He frowns. “Bad?”
“Scary.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and I lean into his chest. “Donald Gaskins was a bad man. That woman is lucky to be alive.”
He holds me for a moment, strong and supportive. I don’t know how he’s aware that it’s exactly what I need, but it is. I hear the footsteps pounding on the porch overhead and the scent of a fire burning and I’m thankful to be safe—to have these guys around me and not a dirt-bag like Gaskins in my life.
I tilt my head and look up at Nick. He gazes down at me and brushes his nose against mine. It’s a sweet gesture and the longing I’ve had for him since the library flares to life.
“Nick! Get up here and carry some firewood!” Anita shouts from somewhere above.
“One day I’m going to get you alone,” he mutters.
My stomach drops at the intensity of the threat. I swallow and reply, “I’m counting on it.”
Reveling in the weight of his hand, we walk up the stairs and down the boardwalk. Past the dunes, Anita and Maggie have set up a fire pit, stacked high with wood. Chairs circle the pit. Nick ducks under the porch to get another bundle and I follow Anita to the table stacked with food and ingredients for s’mores.
“This is amazing,” I say, checking out the spread and the fire that Bobby is now trying to light. All the guys surround him, offering suggestions. I hear a firm no! when Justin suggests gasoline.
“Jesus, you’ll burn your hair off,” she shouts over the guys. “I swear it’s like having four extra kids.”
“Speaking of four, where’s Whit?”
“I’m sure he’ll be along. Probably cleaning up after surf school,” Maggie says.
Sure enough, just as the fire gets blazing and the sun starts to set, Whit wanders up the beach. He’s sun-bleached and happy. It’s hard to take my eyes off of him.
“Hey,” he says, walking past. He grabs a brownie off the table and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“You look happy.”
He shrugs, taking a bite of the treat. “It had a pretty amazing five a.m. kick-off and things kept coasting.”
He passes the guys, bumping fists, and heads back down to the water. One by one they stand, peel off layers of clothing and following Whit.
“I thought they were staying out of the water,” I said, watching them go.
“They’re like fish, they need the water to breathe,” Anita says.
“Something
going on between you and Whit?” Maggie asks.
“We’re hanging out some.”
“Huh,” Ivy replied, “I would have sworn you and Justin were getting close.”
I shrug, focusing on the bowl of fruit salad that I’m putting together.
“Although,” Maggie continues, “I swear Nick has been eyeing you like a wolf watches a lamb since you got here.”
“Girls!” Anita says, dropping a pan of pasta salad on the table. “Leave Summer alone. She’s cute and smart and let’s not pretend all four of those boys are probably salivating over her right now.”
“Mmmhmmm,” Ivy hummed. “Four girls and one guy. How do you make those odds work?”
“Plus the Pact. Don’t forget that,” Maggie adds. “It either complicates or simplifies things.”
Anita gives me a sympathetic glance. “Girls, seriously. Let it go. You know how it is. Love burns hot and fast around here. If Summer manages to hook one of the boys, that’s her business.”
“Okay,” Maggie says, giving me an apologetic grin. “But if it were me, I’d never really be able to choose.” She flings her arm around Ivy’s neck and kisses her cheek. “Thank god I don’t have to.”