“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I… The filter’s dialed to low tonight. Ignore me and show me how to throw this damn rock.”
She stared at him for a moment longer, the awkwardness tangling between them, and then nodded. “Right. Let’s give it a try.”
* * *
Liv’s blood was thumping in her ears, almost blocking out the sounds of the night around her. The way Finn had looked at her and his words had blindsided her. But what should have sent her scrambling to reassert their boundaries had her skin heating in ways it shouldn’t. Maybe it was the fire. Probably the fire.
She led him to the edge of the lake and picked up her own rock, trying to focus on the task at hand. Rock skipping. She could do rock skipping. “Okay, so I think your problem is that you’re too erect.”
There was a strangled sound next to her.
Shit. Shit. Wrong word. Now images were happening. Images she didn’t need while trying to form words. “Uh, I mean, you’re so tall, and you’re standing straight when you throw. You have to crouch a little so that when you sidearm it, you’re closer to the lake’s surface. Like this.”
She demonstrated and got her rock to skim the surface with three perfect skips. Plink. Plink. Plink. Plunge.
“See. Your turn.”
Finn grunted. “You making it look so damn easy is only going to further injure my ego when mine sinks like an anchor.”
“Positive thoughts, Dorsey. Be the rock.”
He sent her a come-on-now look but shifted his stance, crouched, and threw. The rock skipped twice, then sank. Not great, but better than his previous attempts.
“Hey,” she said, turning his way. “You did it.”
But there was still a look of consternation on his face. “I need three.”
“Maybe you should stop while you’re ahead.”
“Not my style.” He palmed the rock she’d given him, a nice flat, smooth one, then got into position again.
The wrinkle between his brows was adorably serious, like he was trying to figure out a missile launch for NASA instead of rock skipping. He gave it a toss, and it tapped the surface. One, two, three times. With a shout, he raised his arm above his head. “Score!”
“You did it!” She whooped and joined him in the celebration, making a cheerleader vee with her arms. “Go team! I’d do a toe touch, but then we’d have to go to the hospital.”
He turned to her, grinning. “Thanks, Coach. Obviously, I was too erect.”
She choke-laughed and pressed her hand over her mouth.
“I mean, really? I slip up and say something I shouldn’t, and you go with erect in the next sentence?” he teased. “Way to make it weird, Arias.”
“Hey, erect is a perfectly proper word. I can’t help it if your mind was in the gutter.”
“I’ve been celibate for two years. Assume it’s always there. I’ve set up shop and built a little gutter town. We’re about to elect a mayor.”
She crossed her arms and tilted her head, goading him. “So during this whole deep conversation about emotions and past trauma and recovering, your mind was really just thinking—”
“Sex, skipping rocks, beer, sex, maybe more pizza, sex.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nice.”
He smirked. “No, but seriously, I’ll try to do better at not making this awkward. I’m not trying to make a move on you. I wanted you here for exactly the reasons I told you. No ulterior motives. I just slip up sometimes because you’re…I don’t know”—he swept a hand in her direction—“you.”
She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sizzle of awareness that sent through her. “And because you’ve been hard up for two years.”
“Yes, that, but mostly the other thing.” He shrugged, honesty in his eyes. “You hit all my buttons, Livvy. Always have. But I’m smart enough to know not to screw up what could be a great summer for both of us with something stupid like lust. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
“Did you just say big and handle yourself?”