Porter stares at me.
“Mom lunged for the gun, so he missed most of my vital organs. I bled a lot. ?ey had to sew up some stuff. My lung collapsed. I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks.”
His shoulders sag. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You’re the rst person I’ve told. My classmates heard, but my mom put me in another school after it happened. Anyway, there you go. Told you I was screwed up,” I say, giving him a small smile.
He curls his hand around my waist, rubbing from the front scar to the back. “?ank you for telling me. For showing me.”
“?anks for not making it weird. I don’t want it to be a big deal anymore, you know? ?at’s why I wanted to show you. Out here in the sun.”
“I get it,” he says. “I totally get it.”
I lean forward and press my lips against the sweet dip where his collarbones meet. He pushes back my hair with his palm and kisses me in the middle of my forehead, both eyelids, on the tip of my nose. ?en he pulls me tight against him and folds me up in his arms. I breathe him into my lungs as deeply as I can, all his sun-burnished, warm goodness. ?ank you, thank you, thank you, I try to tell him with my body. And from the way he’s holding me—like I’m a whole person, not a broken toy—I think he understands.
“Does this mean you want to stop our game now?” he murmurs after a time.
I tilt my head back to see his face. “Are you chickening out on me?”
He grins that slow and cocky grin of his and pushes me back until I’m an arm’s length away. “Both at the same time, on the count of three.”
“Not fair! I’ve got two pieces of clothing left.”
“I’ll close my eyes until you say I can open them. One, two …”
With a euphoric cry, I fumble with my bra strap and strip off my underwear. I did it!
“Holy shit, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Cheater.” I’m 100 percent naked. On a public beach. And more important, I don’t care, because Porter’s taken off his clothes too, and that’s far more interesting than any eeting sense of modesty I have. Because he’s naked. And he’s gorgeous.
And he’s very excited about our mutual sans-clothing situation.
“Oh,” I say, looking down between us.
“I’m pretty proud of that,” he admits with a smile, urging my hand forward. When I touch him, he stands on tiptoes for a moment and looks like he might pass out, which makes me very excited about our mutual sans-clothing situation.
“Now I’m thinking about the back of the camper van,” I say.
He blows out a hard breath and pushes my hand away. “I think that’s a dicey idea. Maybe we should get dressed rst. God, you’re so beautiful.”
“You mentioned that.”
“Let me look at you some more rst. I need to memorize all of you for later. In case I never get to see this again. Shit. I can’t believe you talked me into …” His eyes are heavy-lidded. “?is is either the best or worst idea I’ve ever agreed to. You’re killing me, Bailey Rydell.”
“I know you’ve got condoms in that rst-aid kit.”
A wave crashes again the rock bridge.
“Bailey …”
“Porter.”
“It might be terrible. Trust me, I have experience in these matters.”
“It might not, though, right?”
Seagulls circle overhead, squawking.
