Second Dive (Kings of the Water #3) - Jasmin Miller Page 0,26

the guys, my swim buddies Ryan, Jace, and Hunter.

But since Ryan and Jace have found their other halves and welcomed kids into the world, and Hunter’s been more busy than usual too, I haven’t seen as much of them as I used to.

And there really isn’t anyone or anything else.

Sure, there are my parents, but since Daisy and I have left the nest, so to speak, they’ve been traveling the world a lot. Working with charities, making rural areas in Third World countries a better place. Their work is admirable, and important, but it’s definitely not the same without them here.

Which means my life has mostly revolved around watching my family and friends move forward with their lives. Taking steps I once thought I’d someday take too. Witnessing it firsthand has only amplified how stagnant my life has become.

Chloe hiccups. “I’m so incredibly sorry, Noah. I don’t know what to say.”

I hear her words, but my mind is still busy with my latest realization.

Do I have any “old” friends I could add back to my life?

Chloe is an old friend.

Could I ever be friends again with her?

This is messing with my head.

As if to prove a point, she touches my chest, and a current of electricity zaps through my body.

“I can’t believe I made such a mess.”

My thoughts exactly. Although, I’m not sure she’s talking about now or what she did to me ten years ago.

Eleven

Chloe

I didn’t mean to touch him.

I mean, I kind of did, but not in an I-want-to-rub-myself-all-over-him way. But that’s exactly what my body is yelling at me to do right now.

Rubbing, rubbing, and some more rubbing. With lots of touching in between.

Knowing that’s the last thing Noah wants is a huge help though. He’s scowled at me over fifty percent of the time, which is an excellent indicator that we haven’t gotten anywhere.

Not to mention, he openly admitted yesterday that he doesn’t like me.

Can’t get more transparent than that.

But that’s my doing, and I have to live with it.

Obviously, my brilliant idea to give thanks in a small way by offering him some of my smoothie—as strange as that sounds—couldn’t have gone more wrong.

Now we both look like mud monsters, and I’m sure we’ll smell like some sooner or later too.

Somewhere in this whole debacle, I snatched a towel to dabble at his chest. Which I’m still doing. My hands are on autopilot, and I'm not sure there’s an end in sight. Because it’s not awkward enough yet.

But I also haven’t been this close to a guy in way too long, and despite the smoothie-smell—that's slowly taking over my sense buds—I’m weirdly enough enjoying this moment.

Maybe, I should find a therapist here after all. Can’t hurt to check. My last therapist can attest that I'm a stellar client.

“Chloe.” Noah’s raised voice pulls me out of my thoughts, a second before his hands grab my wrists.

He’s touching me, actually touching me—not just pulling me off him or pushing me away—and I shiver, especially when I glance away from the spot where he's holding me and up to his face. Our gazes lock, and I go weak in the knees.

This man has always done it for me. From the first moment until the end, and actually well beyond that. And seeing him again has only confirmed my suspicions from the last few years . . . No other man will ever consume me the way he does.

Too bad I’m not looking for anything long-term. It's just not in the cards for me.

If it was, Noah would definitely be in my number-one spot. That is, if he stopped disliking me and actually wanted me.

Yet, knowing all of that, it’s still impossible to ignore the electricity that almost vibrates under my skin from his touch. His thumb sits right on my pulse point as the current zips its way up my arm and through the rest of my body like it’s supposed to light me up from the inside. Maybe I'll start glowing from the sheer power of it soon.

“Stop rubbing my shirt, it’s fine.” He still isn’t smiling at me, but at least his scowl is gone. Mostly.

The smoothie has started to dry in places, and it looks like we’re having an awkward—and very unplanned—spa day.

Definitely no thanks-so-much-for-everything feelings going on here.

My gaze flickers to his filthy shirt for a second. "You can't get in your car like this. You'll get everything dirty."

He could always take off his shirt, of course, but somehow, I don’t think he’d appreciate