Page 86 of The Storm

I hum while I walk, and when I clear the trees and make it to the dock, there’s Nick, sitting on the edge with his feet in thewater, looking almost impossibly relaxed and at peace in a way he almost never is.

I go and sit down next to him. He doesn’t seem surprised in the least. Instead, it feels like he’s been waiting for me.

Thatshouldn’t feel as good as it does, but I don’t even care right now.

“I figured you’d still be sleeping,” I say.

We’ve both been busy all week, so there haven’t been a lot of chances for us to be alone together.

There have been a lot of quick, stolen moments in his car on the way to and from work though, making out on abandoned roads and in dark parking lots, straddling him in the confines of the driver’s seat, hands roaming over bodies and strips of exposed skin, mouths devouring until we’re both panting and so turned on we’re a second away from combusting.

“Didn’t feel like it.”

He looks tired, but it’s not like I’m going to convince him to go back to bed and leave me here alone.

“I guess you can always take a nap.”

“I have an afternoon shift,” he says.

“You do know you’re supposed to have time off here and there, right?”

“Should I?”

“I mean, yeah. Rest and relaxation and all that.”

He squints. “You should probably show me how that’s done.”

I grin and nod toward the bay. “Want to come with me?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

It’s not as if he’s promising me the world.

But it feels like it.

I restmy paddle on my thighs and watch the perfectly flat surface of the bay all around us. It almost looks like glass, it’s so still. The sky and the sea blend into one so seamlessly it’s impossible to say where one ends and the other starts.

I dip my hand in and move my fingers to break the surface. The ripple spreads out in slow circles. I lift my hand out, turn, and flick water at Nick.

He makes a face and glares at me, but it turns out once you’ve licked someone else’s tongue, their glares lose a lot of their potency.

I see him. Clearer and clearer with every passing day.

He cups his hand and throws water back at me.

“Asshole,” I say. Funny how that turns into a pet name after you’ve had your hands down someone’s pants.

I retaliate.

He throws more water.

“Hey!” I start to laugh, half-heartedly trying to shield myself from the shower of droplets that rain down on me.

“You started it.” He’s already reaching out again.

“You looked hot.” I grin at him. “I was just trying to help. Don’t punish me for good intentions!”

“Good intentions my ass.” He dips the tip of his paddle into the water.