And now, here I am, standing at the edge of the lake, blinking at the two-person kayak I’m supposed to somehow navigate alone.
Logan nudges me with his shoulder. “Bash is going to be your partner. You’re going to need his help more than I will.”
Hope blossoms in my chest. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yeah. The water is my domain. I got this.”
Bash grins as he walks up beside me, pushing up his sleeves like we’re about to compete in the Olympics. “Ready to paddle into the sunset with me, pumpkin?”
“I’m ready to get through this as quickly as possible. Preferably dry.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Bash lets me get in first. When I take a step into the front seat, he steadies me by the waist so we don’t tip, and then he gets in behind me. The water sloshing against the sides of the kayak is nothing compared to the nerves and butterflies crashing in my stomach. But my excitement quickly transforms into irritation, because we’re barely five strokes in before it becomes clear that we are terrible at paddling together.
Bash rows too aggressively, like he’s trying to beat the water into submission.
“Easy. We’re not in the ring right now. Calm down.”
“What do you mean? I’m doing an excellent job,” he says.
Maybe he is, but my rowing is so weak in comparison that we spin in a circle, drawing the attention and laughter of several teens as they paddle past us. Pretty soon, we’re the last ones drifting away from the shore.
“You’re not following my rhythm,” I say.
“I didn’t realize this was a rhythm-based activity.”
“Stop muscling it. Paddle lightly.”
He scoffs. “I don’t know how to paddle lightly. Have you seen my arms?”
“Unfortunately.”
He eases up slightly.
And then we tip. One sharp lurch of the kayak and we’re in the water.
The lake is icy, as expected, and shockingly quiet beneath the surface. When I come up sputtering, Bash is already laughing.
I glare at him. “You did that on purpose!”
“Me? Never.” He floats effortlessly, his black sweater drenched and clinging to him in a way that makes it hard to form coherent thoughts. “I mean, I didn’tnotsee it coming.”
“Bash!”
He grins. “I’m sorry.”
Everyone else is so far ahead of us by now. Even Logan has caught up with the rest of our groups.
We swim toward the nearest section of shoreline. By the time we drag ourselves onto the grassy bank, my pulse is racing for a reason that has nothing to do with cold.
We’re alone.
“You’re maddening.” I spin away from him and stomp deeper into the trees. Of course,of course,I’d end up completely soaked after partnering with him. It’s bad enough that I was trying to avoid getting wet in the first place. It’s even worse that I can’t fully be angry at him because his contagious smirk is making it hard for me not to start laughing right along with him.
As he follows me, another low chuckle escapes him, making me spin to face him. I take in the water dripping from his hair and the leaf stuck to his shoulder. I reach for it without thinking, and when I brush it away, my hand lingers.
Mistake.
