Page 37 of When We Were Reckless
Her Jet Ski flipped over, tossing her into the water, the kill switch bringing the Jet Ski to a stop a few feet away from her.
“Jesus Christ. Quinn!” Mason yelled. But his voice got lost in the wind, and it was already too late.
I shoved the bottle of sunscreen into Tasha’s hand and dove off the starboard, swimming toward Quinn in long strokes.
She was floating on her back when I reached her side, buoyed up by the life vest.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and pushed the hair off her face with my other hand, my legs treading water to keep us afloat. “Are you okay?”
Before she could answer, she started coughing. “I’m good. Just a little…”
“Shaken up?”
She nodded. “I’m usually a better driver… I don’t know what happened.”
I wouldn’t call her a good driver by any stretch of the imagination, but I kept that to myself. “That wasn’t your fault. Those guys were assholes.”
Declan turned in a wide arc and came back to check on Quinn. “Shit. You okay, Bean?”
“No thanks to you.”
“I thought you knew how to drive a Jet Ski,” he scoffed.
She glared at him. “I was doing just fine until you decided to mess with those two guys.”
It was a stupid-ass thing to do, but we’d all done stupid shit like that. The difference was that Declan knew how to handle a Jet Ski better than his sister.
“You should have been looking out for her,” Mason yelled. “What the fuck, Declan?”
He held up his middle finger then focused on me. “You good to deal with her?”
“Nobody has todealwith me,” Quinn said, pulling out of my grasp and swimming toward the Jet Ski.
“I’ve got this,” I told him.
“Cool,” he said before he took off.
I swam around to the back of the Jet Ski and read the instructions on the sticker. Clockwise.
“I can do it,” Quinn said, swimming around to the right side with me.
“I’ve got it. Stand back.”
She rolled her eyes but gave me some space. I reached up on the hull and grabbed the intake grate, pushing down on the rail with my feet and rocking the Jet Ski back and forth until it flipped right side up again.
“You wanna drive that back to the boat ramp for me?” Mason yelled.
I gave him a thumbs-up and turned to Quinn to get the lanyard from her. “I’m driving,” she said, trying to pull herself up and onto the Jet Ski. From the water, it took a lot of upper body strength.
“You can ride with me,” I told her.
“Fuck that.”
My brows shot up. “Is it another special occasion?”
“No. It’s just being around you. You bring out the best in me.”
Quinn was so fucking cute with such a determined look on her face that it made me laugh. She glared at me, which only made me laugh harder. Still cute. Not the least bit threatening. Normally, I would help Quinn, but I was enjoying the show too much to lift a finger.
