Page 31 of The Girlfriend Game
“Yikes, he’s bound to do some damage.”
I swing my bag over my shoulder and take a few steps forward. The light brush of his hand against the small of my back sends butterflies flocking to my stomach.
“You ready?” he asks sweetly, gesturing for me to join him on the sidewalk.
We head toward the lake, a manmade attraction in the north end of Seattle, surrounded by old Victorian and bungalow-style homes where families, pedestrians, and bicyclists gather in hordes, rain or shine, to enjoy the scenery.
Taking in a giant-sized breath, I let it out slowly, trying to formulate a logical explanation of how this connection between Zeke and me even occurred.
As if reading my mind, he chuckles to himself, spinning his hat forward again and pulling it down to shield his face. I wonder if it’s because of the sun or fear of being recognized.
“This is strange, right?” He glances furtively under the bill of his cap, tipping his chin to the side. He offers me an amused smile and I can’t help but smile back.
“Honestly, yes. I’d have to say it’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me. But then again, that’s not saying much because I live a pretty dull life.”
Hetsksdubiously. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
I wrinkle my nose. “You do realize it was my twin sister who got me into this mess in the first place, right? I would never have done something so bold and risky. Like, ever, ever.”
“You consider a dating app bold and risky?” He lets out a bark of laughter. “Wow. Then I shouldn’t tell you some of the wild and crazy things I’ve done in my life. You might just turn and run right back to your car as fast as you can.”
“Oh, really? Why hasn’t this come up before now? Let me hear it.”
Even as the question leaves my mouth, I realize it’s the first question I’ve asked him to elaborate on from my personal perspective because I want to know more about the real Zeke. The question wasn’t asked from a therapist’s standpoint in order to get him to open up so I can learn what makes him tick.
I asked it because I honestly want to know about him.
Zeke turns toward a long boat dock stretching out across the water, geese and ducks swimming contentedly near the edge of the greenish-brown water that laps against the dock buoys. I follow his long strides across the wood-slatted sections. A light breeze provides enough chill in the air that I remember I left my sweatshirt in the car.
“Hell, I don’t even know where to start.” He stops at the end of the dock and looks down at me, raising an eyebrow that gets lost under the bill of his cap. “I was a hellion from the time I was a kid. Always doing all the things I was told not to do. If my parents or someone in authority told me it was forbidden or against the rules, it only made it that much more enticing. I was a daredevil and always pushed things to the limit.”
He points to the sign in the water about six feet out from the edge of the dock. “See that sign?”
Shielding my eyes with my hand against the brightness reflecting off the water, I see it says “No diving from the dock.” I nod.
“If I were a kid and saw that sign? It would only encourage me to do it because someone told me I couldn’t.” He snickers, lifting the cap to run a hand through his thick, tousled mane.
I gaze out across the water to the roped-off swimming hole area now filled with kids, their laughter and joy reminding me of my own childhood.
“I’m the complete opposite,” I admit bashfully, lifting my eyes back to his to see him peering down at me with interest. “I was the rule follower in every sense of the word. My sister wasn’t too bad, either, but she certainly had a wild streak in high school. She made me cover up for her a lot.”
Zeke laughs. “I bet you hated that. But you probably came out ahead in the end with some great blackmailing tools.”
I think back to that period in our lives and remember the arguments Kerry and I would get into when she’d back me in a corner and demand I do her bidding, making me promise and swear never to say a word to Mom and Dad about whatever trouble she got into. Sneaking out in the middle of the night and coming home drunk, leaving me to take care of things.
Sarcasm rolls off my tongue. “You’d think so, right? But I was too naïve and innocent back then to even consider it.”
“Ah, man. You missed out.” His face lights up with a mischievous gleam in his deep brown eyes. “Maybe I can help you experience life on the edge today. What do you say? Want to go have some real fun with me?”
I gulp nervously and stare down dubiously at his outstretched hand between us. He’s offering me a chance to let go and trust that it will be okay.
Something inside me says, “Do it. Just this once. Go ahead and do it.”
So, I do.
I fit my hand in his as our palms touch, the heat sizzling and zapping from the connection as he interlaces his fingers with mine. With a quick tug, he sets off in a jog, and I try to keep up with him as we head back toward dry land. When we get to the end of the dock, he peers over his shoulder with a wink.
“Trust me, Kendall. This will be fun. I promise.”
