My gaze goes back to Harris, who continues to flail.
Still, he seems to be hanging on.
“My God—his ribs must be so sore,” I muse with sympathy. “He is going to be such a mess tomorrow.”
“Poor bastard. He’s taking one for the team.”
I give her another look. “You know he’s here today because he respects you. It has nothing to do with me.” I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her close. “You did this—all of this is amazing becauseof you. Yeah, they’re nice to look at, and it’s fun. But they wouldn’t be here without you.”
“Stop. You’re making me blush.”
But I don’t stop. She obviously needs to hear it. “I’m not kidding. You’re running the show. You’re a badass, and someone is going to sweep you off your feet if you don’t beat them to it. It just won’t be with a log.”
Annabelle scrunches up her nose. “You think?”
“I know.” I squish her. “It’s going to be your antihero: tall, dark, handsome.”
“Ohh, a Viking would be perfect.”
Before I can say more, there’s a loud splash from the lake, followed by a chorus of shouts and laughter.
Both our eyes go wide, and my hand goes over my mouth. “Oh God, that looked horrible!”
Harris bobs in the water, sputtering, hair plastered to his forehead; he looks more like a drowned rat than a man who’s doing a massive favor for my best friend while injured.
“Bless his heart, he stayed on an entire forty seconds.”
“You think it’s been that long?”
“Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.” Annabelle giggles, then glances at me with a smirk. “Look at you, ready to run over there with that towel like a doting wifey.”
I shove her, but I’m already moving toward him, towel in hand as Harris hefts himself out of the water to the roar of the crowd, dripping wet and grinning like he just won an Olympic medal.
So hot.
He ignores the outstretched towel I’m offering him. One arm hooks around my waist, the other under my thighs, and suddenly, I’m being carried under protest. My squeal echoes across the bleachers as he hoists me up against his chest, my legs flailing as I cling to his shoulders.
“Harris, put me down!” I shriek, laughter bubbling up as cold water from his soaked shirt seeps through mine, chilling my skin. “You’re getting me wet!”
“Don’t get mad,” he says, his grin wicked, eyes glinting with that familiar, dangerous mischief. “The crowd is gonna love this.”
Then he’s charging toward the water’s edge, gripping me tightly as I try to wiggle free, screaming the entire way. “Harris, no!”
He holds me close, muscles tensing beneath my hands as he takes a running leap off the dock.
And then we’re airborne.
My stomach flips. Lurches from the jump.
Water rushes to meet us, and we hit the surface with a splash so loud it drowns out the cheers and laughter echoing from the shore.
Glub . . . glub . . .
Glub.
Cold water engulfs me, rushing up my nose and filling my ears. Free from his arms, I resurface, sputtering, my once cute hair now plastered to my face. Harris bobs up beside me, water streaming down his face, grinning like a maniac.
I want to strangle him.
