“Right.” Fuck. Why was it I couldn’t think about anything except the last time I saw her?
She took me right back to high school. To college. To a time when I gave two fucks about what a girl thought.
Cole ran up behind me. “Why if it isn’t Sierra Emory.” He pulled her into a resistant hug. She looked over his shoulder at me.
“Hi. Cole.”
“It’s like a damn high school reunion around here.” He grinned. He was already drunk.
“I guess so.”
“Is this your boat, Cole?” Sierra asked.
“Nah, she’s Blake’s. He built her himself,” Cole said, as I turned up the music.
“Really? You built this?” Sierra looked surprised.
I hopped on the boat and strolled to the lineup of coolers.
I leaned back in the captain’s chair, propping my feet next to the steering wheel. “Really.”
“Sorry, my cousin’s such an ass and a bad receiver. That was a perfect throw,” Cole quipped, smiling at Sierra.
“You’re crazy.” I glared. “I caught that pass by the way. Which is pretty fucking amazing considering I’m the one who usually throws it.”
“No one around here gives a shit,” Cole shot back.
I grinned. It was why I loved it. But now Sierra was here and suddenly it didn’t seem the same. She shouldn’t be here. My boat was anchored on shore, but I felt as if it were rocking with some new kind of current.
“Don’t want your head getting too big,” I egged him on.
“It was good to see you both.” Sierra stepped back. “But I think Shirley wanted me to see some other people.” I wasn’t surprised she was trying to run. Typical.
“Hey, come on. Why don’t you cruise with us?” Cole asked. “Like we used to do.” He waggled his eyebrows. “It will be like old times.”
I retrieved my legs from their propped position. “Man, I didn’t know we were planning a cruise tonight. It’s going to be crowded out there with everyone trying to drop anchor to watch the fireworks.”
I sure as fuck wasn’t going to tell Cole I cared if Sierra was out on the water with us, but I’d be damned if I would just invite her back into my island life.
Cole shot a look over his shoulder to the Shirley Lane party, and Sierra followed his gaze. Henry was parading around the corn hole players with Shirley perched on his shoulders. She was screaming all the words to the pirate tune blaring across the beach. Things at Shirley Lane were getting rowdy. Drunk rowdy.
“It’s either this or we cruise.” Cole shrugged his shoulders at me. “It’s up to you—your boat.”
“All right. Let’s pull anchor. Come on.” He made his way to the bow of the boat and started working the anchor free from the sand.
“I’m going to shove us off,” Cole offered.
Sierra hadn’t moved.
“If you don’t want to ride, just stay here, darlin’,” I called over the low rumble of the diesel engine.
I didn’t need her on my boat. I didn’t need her on my island. I wasn’t going out of my way to make her comfortable.
“I’m going.” She jogged forward and Cole helped her across the bow.
Fuck. Now what?
5