The idea of taking him snorkeling hasn’t even crossed my mind. He can almost swim now that he’s not afraid of getting water in his eyes anymore. But snorkeling? I should have thought of that.
What else have I missed? Noah’s not ‘into alphabets’. He can write ‘dad’ and ‘Noah’, but that’s it. His favorite book isDinosaurs Love Underpants.I can’t remember the author, but it definitely wasn’t Hemingway.
I’m spiraling. I can’t stop it. It’s like the walls are closing in on me, the constant comparisons, the passive-aggressive comments about the kids. Why do I care? I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be so affected by this.
That’s when Oliver’s mom breathes in sharply. “Whoa,” she says, shielding her eyes. “Who is that?”
I blink, confused, but follow her gaze.It’s Xaden.Looking like a goddamn Greek statue.
“Holy hell,” someone whispers. “That’s a tall glass of water.”
Xaden’s walking through the shallows, his body wet and glistening under the sun. Shirtless. The water droplets catch the light as they drip off his chest, his tattoos on full display, muscles moving with each step.
My brain flashes back to him leaning in the doorway at Mickey’s, watching me sing like it was meant for him. Of course it was meant for him.
I try not to stare. I fail. My heart starts to pound.
“Is he single?” Oliver’s mom asks, her voice too hopeful.
None of your business, I want to growl.
You don’t know him.You don’t know how kind he is.What he’s been through.
You have no idea.
He used to spend hours fixing his dad’s bike, he saved me muffins at lunch, he whispered the right answers to me if I froze. He defended me against Coach Douglas who always yelled at me about daydreaming in the middle of the field. He gave me his hoodie if he thought I was cold.
So stop ogling him, you… idiots.
That means me, too.
I glance away but it’s hopeless. My gaze returns to him, following his every move. He’s toweling himself, and I shouldn’t be looking, but every nerve in my body is alive.
Every nerve remembers.
It’s blissful agony.
***
Xaden walks in, droplets of water shimmering on his bare chest, a towel slung low on his hips. His hair is wet and messy, and the overall impact is — wow. All I can do is stare.
He glances at me briefly, as if he isn’t aware of the devastating effect he has.
I wasn’t even supposed to be there, I was just getting a hoodie I’d forgotten, but now that I am there, and he is too, and oh my God. My breath’s hitched in my throat.
“See something you like?” he asks casually, like it’s normal for me to be standing there, ogling him. He rummages around in his gym bag for a shirt.
My mouth is dry. Like, medically dry. This should be studied.
I have tried to find the courage to tell Xaden how I feel ever since the dance, but my brain doesn’t function properly when I’m near him.But I want to say it. I need to say it.
So I clear my throat and force the words out.
“Uh… yeah. I do. I like it.”
There. I said it. Out loud. To Xaden Bailey. That I think he’s hot.
Well, what I actually said was ‘I like it’ but maybe he gets it.
