“Also intentional.”
Briggs looked delighted. “See? I told you. Hostile swimwear.”
Easton ignored him. “You swimming?”
I glanced at the lake behind him, darkening beneath the sunset. “Do I look like I came here to participate in nature?”
“You’re at a lake.”
“I’m at a party that happens to have one.”
“That’s a no?”
“That’s a you-should-learn-to-read-women-better.”
His mouth shifted, faint and dangerous. “I read you fine.”
Well, that was fucking dangerous.
No man should have been able to say something that simple and make it sound like he had both hands on my hips.
I lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head and looked him dead in the eyes. “What are you up to, Easton?”
His name did the same thing it had done the first night we made out on the Hockey House porch. His gaze sharpened, and the party noise seemed to slide back an inch.
“You tend to ask me that a lot,” he said.
“Because you keep requiring supervision.”
“By you?”
“I’d rather drown.”
“Lake’s right there.”
I stepped closer, just enough to make his eyes drop again. “You offering to save me?”
“No.”
My brows lifted.
His gaze held mine. “If you go in, I’m assuming you meant to.”
I laughed, sharp and real before I could stop it.
That was the problem with Easton. He didn’t flirt like a man begging to be chosen. He flirted like he was already interested and was willing to let me decide whether I had the nerve to admit I was too.
Briggs groaned. “I hate to interrupt whatever terrifying foreplay this is, but some of us are trying to maintain a family-friendly bonfire environment.”
Ryan looked around at the half-naked hockey players, beer cans, and a girl doing a handstand near the dock while someone cheered. “This environment has never met a family.”
“Metaphorical family.”
“Still no.”
Bliss grabbed Charm’s hand. “We’re getting food before Briggs tries to grill something that still has packaging on it.”
“That happened one time,” Briggs said.
