as breathing at this point, and the impulse is mutual judging by the way her hands rest on my thighs. The contact is innocent, but it does crazy things to my pulse nonetheless. When her nails tease the fading surgery scars on my right leg, I draw my knees in and press her between my thighs. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and aims a coy glance my way.
"You think you're cute, don't you?" I wrap my arms around her stomach, and she melts into my hold. Lowering my head, I kiss her bare shoulder, inhaling and savoring her scent until her chest expands with a heavy sigh. I'm content, she's content. Which is why I almost feel guilty when my fingers dig in and tickle her sides. Almost.
"Carter!" Jess flails like a fish out of water, her shriek piercing while her hands claw at my arms. "No, no, no." She kicks her legs into the air, and I’m glad she's wearing a little jumper, or she'd flash the world as she wiggles and jerks around.
And, damn, she is so fucking adorable. I'm sucking air between bouts of laughter while continuing my attack until she's a ball between my legs. I flip to my knees and hover over her.
"Uncle!" she yells like that's a magic word. It's not; a tickle terrorist knows no mercy and my fingers prime for another bout … until I catch glimpses of her face between the mass of hair covering her: flushed skin, a tear-brightened eye, and a wide smile. That view, along with her throaty giggles and uneven breaths, pauses the world.
"I don't want to lose this," I say, gazing down at her.
The fight in her body dies an immediate death. She releases one of my hands, now flat on her stomach and hip, and shoves the curtain of hair from her face. It takes effort, she's a knotted mess, but once her full face is accessible, I kiss her open mouth.
To both our regret, I deliver Jess home untouched, well, untouched minus a heavy make-out session in my car, the likes of which I haven't seen since high school. The date ends just as promised, and though it kills me, I respect her concern for her father and her desire to be home when he returns. That is why she returned to Rossview for the summer. She's not here for me—a concept I need to remind myself of with every passing moment spent with her.
Jess
"You've changed his summer." Shading my eyes from the intense sun, I look up at Chase towering over me with two tiki-shaped cups with red, white, and blue paper umbrellas in her hands. "Is this seat taken?" she asks.
"No, of course, sit." I divest her the drink she says is mine as she settles on the stone coping of the Cooper's magnificent pool. Our legs dangle in the water past our shins. The liquid refreshing on this scorching Fourth of July. "You were saying?" I prompt, longing for her to repeat and expand on her initial comment.
Chase's black sunglasses and straw hat hide her expression as she drinks from her cup. "Virgin," she says with a wrinkled nose.
I choke on the fruity cocktail she handed over, and she laughs under her breath. "My drink is a virgin." She clarifies and lifts the festive plastic cup, tapping mine.
"Ohhh." I suck a long sip of sour cocktail, grateful she wasn't segueing into a discussion about sex. "Mine is not." I shrug; in fact, the drink is very not virgin. Gail Cooper makes a kick-ass drink. "Sorry."
Releasing a comical sigh, Chase looks out across the expansive kidney-shaped pool. Carter plays pool volleyball with Finn, Frey, and Owen on the opposite end, their competitiveness cranked way past high after the first ten minutes. It was so bad, I moved from my spectator spot near the net for risk of life and limb. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, who repeatedly remind me to use their first names, sit under the ceiling fans and shade of the covered patio with the Henry's, Owen's parents, drinking and laughing at the boys' antics.
"You didn't invite anyone?" I ask, studying Carter's gorgeous younger sister. In the month I've been seeing Carter, I've spent little time with Chase alone. I haven't figured her out. Carter says she's continually making plans with friends, seizing the last bits of life before they separate for different schools and futures this fall. Why would she not invite them to a barbecue for the