Bring Me Back(76)

“Me either,” he agrees.

“Is Cole with your parents this weekend?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, it wasn’t their weekend to do it but I asked if they’d mind. They were cool with it, of course. They’ve told me they’d like to do it more often but usually weekends are the only times I can do something fun with him.”

“Maybe next time Cole can come with us? We could go to the movies or something?”

His eyes shine as he grins. “Already planning on a next time then?” I duck my head, embarrassed. His fingers touch my chin, lifting my head up. “I like that you’re already thinking ahead.” His voice grows deep. Husky. “Why are you embarrassed?” he asks and lets go

I want to look away but it’s impossible. “This is all so new and different,” I say.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he agrees. “But new and different isn’t always a bad thing.”

“No, it’s not.” I smile up at him. “I like being with you,” I tell him. It’s a bold statement for me but I don’t cower. I want him to know I mean it.

His smile is so large and bright it rivals the sun. In fact, I think he might be the sun. My own personal sun, that is. He came into my life when I was in the darkest of places and immediately filled it with light. He hasn’t healed me, but he’s given me the strength to do it on my own.

“I like being with you too, Blaire.” He tilts his head towards the sun. “I feel like I’m living again,” he whispers so low I’m not sure I heard him right.

We finish eating and stuff our trash back in the cooler.

Ryder then picks up the two poles and the bag of worms and we head closer to the shore. I kick off my shoes and chide myself for wearing a long dress. The end of it will have to get wet.

We step into the water and Ryder hands me a pole. I immediately say, “Don’t even think about handing me a worm to put on the end of this thing.”

“Aw, don’t be so skittish, Blaire,” he jokes, rifling through the bag. He pulls out a worm and throws it at me.

I scream, like the little girl that I am, and flail. I lose my balance on a rock and slip into the water.

“Oh. My. God,” I say. Ryder is laughing uproariously at me. I can’t really blame him. It is pretty funny even if I can’t see the humor at the moment.

“I didn’t even throw it,” he chortles, holding out the worm.

“I hate you so much right now,” I say. I haven’t bothered getting up. What’s the point? I’m already soaking wet. Instead, I kick out at Ryder and splash him with water. He holds out his hands against the spray and drops the stupid worm in the water.

“Oh, you’ve done it now.” He laughs and splashes me with water. He ends up slipping in the process—seriously, those rocks are slippery—and goes down in front of me.

I bust out laughing. Now this is funny.

“Oh, so it’s funny when I fall?” he jokes.

I can’t answer because I’m too busy laughing. He splashes me, just a light spray, and I send a whole wall of water at him.

I can’t stop laughing and neither can he. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

We both completely forget about the objective of fishing. This, living in the moment, is too much fun.

Minutes later, and out of breath, I gasp, “We’re a mess.”

We’re both completely soaked. My hair drips onto my shoulders and I’m sure my mascara is streaked across my cheeks. I can’t bring myself to care, though. Not when I’m having this much fun.

Ryder sits beside me in the water—it’s not very deep where we are—and neither of us makes a move to get out.

He shakes his wet hair like a dog and droplets of water spray across me.

“Hey.” I laugh and hold up my hands to protect against the onslaught.

He laughs and glances over at me. A droplet of water drips from the end of his nose, to his chin, where it gets lost in other sluices of water.

“Some date, huh?” He chuckles and stands up, holding his hand down for me. I slip a bit on the rocks as he pulls me up and he holds me tight against his chest. Despite the cool temperature of the water, his body is warm and I’m instantly heated.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” I tell him.

“So much for fishing, though.” He holds my hands and we cross the few feet back to the grassy shore. “We better change our clothes.”

I look down at my soaking wet dress and shiver. “Yeah, good idea,” I agree.

We grab everything and head back to his car. While he loads everything inside I try to squeeze as much water as I can from my dress so I don’t completely soak his car. When he has the trunk packed he hooks his thumbs in the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

Time slows and I stare as his stomach is exposed. It’s smooth and tan with dark hair disappearing into the band of his boxer-briefs that peek out of the top of his shorts. He’s muscled, but not overly so. It’s clear he works out and stays in shape, but he’s not the body builder type. He’s real, and I like that.

He tosses the shirt in the trunk before closing it. The sound of it slamming closed snaps me out of my reverie.

“Ready?” he asks, hands settling on his narrow hips.