if you remember, but May and I used to have to watch you in it so you two didn’t try to drown each other. It was like a full-time sibling rivalry cage match with you two.”
“Dude,” Dylan says. “It’s funny, but now that you mention it, I still feel an urge to push her underwater.”
“Try it and die,” I say as a reflex.
Rickie laughs. He’s sitting on a blanket on the grass beside me. And I’ve been doing my best not to stare at his shirtless, dripping wet body. Now he says, “I’ve got twenty bucks on Daphne in this fight.”
“Maybe we'll stop at one child,” Audrey says.
Griffin only grins. “Thank you for the ice cream, baby. Shall we go home?”
“We should. This one is up past his bedtime.”
Gus gives her a wary look and pouts.
They say their good nights and make their way through the trees toward the dirt road, while Rickie helps Audrey carry her cooler back to the car, and Griffin carries his cranky son.
Meanwhile, my brother pulls Chastity back into the water and starts kissing her while she laughs. Then she stops laughing and wraps her body around him.
“Check, please,” Dylan says. “We should head back. It’s getting late.”
I roll my eyes. It’s not even nine o’clock. The sky is still bright in the west.
“Go on,” Rickie says. “You know you want to.”
Dylan climbs out of the water. “Should I leave you the bikes or the pickup?”
“The truck,” I say quickly. I felt like a doofus riding my bike here in a bikini. But it was worth it. Rickie has been as broody as ever tonight. But his eyes keep finding their way over here nonetheless.
And now we’re going to be here all alone.
“Keys are in the ignition,” Dylan says, climbing out and wrapping a towel around his waist.
“Sleep tight,” Rickie snickers.
Chastity’s face is pink as she says goodbye. And then the two of them are gone. I hear bike tires on the gravel a minute later.
And that’s it. Rickie and I are the only people left. He is stoically licking his ice cream cone. And the silence thickens around us. This is just the sort of moment when Rickie usually hits on me.
But, nope. Silence.
“What are you thinking about?” I finally ask.
“I’d rather hear your thoughts,” he says.
“But I asked you first.”
He smiles slightly. “Fine. But it isn’t all that exciting. I was thinking about how three years ago, almost exactly, I went with some people to the chutes in Thetford. You’ve been?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I hadn’t before. It was a hot summer day, and we spent it jumping into the river and basically getting into trouble. And I remember it with perfect clarity.”
“Were you there with Carla?” I blurt out. I’ve never forgotten that they dated. Carla is my polar opposite—easy and fun.
Rickie blinks. “Yeah. How do you know?”
“You mentioned her the first time we met. That’s the person we knew in common. She gave me your email address.”
“Oh, right.” He glowers.
“So what happened at the chutes?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you look so angry right now?”
“Because I remember the deli sandwich I ate for lunch. And I remember we were teasing one guy about his tight bathing suit. It's so goddamn strange that I remember everything that happened up until the minute I left for college.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “But not after.”
“But not after,” he repeats. “It drives me straight up a tree.”
Okay. So Rickie's in a dark mood. I’ve been there.
After a beat, he moves over, bridging the distance between us. He puts a palm on my knee, and it’s cool from swimming. “Your turn,” he says. “What are you thinking about?” He takes a bite of his ice cream cone.
If I told the truth, he’d probably drop the ice cream in surprise. Well, I was actually thinking about your dick and how I hope to see more of it. “Just wondering where you went inside that head of yours.” That’s as much truth as I feel able to deliver.
His expression softens. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?”
“What? No. That's silly.”
“Is it?” His smile turns sly. Then he tosses the last bit of his ice cream cone over his shoulder, without even looking to see where it lands. “Come here, Shipley.” His voice is gravel.
I shiver. “Why?”
“Because I need a closer look at this bathing suit you’re rocking.”
“You really don’t,” I argue, even if I’ve been hoping for this moment for the last hour.
“Oh I disagree.” He moves closer, sitting next to me on my towel,