Page 38 of Forever Wild
“It’s been a while,” he replies.
“I bet swimming would be good for your knee.”
“Did you get that from your pal Bridget?”
I never should have admitted that I talked with her about him.
“No,” I reply. “It’s just common sense.”
“Oh, you have that, huh?”
“According to my mother, no.”
His brows pull together. “I was kidding. You’re smart. You know that you are.”
I roll my eyes but have to swallow the lump in my throat. Do I know that?
“Does your mom really think that?” Jack asks.
Instead of answering, I get up and step quickly toward the pool, then jump and do a perfect cannon ball.
When I come up, he’s standing at the edge looking down at me. A cannon ball isn’t the sexiest way to get into a pool, but I don’t have to care what Jack thinks because he doesn’t look at me like that.
“Are you coming in or what?” I use my hands to splash water up at him.
Undeterred, he moves to sit and then slides into the water. When he treads water in front of me, it feels intimate in a way I can’t describe. Our legs and chests are close and silently we stare at each other with two feet of distance separating us. My heart rate picks up as I watch a water droplet slide down his temple to his jaw.
“I really want to dunk you right now,” I say. “But I'm afraid I’ll hurt you.”
His mouth pulls into a disbelieving smirk. “As if you could hurt me, Little Sharpie.”
The nickname is like a bucket of ice water over my head. He never calls me that. Ash, Declan, Leo, and some of the other guys have beenusing that endearment for me since I was eighteen, but Jack never has. I can’t explain why it hurts.
It’s not that I think his reasoning for doing it now has any real significance, but it still catches me off guard. I guess it’s just a reminder that to him, and all the other guys, I’ll always just be Tyler’s little sister.
Jack dips his head back into the water and gets his hair wet. When he flings it back, the long strands hang in his eyes. He runs a hand through it to slick it back out of his face.
He misses one strand and I move forward, without thinking, to push it back.
He stiffens under my touch for a second before his cool mask slips back into place. “Thanks.”
“You should let me cut your hair,” I say.
He arches one brow.
“What? I’m good at cutting hair.”
“Uh huh. I’ll bet.”
“I am. I used to?—”
My words are cut off when he moves into my space and pushes my head under the surface of the pool.
My mouth is still open, and I take in a big gulp of water. I’m coughing so I can’t yell at him, but I retaliate by moving forward to attack him back. But he’s ready for me. His hands wrap around my wrists to keep me from getting to him.
“I can’t believe you dunked me,” I say as I squirm and work to free my hands from his tight grip.
He’s strong and I’m no match for him. We wrestle and splash. I’m squealing and laughing, and he’s got one of his rare smiles splashed across his face.
