“Wear my shirt,” he offers, which shocks me, so I wait a second for him to tell me he was joking, but he doesn’t. “Go on, just wear my shirt. It will be long enough for you to wear in here and you can keep your bra and panties on, if you wish,” he says with a smile. I take his advice and stop thinking.
“Fine, but turn around and do not look at me while I am changing—I mean it!” I try my best to be intimidating, but he just laughs. He turns around and faces the opposite direction, so I lift my shirt over my head and grab his as quickly as I can. Slipping it on, I can tell he was right, since it reaches down to the middle of my thighs. I can’t help but admire the way his shirt smells, like faint cologne mixed with a smell I can only describe as Hardin.
“Hurry the hell up or I will turn around,” he says, and I wish I had a stick to throw at his head. I unbutton my jeans and step out of them. Folding my jeans and shirt neatly, I put them next to my shoes on the grass. Hardin turns around and I tug at the bottom of his black T-shirt, trying to pull it as far as it will go.
His eyes widen and I watch them rake down my body. He takes his lip ring between his teeth and I notice his cheeks flush. He must be cold, because I know it couldn’t possibly be me he is reacting to.
“Um . . . come in the water, yeah?” he says, his voice raspier than usual. I nod and walk slowly to the bank. “Just jump in!”
“I am! I am!” I yell nervously, and he laughs.
“Get a little running start.”
“Okay.” I step back a little and start to run. I feel foolish, but I am not letting my tendency to overthink ruin this. As I reach my last stride, I look at the water and stop with my feet right on the edge.
“Oh come on! You were off to such a good start!” His head falls back in laughter, and he looks adorable.
Hardin, adorable?
“I can’t!” I am not sure what is stopping me; the water is deep enough to jump in, but not too deep. The water in the spot where Hardin is standing goes only to his chest, which means it would reach just under my chin.
“Are you afraid?” His tone is calm but serious.
“No . . . I don’t know. Sort of,” I admit and he walks through the water toward me.
“Sit on the edge and I’ll help you in.”
I sit down and close my legs tightly so he doesn’t see my panties. Noticing this, he grins as he reaches me. His hands grip my thighs and once again I am on fire. Why does my body have to respond to him this way? I’m trying to make us friends, so I need to ignore the fire. He moves his hands to my waist and asks, “Ready?”
As soon as I nod yes, he is lifting me and pulling me into the water, water that’s warm and feels amazing against my hot skin. Hardin lets me go too soon and I stand up in the water. We are closer to the bank so it only reaches just below my chest.
“Don’t just stand there,” he says mockingly, and I ignore him but do walk out a little. The T-shirt bubbles up from the water going under it and I yelp and pull it down. Once it’s positioned, it promises to stay put for the most part.
“You could just take it off,” he says with a smirk and I splash at him. “Did you just splash me?” He laughs and I nod, splashing at him again. He shakes his wet head and lunges for me under the water. His long arms hook around my waist and pull me under. My hand flies up to plug my nose; I haven’t mastered swimming without my nose plugged. When we emerge, Hardin is cracking up, and I can’t help but laugh with him. I am actually having fun, real fun, not that average watching-a-good-movie fun.
“I can’t decide which is more amusing: the fact that you are actually having a good time or the fact that you have to plug your nose underwater,” he says through his laughter.