Page 109 of Story of My Life
“Fine. I think. Definitely wet. Was that apig?”
“You talking about my brother or Rump Roast? Both just kinda go wherever they want.”
She spit out a mouthful of lake water. “This town isridiculous.”
A hand appeared from above, and I pushed Hazel toward it.
Levi hauled her back onto the dock and then took his sweet time reaching down for me.
I flopped onto the wooden planks like an overweight catfish and stared up at the starry night sky. Rump Roast nudged me with his snout and then tromped off toward the parking lot.
“Never figured you for boat theft,” Levi said to Hazel as she wrung the water out of her hair.
“I swear it wasn’t my idea,” she said.
“How’d you know I took her out?” I asked.
“AirTag,” Levi said, holding up his phone. “Put it on there after Gage stole it to impress that redhead from Long Island last summer.”
Hazel whipped around, sending water droplets everywhere. “You stole your date idea from your brother?”
“He stole it from me,” I insisted. “I took Dad’s boat out in high school to impress a girl.”
“Nina?” she asked.
“How do you know Nina?”
Levi looked back and forth between us. “You two dating?”
“God, no!” Hazel said hastily, like it was the worst thing in the world to be accused of. “I mean, notdatingdating. It was for research. Although Nina thinks we’re dating. Did Laura tell you that?” she asked me.
“What—how—why?” I sputtered.
“So about you stealing my boat,” Levi said.
“The boat’s fine. You can yell at me later,” I told him before turning to Hazel. “I’ll take you home.”
“Sure you don’t want me to take you home? He just pushed you in the lake,” my asshole brother pointed out.
“Fuck off, Livvy,” I muttered as I dragged Hazel toward the parking lot.
Back in the truck, I grabbed my dress shirt from the back seat and tossed it to her. “Here. It’s dry.”
If I’d expected shyness, I was sorely mistaken. Hazel took the shirt and immediately wriggled out of her dress-romper thing. Leaving her in nothing but a black lace bra and underwear.
Fuck.
And then she was putting my shirt on over top and trying to button it with cold fingers. I didn’t know what was sexier, Hazel in her underwear or Hazel in my shirt. I tried to focus on mysearch for dry clothes, but it took me ten times longer than it should have to find a pair of shorts and towel in my gym bag.
I stripped down to my underwear and yanked on the shorts before she could notice the new hard-on. “For your hair,” I said, handing her the towel. “It came from my gym bag. It’s probably used.”
“Half-drowned beggars can’t be choosers,” she said, abandoning her button attempts and wrapping the towel around her hair.
I busied myself adjusting her vents and turning on her seat warmer.
“I didn’t mean to…you know,” I began.
“Throw me in the lake?” she supplied.
