She takes a few steps forward, kicking at one end with her foot. The log shifts but not easily.
“It actually seems a little lighter than I thought it would,” she says, toeing it again and watching how the other end interacts with the water wheel.
“You are not getting in that stream,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes, taking a step away from the water and removing her shoes.
“Eve,” I scold. “You literally just got over a bad cold because you ran yourself down playing outside wet and cold. I’m not about to let you do the same thing all over again.”
“Moving one log isn't going to wear me down enough to get re-sick,” she says, pulling her socks down over her legs and depositing them on top of her boots.
She takes a few steps toward the stream, dipping her toes in the water, and shivers. “Oh, that’s cold.”
I shake my head, accepting the fact that I apparently don’t get to hang out with Eve Harper without—for some reason or another—ending up in the goddamn stream.
“Jesus Christ, Eve,” I swear, kicking my own shoes off next to hers. “Put your damn shoes on. I’ll do it.”
She raises her eyebrows, watching as I take my own shoes off and then add my pants to the pile.
She blinks, her eyes dipping for only a moment before I start wading in.
“Every time I see you, I end up in this stupid stream,” I mumble, taking one careful step after another into the stream gunk. “At least you’ve graduated from pushing me in and are now using some more strategic tactics to get me in here.”
She snorts. “I don’t know. I’m starting to think maybe you have a stream kink.”
I pause, turning back to face her. “I can tell you with complete certainty that I do not have a stream kink. My balls are the size of walnuts right now thanks to the fucking temperature of this water.”
“I tried going in there first,” she says, throwing her arms out to either side of her as I reach the log.
“And why do I get the idea thatof courseyou tried going in there first because you knew that after the past few days there’s no way I’d let you, soI’dundoubtedly be the one wading in to remove the goddamn log?”
When she doesn’t say anything, I turn to her, worried I goaded her too hard.
But she only smiles, giving me a quick shrug that tells me I called it.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I tell her, as I lean down to wrap an arm around the log.
The water isn’t deep here by any means, but I can see from the water lines along the stone that it was much higher over the past few days. Where it really only comes up to my knees now, I would have been at least waist-deep during the storm, if not deeper.
And if I can just pull this end of the log one foot closer to myself, the water wheel will be free to move again.
With a sharp tug, I get it loose and drop it as gracefully as I can into the water, making sure it settles before I try to move around it and out of the stream.
And a moment later, the water wheel creaks to life.
When I turn to Evie, the grin on her face makes the whole thing worth it.
I wade toward her, taking careful, shuffling steps through the water.
“You did it!” she shouts, rocking up onto the balls of her feet impatiently. She rushes to me once my feet hit dry land, wrapping her arms around my middle. “I really thought I was going to have to obsess about that all night. Or pull around one of the machines myself to try to pull that out. Oh man, I was trying to do math on how quickly silt can build up under there and prevent the wheel from moving even when wedoget the log out.” She lets out a long breath. “Thank you. For once again ending up in my stream.”
I nod, eyeing my jeans because now that the log has been moved, it feels incredibly weird to be pantsless at a party, even if this area is about as peaceful and secluded as it can be. “Anything for you, Evie.”
That, and Evie’s hug is giving my body some wild ideas that jeans can usually cover up a lot better than underwear.
But rather than letting me go, she rests her head on my chest.
And yeah, I think I’d choose a hug from Evie over pants any day.
