Page 75 of Cocky Prince
“Nothing.”
“Quit being modest,” Zach says from the rear. “It means, Hayden, that because your boy is a rich son of a bitch and everyone knows his father, he can go wherever he wants.”
“That’s not true,” I counter. “The Hyatt hates it when I dock at their north shore property.”
Zach laughs. “That’s because you crashed into their party yacht the summer after senior year.”
“It was a slight nudge,” I say, irritably. “And the driver of the other boat was high.”
Nessa props her tiny legs over Zach’s meaty thighs and points her face toward the sun. Zach absently places a hand on her thigh. “Rumor is,” he continues, ignoring my glare, “the guy at the Hyatt saidyouwere drunk.”
I shake my head at Hayden. “I don’t drink and boat.”
She glances at the cooler Tyler is sifting through. “Never?”
“Well—Iprovide it—but no, I never drink when I’m driving the boat. My brothers and I had the fear of God put in us when we were learning water safety.” I chuckle. “We were taught by a Club Tahoe groundskeeper who was an ex-Navy SEAL. He put us through boot-camp torture before allowing us to operate anything on the water. Hunt is the most fanatical about boat safety, but the rest of us are as well.”
Hayden stares out at the water and smiles at a passing paddleboarder, her hands crossed in her lap. She looks relaxed and happy.
“We’ll have to take the boat out sometime without the rest of the gang,” I say in a low voice. She looks over. “Not that I want to change our normal setting, because I like your place.”
We’ve never stayed at my house on the lake, and I don’t miss it. But I miss the boat.
“I’d like that,” she says, and my chest fills with warmth. I’m on the lake with my girl, and I’ve never been happier than at this moment.
* * *
Hayden
Mira, Nessa, and I sip canned margaritas Tyler was kind enough to bring along with the beers as we bob lightly on the anchored boat inside Emerald Bay, the sun beating down on us. The guys have taken off their shirts and it’s a pretty, pretty view inside Adam’s boat.
Adam has one foot propped on the cooler, and he’s smiling at me. How am I going to talk to him about Blue while he’s looking at me like that? This relationship we’re building is different. It’s special, and I don’t want anything to come between us.
His smile slowly drops, as though he senses my thoughts. He leans forward and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the sound of splashing draws our attention.
Nessa reaches over the edge of the boat and splashes Zach. He’s already wet, so she must have gotten him a second ago too. They moved to the seats that face a small deck off the back of the boat, and the water is right at their feet.
Zach shakes his head like a dog, spraying water at her, and she laughs.
Nessa looks over, grinning. “Let’s get in the water. What do you guys say?”
“You don’t have your swimsuit,” Zach points out.
“I have on sturdy underwear.”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t own sturdy underwear—not that I’m complaining.” He grins devilishly.
“I have on my new boy-cut undies. They’re like a normal bathing suit, only cotton.”
He quirks his brow. “I’m game.” He glances at Adam and Tyler. “You guys in?”
Tyler answers by standing and stretching his arms. He steps up onto the side of the boat and dives overboard.
“Guess we’re going too.” Mira starts blowing up a floatie the size of a Frisbee.
“What is that?” I say.
She closes off the end and inserts her can of margarita in the center. “Floatable beer cozy.”
