Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

Olive felt like she’d walked into a sub-zero freezer as Rory rose from the booth and tossed some bills on the table. He took one long final look at her and moved in a slow swagger toward the exit. And she couldn’t yell wait this time. Not if she wanted to maintain one ounce of self-respect. Instead, she turned in the booth and faced Leanne, trying desperately to swallow the lump in her throat. “So, um…where did we leave off last time? I think it was the—”

Rory appeared to her left. “I left my phone at home. Write down your number,” he said, pronouncing it numba.

“Who leaves their phone?” Leanne mused, playing with her own device.

But Olive barely heard her over the sudden palpitations happening in her chest. By some feat of willpower, she managed not to break into song. She signaled Leanne for a pen and wrote her cell number on a straw wrapper, sliding it toward Rory. “Are you going to use it?”

He left without answering.

Olive smiled through the entire study session.

He’d call.

He’d totally call.

CHAPTER FOUR

No way Rory could call her.

If he called Olive, he’d arrange a time to see her again. If he saw her again, once wouldn’t be enough. Time had stood still from the moment he pulled her out of the bus’s path, right up until he finally left Mike’s Shakes with her number in his pocket. Everything had taken a back seat to what she said next, how she moved, smelled, laughed.

He sat on a bench in the Hut’s locker room now, staring down at the ripped straw wrapper, smoothing out the curled ends on his thigh. Around him, the locker room moved in ripples of animated color, the other lifeguards excited to kick off the summer season, already making plans to hit the boardwalk bars tonight. Lockers slammed, cell phones dinged, playful insults rang out.

Meanwhile Rory was transfixed by ten digits on a narrow strip of white paper. She’d drawn smiley faces in her zeroes, which was just further proof calling the number was a bad idea. And yet. If he hadn’t left his phone at home, he would have already texted her.

There had been an unusual tug in his gut the entire time and it was more than him being turned on. He’d wanted to sit her in his lap and feed her milkshakes and find out what caused all her different smiles. The teasing one was his favorite by far. The one that challenged him to stop being so serious.

Funny enough, serious wasn’t Rory’s thing. Definitely not when it came to women. He was a temporary thrill—and it went both ways. Yet he’d found himself…exposed in front of Olive. More than once. And she’d barely pushed. His guard had dropped itself before he knew what happened. Would he take back those moments if he could?

No. No, he wouldn’t change a single thing about that morning.

An elbow caught him in the side and Rory lifted his head to find Jamie sitting beside him. How long had his brother been there? “Hey.”

Jamie eyeballed the straw wrapper. “Eventful walk to work?”

Rory sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “You could say that.”

“She smiley faced her zeroes.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“You going to call her?” Jamie prompted, beginning to dig through his backpack.

Rory stood, dropped the phone number onto the top shelf of his open locker and stripping off his shirt. “Nope.”

“That sounds pretty definitive.”

“Has to be.”

“Why?”

Off came the sweatpants, leaving Rory in his red, standard-issue lifeguard trunks. “She’s eighteen.” When Jamie winced, Rory made a sound of agreement. “That’s only the beginning. She’s a smart girl. College coming up. I’m not going to let her waste time on me.”

Jamie’s brows snapped together. “I’d say you’re not a waste of time, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

“She doesn’t even know I’ve done time.” His chest knotted thinking of how she’d react. Part of Rory wished he’d told her, just so he wouldn’t have to speculate forever what she might have said. “It was just a crazy, one-time thing. Nothing happened. We drank milkshakes.”

“Since when do your crazy one-time things involve milkshakes?”

“Since this morning, okay?” Rory shot back, pounding a fist into his locker. “Drop it.”

Jamie adopted his signature cocky pose. Arms crossed, expression bored. “I’ll drop it when you throw her number in the trash.”

Rory laughed and shook his head. “You prick.”

“Can’t do it, can you?”

Not a hope in hell. “Why is this such a big deal to you?”

Jamie lost a degree of smugness. “Look, we’re all busy during the year. I’m teaching, Andrew never leaves the bar.” He shrugged a shoulder. “We see each other at home, but we’re not around each other non-stop, like we are in the summer. And every time Memorial Day weekend rolls around, you’re a little less…optimistic. About yourself. About everything.”