Page 60 of On the Rocks

“Does that make you Clyde?”

“Of course.”

“You know that story didn’t end very well, right?”

I smirked, stepping into her space and lowering my voice so only she could hear. “I guess we’ll have to re-write an ending of our own.”

I stood there a little too close, a little too long, eyes falling to her lips for the tiniest second before I caught her gaze again. And she didn’t say a word, didn’t swallow or step back. She just stood there, staring back at me, letting those words linger in the space between.

She still hadn’t taken a breath when I finally walked away.

Ruby Grace

“No.”

I crossed my arms, covering the new bathing suit top Noah had purchased me at the lake shop for our spontaneous “friend date.” It was all I wore — that new swim suit — but Noah was sitting on a beast of a machine, holding up a lifejacket he wanted me to put on over it.

“Come on,” he said on a laugh, holding up the bright pink jacket again. “You’re wasting daylight, and I have more planned for this friend date.”

“I’m not getting on that thing.”

“It’s a jet ski,” he reminded me.

“I know what it is, and I’m not getting on it.” I crossed my arms harder.

“It’s just like riding a horse.”

“No,” I argued, eyeing the beast. “On Tank, I knew you wouldn’t purposefully throw me off or do donuts or go sixty miles per hour.”

“It tops out at forty-five.”

I gave him a flat stare.

“Fine,” he said on another laugh. “I’ll keep it under twenty until you’re comfortable. And trust me, by the end of the day, you’ll be begging me to letyoudrive. It’s fun. And it’s safe. Wear the life jacket and pay attention to other vessels on the water. It’s that simple.”

I blew out a breath through my flat lips, making the same noise Tank made the night I met him as I stared at Noah, debating. It was a beautiful summer day, the sun high in the sky and beating down on my shoulders as a cool breeze drifted lazily over the blue water of Lake Stratford. It was only a half hour outside of town, and a resident favorite getaway — especially in the summer. Other boaters and jet skiers were already out enjoying the water, sunbathers lining the beach, fishermen dotting the rocky shores.

When I finally uncrossed my arms and swiped the life jacket out of Noah’s hands, a victorious grin spread on his face.

“You better not try to throw me off this thing, Noah Becker, or so help me.”

He laughed, scooting up on the jet ski as I fastened the belts of the jacket around my waist. When I was all buckled in, I hopped on behind him, the tops of my thighs lining up with the backs of his, my chest to his back — which was bare, since he electednotto wear a lifejacket.

I swallowed at the heat of him, the tanned, toned muscles of his back already glistening with water from when he jumped in the water before climbing onboard. His hair was a little longer than when I first met him, the ends of it dripping water down his neck, and I watched those little droplets of water with something similar to envy as I wrapped my hands around his middle, scooting a little closer.

“You ready?” he asked over his shoulder, pressing the red button on the jet ski that fired the engine to life. It rumbled softly underneath us, and my heart picked up speed at the noise.

“No.”

He chuckled. “Hold on tight.”

Without another word or warning, Noah pressed his thumb on the throttle, and we shot away from the shore.

I yelped, nearly falling off backward before I gripped his abdomen tighter. “Noah!”

I watched the speed climb the same way the grin on his face did. The numbers on the little screen increased too quickly — ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five. We flew over the soft waves of Lake Stratford, slicing through the water like a viper, and my heart threatened to leap out of my chest with each new acceleration.

“I changed my mind. I want off. I want off!”