The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(112)

Ellis wades in until one of the guys who was helping to move the skis lifts him up and onto the front of Megan’s.

“Megan,” Elliot warns, flipping his cap around and staring her down. “Don’t you dare.”

Megan hits the throttle, throwing up water and heading out of the cove. Nina and Mason follow close behind, chuckling as they go.

“Scar, get over here,” Elliot says, making my heart sink.

“Umm…” Scarlet looks from me to Elliot and back again. “I… I—”

Charlie shoots off with Scar screaming and clinging on for dear life.

I shake my head as they all get further and further away, leaving Elliot and me alone.

He twists to look back at me, his jaw like stone, as he nods for me to get on.

“I can wait… we don’t have to.”

“Get on, Luce.”

Nerves swim in my stomach as I walk over and climb on behind him. I shuffle forward on the seat until my body fits with his, and he waits patiently for me to get into position. I wrap my arms around his torso and take a deep breath. The feel of his body pressed tightly to mine, his chest warm under my palms, it feels too good.

“Fucking meddling pricks.”

I close my eyes as my stomach bottoms out. We fly out of the cove and speed out to sea, bouncing across the surface of the water. I squeeze Elliot tight, not being able to do anything else but hold on.

We quickly catch up with the others, and I watch Ellis with his hands on the body of the Jet Ski as Megan swings it around in circles. He’s having the time of his life, and it makes my heart warm.

The guys try to race around and act like typical men, all while we scream like a bunch of girls on the back—I wish we could be better.

Elliot looks over his shoulder at me at one point, and I swear I catch a hint of a smile.

I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose.

We come to a stop on the water, and Ellis calls out to Scarlet. She dives in and swims over to him, taking him from Megan when she lifts him down.

Megan, now being free of the small child, shoots off to the left of the cliffs.

“I’ll stay here with these two,” Charlie tells us, nodding at Ellis, who’s clinging to Scarlet’s back as she swims around.

Nina swaps and sits in front of Mase.

Elliot twists in the seat. “You want to drive?”

“I don’t know how.”

“It’s easy.”

He reaches for my hand, and I stand, stepping on the side of the Jet Ski as Elliot shuffles back. His hands grasp my hips, and I suck in a breath, memories from the night before flooding back. He lifts me with ease, placing me in the driving seat.

I reach for the handles, getting a feel for the position. “What do I do?” I ask, turning to ask Elliot.

He grasps the handles with me, using them to pull himself forward and flush to my back. It makes his biceps bulge against my barely defined ones.

It makes me feel dainty and reminds me that he’s all man.

My lips part, and I know my cheeks are pink.

“This is the throttle.” He twists the handle. “Brakes. And this button here will—”

I grasp his hand when I spot the light-yellowish bruising on his knuckles. I pull it closer so I can inspect it better, looking down at the scabs that are almost all flaked off.

My thumb runs over the shiny skin. “What happened?”

I turn my head, finding his face right there, our noses almost touching as he watches me. Our eyes meet, and I search for the parts I know are there, buried deep by my betrayal.

“What happened?” I ask again, knowing he’s almost there.

He looks to his hand and then back into my eyes. “You had a panic attack.”

My brows pinch together as my body aches.

He did this because of me? Because I called him?

“Does it hurt still?” I ask, watching my thumb trace his knuckles. I can’t look at his face right now.

“It’ll always hurt when it comes to you.”

I snap my eyes up, sucking in a breath as he reaches out and pushes my hair off my shoulder. My throat works on a swallow, and I know he sees it, his eyes trained on the motion. I think he’s going to say something. Shit, I should say something. But then he shocks me, hooking his pinkie under my necklace as he lifts it.

“Did you wear this while you were sucking him off?”

Oh my god.

“I haven’t,” I rush out.

His eyes jump from mine to the necklace and back again. I can see him fighting with himself. He wants to be mad at me because he is, it’s clear. But I also don’t think he knows how.

“Do you want it back?” I ask, feeling awkward and waiting for him to pull away.

His eyes spark at the idea. “Yes.”

I nod, quickly undoing it and placing it in his hand. I feel a pang of pain that travels right down to the tips of my fingers as I pull away empty-handed.

He looks at it for a second, flipping it over in his palm. And then, in a moment of gut-wrenching absurdity, he drops it into the sea.

My heart lurches as it plops in the water, and I gasp. I want to jump in, sink with it so I can wear it for an eternity. But like every other pivotal moment in my life, I look to the closest person to me for an answer, approval, any guidance they’ll give me.

I get nothing from the man staring back at me, and when I finally cut my eyes to my necklace in a panic, I see it glisten in the clear blue water before fading into the infinite black.