m selective about who I play with.”
She arched a brow. “So I should feel honored?”
“Deeply.”
Her smirk was all sharp edges and heat.
“You always this cocky?” she asked, treading close now, her chest nearly brushing mine.
“Only when I know I’m losing control.”
She blinked once—and the air between us shifted. The laughter didn’t vanish, but it settled into something quieter, deeper, like the undercurrent had changed direction. She was close enough now that I could feel her breath brush my cheek, her hand grazing my shoulder as she adjusted her balance but didn’t move away. Beneath the water, her thigh pressed lightly against mine—barely there, but enough to undo me.
My hand found the small of her back, resting under the water like it belonged there. Her eyes dropped to my mouth—just for a breath—then rose to meet mine again. We didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The world narrowed to that single beat between us, broken only by Maddy splashing after Sully, Jax muttering something about amoebas, and cicadas humming from the trees beyond.
It would’ve been easy to kiss her. God, it would’ve been so easy.
But she smiled instead—slow, wicked—and dipped backward without a word, slipping beneath the surface before I couldreact. When she popped up ten feet away, grinning like she’d just won a bet with the universe, she flipped me off.
I laughed, caught off guard, already chasing after her.
“She’s a savage,” Sully said from the shoreline, settling onto a fallen log like he was watching a romantic comedy unfold in real time.
“She’s mine,” I muttered—low, almost accidental.
But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t a joke. They weren’t casual. They were a truth I’d been circling since the night she walked through our door, shaking but defiant. Since she let me see the cracks beneath her armor. Since she fell asleep in my arms and didn’t flinch the next morning.
I didn’t just want her body. I wanted the fire in her chest, the steel in her spine, the softness she tried to hide but couldn’t help offering when she looked at me like that—like she already knew I’d follow. And I would. Every time.
The pond quieted as night deepened. One by one, the others peeled away—Maddy first, towel-wrapped and smirking as she disappeared with Niko. Sully made a crack about Pop-Tarts and damp denim before heading out behind them. Even Jax slipped off, towel over his head, mumbling about heat loss and fabric weight.
Bellamy and I stayed.
We didn’t say a word. Didn’t exchange a glance. We just... remained. Floating shoulder to shoulder in the hush, arms brushing occasionally with the gentle pull of the water. The moon hung heavy above us, its reflection fractured across the surface like silver glass. The woods curled close, tall and still, making the pond feel like a world set apart.
I looked at her. She was staring skyward, arms gliding slowly to keep herself afloat. Her hair slicked back, face bare and quiet in the moonlight. No armor. No mask. Just Bellamy—serene,but not at ease. Like even now, even here, peace was something she still had to earn.
“You’re quiet,” I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t startle the silence away.
“I’m thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
“Funny,” she murmured, not missing a beat. “That’s exactly what I was thinking about you.”
