Page 128 of Sharkbait
“A bit, yeah,” James says. “But I thought this one would be a good fit for your first time. You don’t have to go alone, and the fact there’s a raft involved means there is far less potential for a wedgie occurrence.”
I look down, where the slide deposits a set of squealing kids into the pool below. “If a wedgie is the worst thing that happens, I’ll be fine.”
James scoffs, “Spoken like someone who’s never had a wedgie.”
Oh my God, we’re next.
The ride attendant sets our raft in the launching station and gestures for us to climb aboard.
James gets in the back and opens his legs wide so I can sit between them.
I settle in front of him and grip the rubber handles while jets of water pour down the tube in front of us.
“Wedgies,” I say, suddenly out of breath. “What a weird way to bully someone, right? Like ’hey come here, kid. I’m going to yank your underwear between your butt cheeks until you scream. I mean, how did this practice even begin? And do people even attempt wedgies anymore? These days, wouldn’t a wedgie constitute assault?”
“There’s no turning back now,” James says and wraps his arms around me. “Lean back. I’ve got you.”
I sink into his hold and keep my eyes wide open as James gives us a gentle push and sends us zooming down the slide, water splashing all around us.
Chapter Thirty-Two
James
We’ve been unofficially living together for three weeks.
Going to sleep beside her every night and waking up to her each morning has me feeling like I’m living in a dream. A heart-bursting, mind-blowing, sex-filled dream.
There’s an ease between us now that I never would have predicted when we first connected all those months ago. Back when she requested—no, demanded—that we be a one-and-done.
I’m so damn grateful she changed her mind.
She’s slowly getting to know Iris too. A few times when I’ve been doing my late-night phone call to Hawaii to “tuck Iris in,” she’s joined us. She’s even come aboard our Marla the Mermaid writing project. After helping us with some sea facts and terminology one night, Iris gave her the title of “Marine Biology Consultant” and insisted that we put her name in the acknowledgments when we finished.
Internally, I’m freaking out that I have to give this all up in seven weeks.
Outwardly, I’m doing my damnedest to keep up the “friends who fling” façade.
But it’s getting harder by the day.
Because I’m falling for this woman. Fast.
And those feelings show no signs of dissipating any time soon.
Or ever, if I’m being honest with myself.
I’m walking through the parking lot of the Philadelphia Zoo when I spot her sliding through a side exit to come greet me. As a key player in making this event happen tonight, she arrived hours ago to get things set up and then got ready on-site.
The vision of her literally takes my breath away.
She’s wearing a formfitting blue sequined strapless dress that hugs her around the knees and sports a daring slit up the back.
“Don’t you clean up nice?” she says and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Woman, I want way more than a kiss on the cheek right now. You look fucking incredible.”
“Yeah? The lighting in the staff bathroom wasn’t the best. I’m calling it Sequined Mermaid Chic.” She spins.
I look her up and down and break out in applause.
