“Your place?” she asked.
“I don’t have a car,” he panted, nipping her jaw.
She pulled back to look at him. “How did you get here?”
“I took a helicopter from the city, then walked from the airport. Marv said he had five other rides before me. So…”
“But it’s after dark in a town that barely has working streetlights,” she said, mimicking the same tone he had used with her outside the Fourth of July party.
He smiled. “Are you trying to convince me to get in your car?”
“It’s a single cab truck. And currently blocked in by my mom.”
“Damn it.”
She leaned her head against his chest. “This is ridiculous.”
“You don’t have an old boathouse packed with surfboards nearby, do you?” he asked.
“No…” Then she lit up. “But I do have a boat.”
She grabbed his hand and led him to the side of the house where her father’s boat sat shrouded in darkness. The lights were off, and at this time of night there was no way her dad would be there, she was sure of it.
“Shit,” Will said as he tripped on a rogue twig. “I can’t see anything.”
“Shhhh.” Lizzy motioned to the windows of her parents’ home.
The rickety wood ladder hung off the side like it was waiting for them. They barely made it up to the deck before Will grabbed her by the waist as she kicked off her sneakers, then followed suit, flinging his shoes off the side of the boat to the grass below. Together they stumbled backward toward the outdoor cushions, which immediately slid off the bench, landing with a smack on the wood deck.
“Damn it.” He laughed, looking up at her from the ground.
“Oh! Right. The cushions aren’t attached,” she said, covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down.
Lizzy let out a shriek and landed on top of him.
“I thought we were supposed to keep the volume down,” he murmured, holding her close so he could kiss her neck.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” she whispered.
“Try.”
She gasped when he started to move his body against hers in a slow, addictive rhythm, as his fingers roamed to the base of her sweatshirt to lift it higher.
She stopped him and leaned back. “This way… bed… follow me.”
Then she took his hand and snuck over to the steps, crouching down so as not to hit her head on anything. The cabin was narrow, barely big enough for one adult, but a full bed fit snugly in its berth. With only a small curtained window to let in any light, Lizzy waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“Watch your—”
Will smacked his head against the low doorframe. “Shit.”
“Step.”
“Where the hell is the light switch?” he murmured.
“No light switch,” she whispered, crawling up onto the bed. “Just follow my voice.” She lifted her hips, pulling off her jeans and kicking them to the floor, sinking back into the boat’s threadbare quilt in only his Columbia sweatshirt and her underwear.
She could just make out his silhouette as he undressed down to his boxers before moving over her again. The bed creaked with his weight, and she felt his body at her side, his warm skin against hers. They were all shadows and figures moving in the dark, feeling their way toward each other.
