Patchwork Paradise(21)

“You really shouldn’t laugh at something like that, Cleo. I’m frankly surprised.” He spun on his heel and was gone.

“Thanks a lot,” Cleo said, still wiping tears from her eyes. “Now he thinks I’m a total *.”

“Well, you deserve it.”

“And you get to sit in a canoe with him for the next three hours while Marjory hates you a little bit.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned and followed her when she walked away from me, laughing again.

I stopped fighting Thomas when he squeezed me into the fifth life vest, determined to find one that fit me like a glove. Marjory kept looking at us speculatively, while Cleo was on the verge of another burst of laughter. Imran stood by and watched like we were all crazy.

Though I silently devised plans to tip Cleo’s kayak when she least expected it, I remembered she was my oldest friend. I gave her a sideways hug. “Love you, Cleo,” I whispered.

“Aw, Ollie.” She hugged me back. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

The sun beat hotly on our backs when we finally took to the water. I’d kept my T-shirt on underneath my life jacket, but Thomas had slipped his off. His tan skin glimmered with pearls of sweat as he pushed our canoe into the Semois and jumped into the back.

“I take it you’ve done this before,” I said, looking over my shoulder.

He gave me a toothy grin. “Yes, haven’t you?”

“Well . . . not since I was eleven?”

He laughed and pushed his oar in the water. “Like riding a bike,” he said in a way I didn’t believe at all.

We did well for the most part, but when we hit a rapid, I panicked enough that if he hadn’t bought my fear of drowning before, he would now.

“I swear, I’m fine!” I yelled over the rush of the water when he asked me for the tenth time if we needed to pull over to the shallower side. “I thought we were going to end up going backward. I’m good.” My oar got stuck behind a rock, and I winced as it yanked my shoulder back.

“If you’re sure.”

We were due to meet Marjory, Imran, and Cleo a little farther down the river, on a secluded beach I remembered from the school trip, but they’d struggled setting off, so they were pretty far behind us.

“You think our picnic will still be dry?” I glanced over my shoulder, and Thomas nudged the waterproof container at his feet.

“It’ll be dry and taste of plastic, no doubt.”

“Yum. Fromage au plastique. My favorite.”

Thomas laughed, then splashed me gently with his oar. I made an outraged noise and flicked my oar back, sending a huge wave of water over the edge of our little canoe. I stared at him, stunned as he sat there, dripping wet, eyes wide with disbelief.

“I’m sorry! Oh shit, I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay, buddy.” Thomas dipped his oar in the water, and I could see his chest muscles flex beneath the life jacket, his biceps bulging and veiny as he fought the water, getting ready to splash me in retaliation. As I braced myself to get soaked to the bone, our boat slipped into a rapid, a narrow stream of fast-running water tucked out of sight under tree branches and bushes. I wasn’t fast enough to correct our course, and we bumped into a large rock, spinning sideways. Thomas’s oar got caught in a bunch of weeds, and our canoe tilted. The plastic drum with our lunch, phones, and wallets bumped the side of the boat, and over we went.

I had enough time to think, Holy f*cking crap, this is cold, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. “I’ve got you!” Thomas yelled over the roar of the water. “I’ve got you. You’re fine.”

“I know—” I managed. “I know I’m fine. Seriously, I can—” The words died in my mouth. Thomas spun me around and held me against him, and the noise that came out of my mouth wasn’t dignified. No one had held me this close since Sam died, and my body craved it like air. I gasped for it as if I hadn’t breathed in a long time. He misunderstood me and soothed me as he dragged me toward calmer water.

“It’s okay. There’s a little beach right there. Can you swim toward it? You should be able to stand soon. I’m so sorry, Ollie.” He tightened his grip on me a little more.

I nodded, trying not to feel bereft as he let go of me. I knew I should’ve helped him drag the boat back in, but I felt weirdly paralyzed. At least I managed to rescue our lunch. I flopped down beside it.

“Are you all right?” Thomas asked me after he pulled the canoe onto our little refuge. “I’m so sorry. That was my fault.” He sat down, reached for my hand, and grabbed it tightly. Maybe because I couldn’t look at him. “I should never have played around like that knowing what you told me earlier. I feel terrible.”

Ah f*cking hell. I couldn’t stand it.

“I lied.” I stared at his neat fingernails, feeling every infinitesimal movement of his hand. The pressure of his grip grew lighter and lighter as I talked until eventually he let go. “I don’t have a fear of drowning. Cleo was teasing me because I saw you and Marjory, um, on the couch. Last night. And you wanted to know what she was laughing at, and I saw your life vest and the first thing I thought of was drowning. I never meant to make you feel bad, and I’m really sorry.”

We sat side by side, looking at our own hands like two bumpkins. “So,” he said after a long, uncomfortable silence. “You saw us having sex?”