Page 89 of The One
While she stomped her way over to the center console, like a child, I waited until the water around us was clear, and then I went to each of the cleats that faced the dock and untied the lines. With nothing holding us in place, I took a seat next to Penelope, and with the engines already running, I used the bow thruster to propel us away from the dock until I was satisfied with the clearance. I then put the boat in gear and maintained a speed that let off minimal wake as I made my way out of the marina.
When I bore down on the throttle, the engines revved, showing off their horsepower, and Penelope’s hair began to fly, the pieces hitting my arms, her laughter blasting in my ears.
“Faster!”
I ignored her.
“Faster, Rhett!”
I still paid zero attention to what she was saying. This was my territory, not hers, and I didn’t take orders on the boat.
But when she shook my arm and asked, “Why is this the first time I’ve been on your boat?” she put me in a position where I had to reply.
This was a place where I came to chill. Where I came to get away. Penelope brought the loudness and drama, and I wanted relaxation and quietness.
That was why I never told Lainey to bring her sister.
But I couldn’t say that to Penelope.
“Rhett! Answer me!”
Jesus Christ.
“What do you want to know, Penelope?” I asked, hoping the drugs would make her forget her question.
“Why haven’t you ever taken me boating? This is so fun!”
“Lainey’s only been a handful of times.”
“So?”
I steered us into the open channel. “I don’t know … when I take her boating, we want to be alone.”
“Fuck being alone. You need to start bringing me. I love this.” She wrapped her arm around the top of the seat, her fingers on my back, and she put her bare feet on the dash, head tilted toward the sun. “Yep, this is paradise. And this is how I want to spend mywholesummer with you and Lainey. Call me queen of the third wheel.” She pulled down her glasses, looking at me over the rim, giving me a wink. “And you’re one hot-ass captain.”
She reached for the button for the music and cranked it up.
Within no time, she was dancing in the seat.
Not me. I was focused on the depth and how the boat was riding the plane, the very surface of the water, and how the chop was so mild that there was no reason to throttle back.
I tried to tune her out, but every time she shifted her hips, I swore she moved closer and somehow found a way to touch a part of me, whether it was my chest or hip or shoulder.
“Dance with me, lover boy.”
I held the helm with my right hand, the same side she sat on, and kept my arm outstretched. I was using that arm like a shield,hoping it would block her, even though it didn’t seem to since she was somehow still touching my chest.
“I’m driving the boat, Penelope.”
“If you stand up, you can dance.”
“No, I can’t.”
Which was a lie. I could dance while I was sitting, and I could dance if I was standing, and in either position, I could drive the boat. But I wasn’t going to accept her invitation because giving that girl an inch was the last thing I needed to do.
“Rhett,” she whined, “dance with me.”
In the two years that my father had owned this boat, I’d never wished he’d gotten a bowrider—a style that had a lot more seating—until now. I would do anything for Penelope to be sitting in the bow, far from me, where she couldn’t touch me whenever she fucking wanted.
