Page 39

AVERY

I tug at the straps of the red bikini, suddenly self-conscious as Charlotte, Brynn, and I push through the glass doors leading to the hotel pool.

The small swatches of fabric leave little to the imagination, which is why I’ve yet to wear it in public.

In fact, I probably wouldn’t have brought it at all had I known we’d be swimming with the guys.

The scent of chlorine clings to the air as we walk further into the pool area, that distinct chemical smell mixing with the humidity in an oddly pleasant combination.

The rubber soles of our hotel slippers squeak against the wet tiles and I scan the area which is filled with more than twenty Griffin football players.

“They’re over here,” Brynn says, motioning to the group in the back.

I follow beside her, my gaze scanning the far end of the pool where West lounges on one of the plastic chairs reading a book, while Brandon does laps in the deep end, his powerful strokes cutting through the water with precision.

Chris, Jace, and Damon hang by the edge in the water, laughing about something, when Chris spots us and waves us over.

I try not to think about the heat of Damon’s gaze on me, tracking my every movement as we make our way toward them. Instead, I focus on smothering the butterflies suddenly fluttering inside my chest, reminding myself I don’t need to be nervous. This is Damon.

“Took you long enough,” he says once I’m standing in front of him, grinning up at me with a boyish smile.

I roll my eyes, belaying my nerves as I smile. “It’s called making an entrance,” I say, and then with all the courage I can muster, I drop the towel.

Damon’s mouth parts, his gaze hungrily raking over my body, eyes melting to liquid pools of heat. I lower myself into the water, ignoring the way he tracks my every movement.

“That’s the swimsuit you brought?” he chokes out in a strangled voice. “With all these guys here?” He motions around the pool, then shifts his body as if to block me from view.

“They’re your teammates,” I say slowly, a crease in my brow.

“Exactly. Fucking caveman, all of them.”

I stare at him for a beat before I tip my head back and laugh. “Jealous, QB?”

His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing to slits. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I tease, splashing water in his direction and watching, mesmerized, when the droplets catch on his chest and slide down his pecs to the defined muscles of his abdomen.

His swim trunks hang low on his hips, a thin trail of dark hair starting below his navel, heading south beneath his shorts.

Swallowing, I force myself to look away, turning and unintentionally giving him a view of my ass.

“ Fuck . That swimsuit should come with a warning label,” he growls under his breath, and when I glance back at him again, he’s raking a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as if there’s not enough oxygen in the room.

“It’s just a swimsuit, Damon.” Encouraged, I move closer, the water rippling around us as a prickling heat crawls up my neck that has nothing to do with the temperature of the pool.

“Right.” He glances at the space between us, as if he resents it, and so I reach for him, taking his hand in mine just as Chris lets out a low whistle.

“You two done flirting?” he asks. “Some of us are trying to put together a game of chicken here.”

I tear my gaze away from Damon’s to glance over at Chris. “Chicken? Seriously?” I say, my heart pounding like a stampede of buffalo in my chest. “What are we, twelve?”

“Scared we’ll lose, Astor?” Damon challenges, his voice dropping to a husky tone that makes my stomach flip.

Not scared. Nervous.

Because suddenly, the prospect of sitting on Damon’s broad shoulders with the heat of his skin beneath my thighs, is enough to make my head spin.

“From what I recall, we always made a great team,” he adds, studying me as if trying to read my thoughts.

“I don’t scare easily,” I say, even though right now it feels the opposite of the truth.

“Yes!” Brynn claps her hands together, and I jerk my gaze away from him. “I’m in! Jace, you’re with me.”

Charlotte loops her arm through Chris’s. “Let’s goooo.”

West lifts his head from his book and grins at Brandon as he asks, “Wanna be my partner, Brando?”

“Fuck off!” Brandon mutters, lifting himself to the edge of the pool.

“Guess that leaves us, partner,” Damon says to me, the baritone of his voice rumbling through my chest.

I shiver, whether from the cool water or the heat in his gaze, I don’t know.

Damon moves closer until the water between us all but disappears as his hands settle lightly at my waist, sending a shockwave of electricity straight through me. “Ready?” he murmurs, voice low and teasing.

Not even a little.

“Ready,” I breathe, earning a grin that could bring a girl to her knees.

“Good.” He flashes that devastating smile. “Hold on tight.”

Before I can second-guess myself, Damon ducks down and I squeal as he lifts me effortlessly onto his shoulders.

