Page 29 of Barefoot Lake

I hurry out of my room and down the stairs as quickly as I can, sliding across the wooden floor in my socks and grabbing the doorknob to stop myself. I fling open the door.

“Jake! What’s —” The number of times this man has left me speechless is abnormally high for having known him only two days, but this time it’s really not my fault. How is somebody supposed to react when their neighbor is standing outside their home before sunrise looking like a drowned cat, right down to the irritated expression?

“Um… Jake? Why are you all wet? And why are you here?”

“Well, Ace, it’s a hilarious story. Did you know that my boat went for a little joyride by itself last night? Most boats tend to stay put, but I guess mine is just friendly. Wanted to hang out with Grateful Bob. Usually, I put a stop to that kind of behavior by tying it up, but somehow it got out. You wouldn’t have any idea how that could have happened, would you?”

Both of my hands steadily creep up to cover my mouth as he tells his story. The rope. I pull my hands away.

“Oh my god, Jake. I’m so sorry!”

Embarrassment fills my entire body, and my heart drops into my stomach, thudding with the realization of what I did and what it caused.

“But wait, there’s more!” he says like a game show host. “After I went to get it back, in the freezing cold, with Scott, who tried to take the blame for this little getaway stunt, the klutz basically shoulder checks me into the water. It’s certainly one way to make sure I’m wide awake, but I’ll admit, it’s not my favorite.”

Despite my guilt, a laugh bursts out of me. I snap my mouth shut at his quick glare. “I’m sorry!” I’m a little frantic, still in shock that I was such an idiot. I start rambling.

“I was being so careful, I swear. But then Reid called me, and I was not expecting to hear from him again. Then Piper needed me to take her to the bus station, and I didn’t want her to be late. If she missed her bus, she’d have missed work, and she has this awful new boss who I know wouldn’t have given her any slack. I’m so, so sorry.”

Jake smacks his hands against the door frame and leans in, keeping fierce eye contact.

“You can’t keep not tying up boats! It’s irresponsible, but it’s also dangerous! Somebody could have gotten hurt, or there could have been some serious damage to the boat or somebody else’s property!”

For a few seconds, the only sounds between us are the steady drips of lake water falling from Jake onto the wooden steps and his heavy breathing.

I make an enormous mistake when I let my eyes follow a drop of water from his hair straight down to the porch and see his sweats are basically plastered to him, and his chest is heaving. He’s such a large man, and Piper’s comment about me climbing him like a tree flashes in my mind. I look back at his face as quickly as I can, but I can already feel the heat rushing to my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks, and his expression softens the tiniest amount.

He lifts his left hand and runs it through his hair.

Lord, help me.

He looks down at himself for a second before coming back at me with that intense eye contact.

“I fell in the lake.”

Another laugh forces its way out of me, no matter how hard I try to hold it back. I look down, ashamed, and try to compose myself when I hear a deep laugh. I glance up to see Jake pressing a fist to his forehead, smiling.

“I fell in the fucking lake.”

Next thing I know, we’re both in stitches, gasping for air. I open the door further and step back into it, holding my side.

“Come in, please. I’ll get you a towel.”

Jake squeezes out the sides of his sweatshirt and water splashes around him. He steps forward but tries to make himself as small as possible on the mat just inside the door.

I hurry upstairs and come back with two large, fluffy towels and a fleece blanket. I hold the towels out to him, but he peels off his sweatshirt instead of taking them, and I freeze. His t-shirt sticks to the sweatshirt at first, lifting up until Jake peels it back down. I expect I resemble a fish, openly ogling my neighbor.

Every inch of him looks perfectly… firm. What does he do at that nursery? Bench press tree trunks?

I think I forget to breathe for a second.

He finally takes a towel from my hand and begins squeezing water out of his clothes with it as best he can. When he turns to the side, I get my first look at a tattoo covering the upper half of his left arm. It’s our lake with tree-covered hills on the opposite bank, tattooed in all black. Above it is a gorgeous night sky with a full moon and stars that look like they could twinkle at any moment.

It’s this moment when I notice Jake has stopped moving and is observing me. I shake my head quickly.