I smile, trying to watch the scene without focusing on any of the guys in particular.
Tyler and Parker climb into the rowboat.
“I’ll swim,” I hear Liam say, nodding to Colin as Gus climbs in as well.
Without permission, caution flies out of my mouth. “Don’t be stupid, Liam. It’s getting dark out and there are boats all over the place.”
Liam glances over and raises a brow. I choose to focus on the annoying quirk instead of the way everyone is paying attention to us. Listening to our conversation. I cross my arms, like I have a right to tell Liam what he should or shouldn’t do.
“Careful, Jacobs,” he says. “Italmostsounds like you’re worried about me.”
I roll my eyes in a silentyeah, right. “It’s common sense. It’s a bad idea, right?” I look to Tessa, hoping for back-up. Out of everyone on board, I should be the person who cares about Liam Stevens’s well-being the least.
Instead, I’m the only one speaking up.
Tessa shrugs. “I’m not getting in the middle between you two.”
I huff, because her response makes my reaction sound like something it’s not. I can hate the guyandnot want him to get knocked unconscious and drown.
Parker is the only one who meets my eye when I glance around. “Stevens can handle himself,” he tells me.
I scoff. “Liam versus a boat? My money is on the boat.” I glance at Liam. “You should at least wear a life jacket.”
I’m not sure if the indifference in my voice fools anyone—but it’s not for lack of trying. I don’t want to pay any attention to him. Most—all—of the time, I’m excellent at acting selfish. Not so much an act, even. Iamselfish. Yet for some unknown reason, I’m currently more concerned with Liam’s safety.
Liam smirks at my comment. But—shockingly—he grabs one of the ugly orange life preservers from the stack along the railing. “I’m a lifeguard, Nat. I’m not going to fucking drown.”
I’m not sure if he registers the casual way he shortens my name—not sure if I misheard him. I’m entirely distracted by the fact he’s whipped his shirt off—that I’m staring at the same slabs of muscle I was pressed against last night and got glimpses of earlier.
Liam isn’t overly bulky or built. But every muscle in his abdomen is visible, each indentation and every valley. Something warms in me at the sight, like a pot of water slowly creeping toward a boil.
He snaps the buckles of the life jacket into place, blocking his abs from view.
“Great,” I say. “Have fun.”
Liam chuckles, then jumps into the water. Anxiety rises inside me like a nervous tide until I see his dark head bob above the surface and start swimming toward the shore.
The boat takes off after Liam. I track his long, efficient strokes as they cut through the dark water until he’s blocked by another boat and out of sight. At least he wasn’t lying about being a good swimmer. A few seconds later, the rest of the guys disappear as well.
Layla plops down on the boat deck, and the rest of us follow suit. I’m closest to the edge of the boat, so I dip a few toes in the water, feeling the cool liquid lap against my bare skin. It’s soothing. Calming.
Tessa and Audrey are chatting about the band we’ve come to see perform.
I zone in and out of their conversation as I lift and lower my feet in the water, enjoying the way all the surroundings diminish as the light slowly fades from the sky.
It’s becoming more and more difficult to see what’s around us, and rather than find it disorienting, it’s more reassuring. There’s less to focus on. I can stare out at the dark and only worry about what’s going on inside my head, not what is happening around me. But inevitably, it also reminds me of late last night. Of staring out from the back deck and seeing nothing.
I alternate sips and stealing glimpses out at the water.
“So… What is Liam’s deal?”
My attention is reflexive, an unconscious response to hearing his name. It takes a second for me to realize I won’t be absorbing anything of interest.
I pause, can halfway to my mouth, when I realize everyone is looking atmeto answer that question. I shrug and take a swig. “Hell if I know.”
“He obviously has a thing for you.”
Bubbles burn my throat as I half-cough, half-swallow.