out here, and with the storm approaching, it’s getting humid. The sun is still beating down on us for now, and once we hit the fishing area of the lake, the heat will get to us all, I’m sure.
“You going to see your girlfriend later?” Mason asks Jacob.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, dumbass.” Jacob finishing his drink and tosses the empty bottle into the little recycling bin we have on board.
“Ah, right. Mr. Ed is your boyfriend.”
“Hilarious,” Jacob deadpans, knowing his lack of reaction will only piss Mason off even more.
“Are you dating anyone?” Rory asks, trying to come off as casual. “I have some single friends if not.”
“No,” Jacob tells her. “You are not setting me up with anyone, and don’t all your friends live in Indiana by you now?”
“Yeah, but maybe you’ll fall so madly in love you’ll want to move!”
Jacob cocks an eyebrow. “And leave my own practice? She could come here instead.”
“Maybe, but you’ll never know if you don’t get out there and try.”
Jacob looks at me and sighs. “They’re both still single too, you know.”
“Yeah,” Rory agrees. “But I’m going with the brother I have the best odds to match someone to. Mason is, well, Mason, and Sam is getting old yet refuses to believe it.”
“I’m the same age as your husband,” I remind her.
Rory looks at Dean, making a face as she slowly nods. “I know, and trust, me, I remind him all the time how lucky he is to snag a younger woman.”
“So much younger,” Dean says dryly as he puts his arm around Rory. “And I’m going to risk siding with your brothers for once,” he goes on, looking at Rory. “Quinn used to try to set me up all the time and it was annoying,” he says, speaking about his own sister. “Really annoying.”
“Fine,” Rory huffs. Yawning, she rests her head against Dean’s shoulder. I slowly drink my beer, watching the lake whiz by, and the hot air slaps us in the face when we slow to make our way through the other part of the lake.
Rory pokes me, getting my attention. She points to a coastal-style house along the lake. It has a private dock, and a woman is lying out on it, long legs stretched out on her lounge chair. Her dark red hair is gathered up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she has a book open over her face, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“I think that’s Chloe!” Rory whispers, though there’s no way the woman on the dock can hear us…I think. Almost choking on the mouthful of beer I just took, I cough, sputtering to turn and inconspicuously stare at the woman on the dock.
It is her. It has to be. And—fuck—even from here, I can tell time has done Chloe well.
“What makes you think that?” Dean asks, thankfully since I’m still not able to find my voice.
“Her dad lives in that house,” Rory says, continuing to whisper. “She bought it for him a few years ago.”
Right as we’re passing by, Chloe sits up, blinking in the bright sunlight. My heart skips a beat in my chest, and I don’t know what I want more: for her to look our way or completely ignore us. She reaches down and picks up her sunglasses from the dock and puts them on. She’s smiling, I can tell from here, and stands, bringing her phone to her ear.
Fuck, she looks good, and I feel like I did the summer I turned eighteen and Chloe went boating with us. I was so attracted to her it was hard to be around her. She was sixteen. I was eighteen. I knew I couldn’t pull her around to the side of the boat and kiss her like I wanted to, and as a horny teenager, the sight of her in a yellow bikini was enough to get me hard. I avoided her the best I could, and she cried the next day, thinking I didn’t want to be her friend anymore.
If only she knew.
Chloe brings one hand to her face, shielding the sun from her vision, and looks out at the lake. Rory makes a move to stand and wave to her, but Chloe turns at the last second. Relief washes over me, quickly followed by disappointment.
What the fuck?
I tell myself it’s a good thing. That I really do want her to completely ignore us because there’s no fucking point in a forced and awkward hello.
But