“No such thing,” I tell him, biting his bottom lip. “Although I hope you didn’t leave my grandmother on the side of the road,” I say. “I’m somewhat attached to her.”
“She’s playing cards. I’ll pick her up in a few hours.”
“And do you have any ideas for how we should spend that time?”
“I just wanted to hang out with you,” he says. “Before I go.”
Putting on a movie and making out like teenagers on the couch would be fun enough, but tonight I want to behave like the thirty-three-year-old woman I am. I unwind myself from Charlie, thrill bubbling beneath my skin. “I have a better idea,” I tell him, taking his hand.
I’m going to see if I can find the limits of Charlie’s self-control.
I pull my shirt over my head as I walk down the stairs to the lake. The water is quiet. The sun has dropped beneath the hill. There’s no one around to see what I’m about to do, but my heart is hammering in my chest.
I reach around my back to unhook my bra.
“What are you doing?” Charlie says from behind me.
I look over my shoulder instead of responding and drop it on the dock.
“Number ten?” he asks, his voice thick.
“Number ten,” I say, turning back to the water. “And twelve.” If this isn’t reckless, I don’t know what is. I slide my sweatpants down my legs. I hear Charlie suck in a breath. We haven’t seen each other undressed.
I walk to the end of the dock, slip off my underwear, and stand, naked, at the edge. Somewhere behind me, Charlie swears.
I take a moment to look back at him. His chest rises and falls as his gaze journeys from my shoulders, down past the flare of my hips, lower, lapping up every inch.
“Eyes up,” I tell him.
“You’re playing dirty.” He looks to the sky and whispers a few words I cannot hear.
I turn back to the water and breathe in the crisp evening air, letting it caress my skin, and then I dive in. I’ve never gone skinny-dipping before, and I can’t believe how good it feels. I swim beneath the surface as far as I can before coming up for air, and then turn to find Charlie on the dock, staring at me in wonder.
“Are you coming?” I ask.
I see the flash of hesitation.
“I thought you were supposed to be shy,” he says.
“I thought you were supposed to be bad,” I fire back.
He closes his eyes, tilts his head to the heavens, and laughs.
Click.
“You’re even more trouble than I thought,” he says, and then, looking me square in the eyes, he pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans.
From here to the end of time, the image of Charlie Florek standing naked in midsummer twilight will be one of my most prized possessions.
I paddle a little closer, drinking him in. He watches me watch him, smug as a person who looks as good naked as he does ought to look.
“Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there showing off?”
“I’m just trying to remember the moment,” he says.
“What moment is that, exactly?”
Charlie dives in, and I watch him glide underwater until he reaches me.
