Page 43 of Those Summer Nights (Sweet Cravings 2)

I grabbed the hem of my shirt and slowly lifted it over my head. My lifeguard had seen me in a bikini. This wasn't any worse. And I always wore nice pushup bras to work because it usually got me better tips. Since Clint had zero desire to help me win this game, maybe taking his advice wasn’t such a bad idea. J.J. was in dire need of a distraction. I tossed my shirt as seductively as possible to the side, leaned down, and picked up the ball off the floor.

J.J.’s eyes were locked on my breasts. And Clint's girlfriend was certainly staring at him. Maybe Clint was right. I took a deep breath. This was going to be more fun than I realized. Now that we had the upper hand, I’d be winning in no time. I was already prepping my victory lap…which included me putting my shirt on first. Maybe after I shoved it in J.J.’s face.

It was his turn to serve. He served it toward me. It was a good serve, but not too good that I couldn't return it. Because I’m awesome like that! We got the next four points so that we were tied five to five.

"Your turn," I said and folded my arms across my chest. Take that.

My lifeguard shrugged. He grabbed his shirt by the collar and pulled it off. I should have been desensitized to his sculpted torso from seeing him at the beach all the time, but I wasn't. I was practically salivating. And he aced his next serve.

"You okay there, Jellyfish Girl?" He flashed me his smile that made my knees weak.

"Yes, I'm fine." I wasn't. I was clearly way more distracted by him than he was by me. Stupid perfect lifeguard body. It was Clint's serve and he was clearly distracted by his girlfriend too. We lost the next four points in record time.

I tried to think of what underwear I was wearing. I was pretty sure it was a thong. Not just pretty sure, positive. I had to wear a thong with these shorts or else I’d have a visible underwear line. Fuck my life. Clint dropped his shorts. I looked down at the floor. I didn't want to see him in his boxers. This isn't a big deal. We've all seen people naked of the opposite sex. This is normal. How is this normal again? I unbuttoned my shorts while my brain started having a panic attack of its own.

Because I was wrong. This was mortifying. And humiliating. And awkward as all get out. Why couldn't I have worn a normal pair of underwear? Stupid underwear lines. Underwear lines deserved a slow and painful death. I slowly lowered my shorts to the floor. I couldn't make eye contact with my lifeguard. Or anyone for that matter.

Clint picked up the ball. "Your face is bright red, Stalker Girl," he whispered. "Chill, you have a great ass."

Holy fucking shit. My face probably turned five shades redder. My lifeguard cleared his throat. I finally looked up. He was smiling at me.

That smile did something to my heart, because it was beating so fast I felt faint. I couldn't lose any more clothes or I might have a heart attack. We needed to score the next five points to tie it up. I tried hard to focus on the ball. We won the last serve Clint made. Luckily his girlfriend was bad at serving and we won four out of the five points that she served.

My lifeguard quickly took off his shorts and kicked them to the side. He wasn't embarrassed at all. Granted, I had already seen him in just his boxers. He’d flaunted himself around that changing room like it was no big deal. So why did all of this feel like a big deal to me?

He didn't glance at all at Clint's girlfriend. His eyes stayed locked on me. I wasn't sure if he actually liked what he saw, or if he was just trying to embarrass me. My eyes drifted down his torso. There was definitely a big bulge in his boxers. If we got five points I'd get to see him naked. And if they got four more, he'd see me topless. That couldn't happen. It was not a possibility. I needed to step up my game or live the rest of my life under an actual rock.

I grabbed the ball. I did one of my best serves and my lifeguard returned it. The volleys were long. Just like his penis probably was. Shit, focus! My lifeguard and I had taken over so that we were hitting the majority of the balls while Clint and his girlfriend barely got to hit any. Even though Clint wasn't screwing me up, I was still distracted and we lost three out of five of my serves. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening.

"We just need one more point and then we win," my lifeguard said. It was really more of a taunt.

"Stop gloating. You haven't won yet," I snapped. This can't be real. Maybe I was having a really awkward vivid dream. I pinched myself. Nope, I’m living this nightmare.

I tried to reach over to return a shot, but Clint hit it instead. The ball missed my lifeguard's side of the table by a fraction of an inch.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I threw my paddle down on the table.

"Sorry, Stalker Girl," Clint said. He grabbed the waistline of his boxers and pulled them down. I quickly looked away. “Your turn,” I heard him say.

Why didn’t I wear more layers today? Fuck. I can't believe I'm doing this. I reached behind my back and unhinged my bra. I turned around and let my bra straps slide down my arms. Before I turned back around I strategically folded my arms across my chest. At least my nipples were covered. My very hard nipples, thanks to my stupid lifeguard.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Clint said and walked over to his girlfriend.

"Clint!" she screamed as he lifted her over his shoulder. The two of them laughed as they disappeared into J.J.’s bedroom, which I was hoping was their shared bedroom. Or else that was super weird.

"Well that was fun," my lifeguard said.

"Okay, can I put my clothes back on now?" I kept my arms folded across my chest.

"Hmmm." My lifeguard walked over to me.

"I can't believe you lied to me about being good at ping pong."

"I didn't lie. The first time we played I was too distracted to play well."

"By what?"

"You."

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