Dane waded into the lake, pushing his inflatable tube, the bottom half of his T-shirt sticking to his stomach and hips. He watched as Wren boosted herself into her donut tube, her pretty, transparent cover-up not hiding much of her toned, bikinied, dancer’s body. He looked away, glad that the darkness hid his semi. A week had passed since the ice cream event, and at dance practice, he’d kept his distance. It had been hell.
Not only because he missed Wren, but because, and despite not wanting to, he’d sat through two excruciating therapy sessions with the Humanatus psychologist. And instead of exercising to relieve what felt like ants were crawling under his skin, he’d sat with his emotions. They hadn’t been fun company.
Like him, Wren needed time to process. And to decide.
She’d surprised him when she’d walked up to him yesterday after practice, her water bottle in her hand. “Doing anything tomorrow night?” she asked, her words more rushed than normal. After he told her no, she spoke again. “Want to watch a movie with me?”
He met her eyes, needing to know where her head was at. “Made a decision, then?” he asked.
She shook her head, and her expression turned stubborn. “No, and I don’t have to. He can wait, and if you don’t want to spend time with me, say so.”
He admired the fact that she was standing her ground, with him and with dickface. And he wasn’t stupid enough to push her. If she wanted to spend time with him, he was going to say yes.
So here he was, about to watchThe Shining. He’d read and loved the book, and seen the movie years ago, but he’d never imagined watching it again—floating on a not-so-firm inflatable donut on the lake, the big screen glowing on the shore, sound booming from two massive speakers, and next to a woman he was, admittedly, a little obsessed with.
Dane handed Wren the cooler he’d brought and the container of popcorn drizzled with red syrup meant to look like blood. He boosted himself into the tube, his ass hitting the thankfully warm water, and looked over at the dark lake stretching into the distance, the nearly full moon hanging low in the sky. It was a pretty night, calm and clear and so warm, perfect for a lake-based, outdoor movie night. Naturally, the weather would never have the balls to defy Luna by misbehaving.
He shook his head at the witches’ hats, the stuffy black cats and the skeletons sitting with humans on their inflatables. H-Town tourists and residents took Halloween a bit too seriously.
Dane swished his hands through the water and came up alongside Wren, took the cooler from her, and placed it between his thighs. His breath hitched at her joyful expression. She was loving this.
“Having fun?” he asked.
She grinned at him, and his stomach did a backflip. “Isn’t this the best? It’s been ages since they’ve had a lakeside movie night, and even longer since I was at one. I think I was sixteen and came here with… God, what was his name? His tube collapsed.”
Dane scowled. “I can’t guarantee that won’t happen to me, either,” he said, his ass now deeper in the lake than it was before. Wiggling his foot, he told her to grab it. “I’ll pull you into position.”
With Wren holding his foot, he dragged his hands through the water to position them at the back of the many other boats and inflatables. He should’ve organized a canoe or a paddleboard. Something that wasn’t in danger of sinking.
“You’ll be fine,” Wren assured him. “It’s stronger than it looks.”
“I doubt that,” he told her.
Coming across three empty tubes, he frowned. “Why are there empty floats on the water?” he asked.
“Probably kids messing around,” Wren replied. “Look, Tad and Gina are in the float in front of us.”
Dane eyed the teenagers and grimaced. He really didn’t want to see them getting handsy every time he dropped his eyes from the screen. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Tad was about to hit second base.
“Tad!” The kids shot up and looked around, instantly alert. In the dim light, he saw their wide eyes and flushed faces. They both turned to him and Wren, identical expressions of defiance and chagrin.
“Dude, there’s a time and place,” Dane said, using his I-am-a-God-in-my-operating-room voice. “This isnotthe timenorthe place.”
Tad swallowed and ducked his head. “Yes, sir,” he muttered.
They turned away, both with folded arms and red faces. Dane leaned sideways and spoke in Wren’s ear, conscious that sound carried clearly across water. “I hope they have a condom and know how to use it.”
Wren grinned. “You should ask him,” she suggested, her smile naughty.
“That’s family-medicine shit and I’d rather stab myself in the eye,” he replied. Water was now lapping his hips. “I swear this boat is losing air.”
Wren squeezed the rim of his inflatable and winced. “I think it is.”
He swore and looked toward the bank, where only one double inflatable remained on the bank. If he didn’t get there fast, they’d be shit out of luck. “I’m going to swim to shore to grab that double inflatable,” he told her.
“There are three behind us,” Wren told him. “Just hop into one of those.”
Dane looked around.Huh. The three empty inflatables were now a long way from them, at least double the distance from where he was to the shore. Weird because they’d been just behind them a few minutes ago. It would be far quicker to swim to shore than to rescue the boats. And if Tad got too handsy, he’d send him to bring them in. A swim would cool him down.
