What have we done?
This party is getting reckless, wild… out of control.
The music is pounding between my ears, the drumbeat pulsing right through me. The lyrics and melody? Can’t even make them out. I don’t know what we’re listening to, but I don’t like it.
Add to that the chaotic laughter and voices rising on a continual crescendo, and for just a minute, I wonder if my parents’ stuffy event would have been a better option tonight.
I’m so out of my depth here, I’m metaphorically drowning.
I feel like I’m having to monitor everyone to make sure nothing gets broken and everyone stays safe.
Why’d I come this weekend?
Why am I?—
My question stops dead in my head when I spot an obviously drunk girl tottering along the edge of the jetty. Her short dress rises in the wind, flashing me her hot pink thong. I blink and flush, jerking my eyes away, but…
No one seems to be watching her. They’re all too busy throwing back drinks and laughing, or making out or… okay, I don’t even know what those guys are doing.
I look away from them and start heading toward the girl in her skimpy dress and heels that are so not made for walking on planks of wood, and yep… I’m right.
The thin heel of her shoe gets caught between two of them, and with a little yelp, she’s tipping sideways, landing in the water with a splash.
I pick up my pace, weaving around people who are too trashed or preoccupied to notice her.
She’s drunk.
Can drunk people swim?
How would I know? I never spend any time around them! Not really. Sure, Mac gets wasted, but it’s usually in his apartment, and all I have to do is make sure he doesn’t face-plant on the floor.
This lake house is hazardous.
She hasn’t surfaced yet.
Why hasn’t she?—
I start running just as her head pops above the water. She gasps and flails her arms, her head ducking below the surface again.
She can’t swim?
With a soft growl, I jump down the stairs and hit the jetty with quick, long strides. Kicking off my shoes, I dive into the lake as soon as it’s safe and cut through the water to reach her. It doesn’t take much. She’s managed to kick herself farther away from safety, but not by much.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her as soon as I wrap my arm around her waist.
She’s panicking, gulping down mouthfuls of water, then spitting them out. Coughing and spluttering all over me, she wraps her skinny arm around my neck and clings.
“Help me,” she wails, her shaking legs wrapping around my hips.
“I am.” My voice is so deep and calm compared to hers. “You’re okay.”
Swimming us back to the jetty, I make sure she’s holding on to the side before pulling myself out. My clothes are waterlogged, and for some reason, all I can hear is my mother’s voice in my head, telling me off for being reckless and ruining my new shorts.
Will I ever be free of that woman?
Trying to shove thoughts of her aside, I reach down and hook my hands under the girl’s armpits, lifting her out of the water. She’s a lightweight, so it’s not that hard. Fat streams of lake water cascade off her saturated dress. It clings to her every curve, and it’s impossible not to notice how hot she is.
As soon as she’s on solid ground, one of her heels lost to the lake, she wraps her arms around me and starts crying.
