“Unless they pay,” he adds with a scoff. His eyes slide over to Derek, narrowing slightly. “What if I pay too? Whatever he gave you to be on your boat, I’ll match it.”
This isn’t a good time to mention Derek’s hundred-grand contribution to Red Earth’s bank account, even if I’d like to see Brody’s eyes bug out of his head. He hates Derek as it is, and I doubt Derek having throwaway money like that will help Brody’s opinion.
“Sorry,” I say again and stand, hoping it signals Brody to get off my boat and back to shore where he belongs. “It’s hard enough for Derek to find a place to sit, and I guarantee you’ll have a lot more fun on one of the other boats.”
Brody stands too, filling me with relief for half a second until he shifts forward, his hand cupping my elbow and making me tense. “I highly doubt that, Donovan. I’m not Derek Riley, but you and I could haveso much funtogether.”
Is he serious? I’m so thrown by his boldness that I just gape at him. “Was my ‘no’ back in Moab not enough for you?” I ask, feeling suddenly lightheaded as I take in the hunger-driven gleam in his eyes.
He chuckles, sliding his hand up my arm. “That was before we knew each other. Before I knew you were open to secret rendezvous.”
I stare at his fingers as they trail up my skin, my jaw tight and my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Brody, stop touching me.”
To my utter surprise, he does, pulling his hand from my arm. But then he leans closer, forcing me to lean back to keep some distance between our faces. I would take a step, but there’s nothing but a deep and rocky river with a strong current past the tube of the boat behind me, and this is not a place I want to fall in. I’m standing in the most solid spot I’ve got unless I make a dash to the shore. Tempting, but I’ll save that as a last resort. I’d rather stand my ground.
“I’ve seen the way you throw yourself at Riley,” he says in a sickly sweet voice that makes my skin crawl. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re not interested in a hookup, and I guarantee I’ve got moves you’ve never—”
“This conversation is over,” I say sharply and turn to cross the boat back to the beach.
“Ah come on, give me a chance!” Brody follows me. His hurried movement jerks the boat, knocking me off balance, and though he grabs my wrist—to catch me, I would hope—my hand slips from his grip with a sharp, painful pop. My ankle catches on the oar behind me, and I tumble backward, bracing myself for impact.
The river softens my fall for the most part, but my shoulder hits a submerged rock hard, knocking the breath out of me and filling my mouth with water. My foot slips on the rocks beneath me, sending me back underwater and forcing another frantic gulp of water into my lungs. I scramble for something to hold but everything is slimy. My lungs burn. Am I going downstream? The current is too strong here, what if—
Someone grabs me, and my face breaks the surface of the water. I gasp for air but can only cough as my body tries to expel the water I breathed. I flail, trying to gain my footing, but strong arms hold me tight at my back and under my legs.
“I’ve got you,” a soft voice says.
It’s the familiar voice that jars me out of panic, and though I can’t stop coughing, I stare up into Mason’s warm eyes. “Thanks,” I gasp.
“GoGo,” Mason says as he leans toward the shore, though the current is too swift for him to get far. At least he has a solid footing.
Thiago reaches his hand out to me, and I gratefully take it, eager to be on dry land. But the instant he pulls, pain laces up my arm and I cry out, jerking my wrist out of his hold with a curse and shutting my eyes against the dizzying pain. As soon as the world stops spinning, I give him my other hand and let him help me over the rocks and onto the sand.
Dropping to my knees, Thiago’s hand on my back, I keep coughing until my lungs feel raw, then I sink down and roll onto my back, my eyes shut tight against the sun as I try to breathe. Calm down.
“Donovan!” Brody’s voice is the last thing I want to hear right now and makes my nerves spike. “Donovan, I’m so sorry!”
“Just stop,” someone snaps at him. Maverick, maybe? Don’t know, don’t care.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Where are you hurt?” That’s Farah, and I reluctantly open my eyes to meet her gaze. She’s kneeling at my side, her expression serious as Mason and Thiago gesture for the guests to give us some space.
I can’t help it—my eyes search for Derek. He’s not far from where he was standing before, locked in Hunter’s hold in a way that makes it clear he’s been fighting to get free. He’s motionless now, his eyes frantic and fixed on me as he struggles to breathe just like me, but then his gaze shifts somewhere above my head and turns murderous, and Hunter has to tighten his hold when he starts fighting again.
A shiver runs through me.
“Donovan?” Farah says.
“I think I’m just bruised,” I croak, rolling my shoulder a bit as I reluctantly look away from Derek’s fury. I can already feel a giant lumpgrowing between me and the hard sand beneath me, but it could be worse. I’ll be stiff by the end of the day, but I can still move it.
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.” I’m lucky, with how many rocks were under the water. “Really, I’m—”
“Check her wrist,” Mason says.
Even as Farah takes hold of my right hand, I cough and roll my eyes. “I’m fi—ow!”