My hands instinctively thread through the damp locks of his hair to steady myself.

His grip on my thighs is firm and grounding, but it does little to ease the nerves jumping in my chest. From my new vantage point, I can see that Brynn’s already sitting on Jace’s shoulders, laughing uncontrollably as they bob in the water.

Charlotte and Chris are ready too, flashing us a cheeky thumbs-up.

“You good up there?” Damon asks, giving my thighs a light squeeze that has my stomach doing a full somersault.

“Define good,” I mutter, cheeks flaming. I’m suddenly hyperaware of every point of contact, each inch of skin touching his.

He chuckles, a deep, rumbly sound that vibrates all the way through his body and into mine. “You’ll be fine, Astor. Just don’t pull my hair when you panic.”

“Panic?” I scoff, emboldened by the way his hands tighten ever so slightly around me. “Are you confusing me with yourself, QB?” I ask haughtily. “You might panic during a game, but I don’t.”

“Oh, tough guy, are you?” He glances up at me, green eyes twinkling, and I laugh. “Keep talking, sweetheart and I’ll . . .”

“You’ll what?” I drawl as he steps into the center of the pool where the other pairs wait.

“Just remember, when you fall, I’m all you got—the only thing between you and the water.” Something about the way he says it—quiet, a little rough around the edges—makes it feel like he’s not just talking about falling into the water.

“Bring it on, QB,” I whisper, locking my knees around his neck for balance.

“That’s my girl.” He gives my thighs another squeeze as we square off with the other two couples.

“Alright, on my count!” Brandon shouts from the sidelines. “Three . . . two . . . one . . . go! ”

Chaos erupts around us as Charlotte lunges toward Brynn and Jace, arms flailing wildly.

Laughter and splashing water fill the air, but all I can focus on is Damon’s steady hands on my thighs, the way his body tenses and shifts to counter every movement I make, how natural it feels to trust him like this.

He’s still my Damon. Even after all this time. Even after what I did to him.

When Brynn leans precariously in our direction, shrieking with laughter, I reach out, more on instinct than strategy, and give her a gentle push. She topples backward with a splash, taking Jace down with her. Which only leaves Chris and Charlotte.

Charlotte’s eyes narrow at Brynn before returning to me. “You’re going down, Astor,” she calls out, already leaning forward with her arms outstretched.

“Not a chance,” I shoot back.

Adrenaline courses through my veins, and I feel Damon shift beneath me, his movements fluid and intuitive as he positions us for the final showdown.

“Remember the summer at Lake Tahoe?” he murmurs up at me, the words for my ears only. “Senior year?”

I do. My father invited the entire high school football team down to our vacation home at the lake. Damon and I were unstoppable then and beat the whole team without a single loss.

My heart swells at the fact that he remembers, too. That he even thought of mentioning it.

“Left feint, then right?” I whisper back.

“You got it,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

We move as one, Damon stepping left as I lean slightly that way, drawing Charlotte’s attention before we suddenly pivot right.

Her fingers brush my arm, but I’m ready, shifting my weight and pushing her shoulder firmly.

Charlotte wobbles precariously, arms windmilling as she tries to regain balance.

“Now!” Damon calls out, his grip tightening on my thighs as he steadies us against the counter-push.

Charlotte makes one last desperate grab, but it’s too late and she’s not nearly steady enough as I give her a fierce shove to the shoulders. She topples sideways with a shriek, dragging Chris down with her in a spectacular splash that sends water everywhere.

Victorious whoops and cheers erupt around the pool as Damon spins us in a triumphant circle, his hands squeezing my thighs.

“Still got it,” he says, tilting his head up to look at me, his smile so bright it’s almost blinding.

My heart hammers against my ribs, a mix of adrenaline and something deeper.

“Nice victory,” Damon says smugly, patting my calf.

I laugh, a wild, happy sound bursting from my chest, and in a reckless moment of pure joy, I lean down and press a quick kiss to the crown of his head.

Damon freezes, his hands tightening reflexively, and for a second, it’s just the two of us suspended there—breathless and tangled in something deeper than a silly game.

He tips his head back slightly, looking up at me with a smirk that’s both devastating and boyish all at once. “Careful, Astor. Keep doing that and I might not let you down.”

My heart cartwheels in my chest as I smile down at him, wondering for the first time in a long time, if maybe capturing his heart again will be easier than breathing.