Like the dignified woman that she was, Charlie swam to the ladder and climbed out. Had it been me, I would’ve heaved myself over the side. Once on the sidewalk, she tugged those jean cutoffs lower. I wondered if she regretted not wearing a bikini. She had to be chafing by now.
As we’d gotten closer to the kiss, Duprees and Bishops had trickled in. Somewhere during the day, someone got the bright idea to set up a flat screen in the grass so everyone didn’t have to huddle behind Bennett’s screen. So now, Charlie’s and my every move was on full display.
Liam caught my eye and immaturely started making out with the back of his hand. Griffin didn’t bother with his hand. He closed his eyes, swayed his shoulders, and licked the air like he had an imaginary ice cream cone. Bowen had his back turned—hugging himself, his hands roved up and down his sides as he shimmied. Thank God—literally—that Theo and James were too busy working on their fixer-upper to come watch the goat rodeo that was about to happen. I was at my-family-has-too-much-free-time-to-mess-with-me limit.
I glared at my cousins, wishing I could flip them the bird. But that was a no-go. Even if Anna and Blue’s son, Bronco, hadn’t been watching, Granny and Gramps were here.
Finally, Charlie was at the top of the slide. It wasn’t a straight shot down. It was something you’d see at a water park. Twists and turns that took a solid twenty seconds to get through. So every time they decided we needed another take, Charlie had to swim to the ladder, hike up three flights of stairs, and start over again.
The whole crew watched her like it was the final play of the Super Bowl. Bennett perched on the edge of his director’s chair, sunglasses pushed up into his unruly blonde hair, hands clasped. Next to him, the cinematographer adjusted his camera, barking something about angles to a guy holding a giant reflector. The boom operator stood arm-pit deep in the pool, his pole hovering just out of frame. By the waterfall, two production assistants stood ready with towels, whispering to each other. A makeup artist with a waterproof touch-up kit paced anxiously near the edge, probably worried Charlie’s mascara was going to smudge again.
When she made it to the top, Bennett’s assistant called, “Action!”
Charlie gripped the bar, eyes locked on me. I nodded and she let go. I braced myself, feet hip distance apart. My eyes were trained on the last bend, waiting for her to come around the corner. I don’t know why this time was different. Maybe it was the angle of the sun or the fact that her shorts had ridden up a little too high…but I saw it.
No, not it.Them.
Long silver slices, all over her inner thighs like someone had used her to keep score, tally mark style. I would’ve thought they were stretch marks, but they were too thin and precise. Sharp like a knife. They weren’t fresh, but they weren’t old enough to be forgotten either.
I was so shook by the sight that I almost forgot to catch her.
“Cash!” Mom yelled just in time and I scooped Charlie up on reflex. I cradled her against my chest, eyes burning. Ready to fight the world for her and never let her out of my reach at the same time. She wiggled free, and I stared at her, shocked, forgetting about the rolling cameras.
Over her shoulder, she tossed me a wink as if to remind me what we were doing. Then she swam away. My chest felt like it was about to explode, and suddenly, filming a music video was the last thing I wanted to do. I dove in, following her.
I should’ve shoved it all down, worried about it later. But I wasn’t that good of an actor yet and if I didn’t get some of these emotions out, the pain would bleed over on screen, which meant more takes. I couldn’t kiss her on repeat and pretend it was all business. Not after what I just saw. This needed to be a one-take kiss. A kiss so good Bennett couldn’t possibly think we might do better a second time around.
Four cameramen waited for us in the alcove, bent over at odd angles. Seven more cameras were mounted in various places on the ceiling and walls. Charlie surfaced, water cascading down her face, her eyes dark with mischief.
She stifled a shriek as I yanked her against me. My arms curled around her back and I looked into her beautiful doe eyes. Her fingers skimmed up my chest, a slow, teasing drag that sent heat coiling through me. She paused at my shoulders, then slid into my hair, her grip tightening as if to steady herself.
I tipped my forehead against hers. We stood there, eyes closed, nose to nose, water lapping at our backs, breath intermingling. Her fingers twirled the curls at the nape of my neck. It should’ve calmed me. But there was a storm building under my skin. How could someone do that to her? TomyCharlie? She deserved so much better.
Show her.Put it all into the kiss, a voice boomed in my head.
I heaved her up, smashing her against the pool wall. Her legs wrapped around my waist and she looked into my eyes, shocked, but here for it.
I sucked in a breath, done fighting the words I’d wrestled to keep just beneath the surface my entire life. Words sheneededto hear. “I love you, Charlie,” they finally tore free. “Every song I’ve ever written is for you.”
She stared at me, stunned. Her mouth parted like she might say something, but I didn’t let her. I kissed her first.
She hung there, legs locked around my waist, rigid and unmoving. For two fearful heartbeats, I thought she wasn’t going to kiss me back and I’d have to face the humiliation of being rejected by the love of my life as Bennett forced us to do this again and again until we got it right.
And then—like a puzzle piece snapping into place—she moved. Her arms tangled around my neck as she pulled herself flush against me, her breath hitching as she gave in. Her fingers sank into my hair, lips trembling against mine, pressing and retreating like she couldn’t get close enough.
My blood heated, my pulse roaring in my ears. But it had nothing on the hormones surging through my veins in a relentless, pounding tide. I pinned her against the side of the pool, chasing the heat between us. As her tongue slid against mine for the first time in four torturous years, I slapped a hand against the wall to keep us upright, drunk off the euphoria.
“Hot damn!” Bowen hooted.
“No tongue!” Bennett shouted. “It doesn’t look good on camera.”
But I didn’t give a flip and I guess Charlie didn’t either. She met me stroke for stroke, her tongue sweeping against mine in a slick, dizzying rhythm that had my knees threatening to buckle.
“Eeewww,” Charlie’s brother Tristan said way too close. I peeked an eye open to see him peering in at us, along with Charlie’s little sister Emily, and our cousin, Bronco.
“Git back from there,” Granny said and they were yanked from view.
I leaned into the kiss, matching Charlie, who hadn’t let up a bit.
