“This is fine, thank you.” She grabs half a sandwich off the tray but doesn’t immediately lift it to her mouth. I grab the other part and bite it in half, a silent way of proving to her that I didn’t do anything to tamper with the food.
“Where’s your cast?” she asks as I lift the second half of the sandwich to my mouth.
“Cut it off.” I shrug. “It got in the way.”
“You’ll regret that when your bones don’t heal properly.”
“Probably so,” I agree. “Seems I regret a lot of things these days.”
She nods with understanding but then breaks eye contact. We watch Preston splash around in the pool for a few minutes until the pull to get in myself gets the better of me.
“Sure you don’t want to swim?” I ask as I stand and pull my t-shirt over my head.
“No, thanks.”
Her eyes are glued to my chest, but I don’t flex to show off the muscles that I’ve clearly worked hard to get. I’ve tried lifting weights since I got out of the hospital, if anything just to kill time, but the strain makes my head hurt, and even though the cast got in the way, my wrist is nowhere near healed enough for that yet.
“Offer stands if you change your mind.”
I turn away from her, not wanting to go, but needing the space. The sight of her laid out, even in that one-piece, makes me want to do naughty things to her, but the girl can barely stand the sight of me. No doubt she’ll maim me if I try to run my finger up her leg like I’ve been dying to do since she showed back up.
“Cannonball!” I yell as I run to the pool.
Preston claps and celebrates like only a ten-year-old boy can when I resurface. Peyton joins Piper on the patio, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Before long, Peyton slowly wades into the pool, and Piper is left sitting alone on the side.
“Don’t look at me like that,” my sister complains. “I tried to convince her to get in. She doesn’t want to.”
“Yeah, she turned me down too.”
“Of course, she turned you down,” Peyton huffs as she slaps the water in my face. “She’s not going to fall in love with you in a day.”
“Love?” I huff, looking back in Piper’s direction after wiping the water from my face. “I could only hope.”
“Then go talk to her,” my sister urges. “Don’t hang out here and ignore her.”
I figured she’s had enough of me today, but Peyton knows more about girl shit than I do, so against my better judgment, I swim to the end of the pool that Piper is at.
“The water feels great,” I tell her as I rest my chin on the edge of the pool. “You should get in.”
She glances from me to the sparkling water several times before her eyes finally meet mine.
“It does look enticing.”
“Plus, I’m in here.” I give her a wide grin, but she just rolls her eyes. “Too douchey?”
“Just a touch.” She holds her thumb and forefinger an inch apart for emphasis.
“Still. You should get in. I promise no more douchiness.”
“And if I don’t?” she challenges.
“I promise I still won’t act like a douche. Maybe we can play Marco Polo.”
“Yeah!” Preston yells. “Let’s play Marco Polo!”
“Are you really going to disappoint my little brother?”
She raises an eyebrow. “You said you weren’t going to be a douche.”
“Last time, promise. Come on, Piper. Let’s play.”
I can see it in her eyes the second she decides to join us, and I’m ecstatic. Unfortunately, she keeps her shorts on as she slowly inches into the water from the stairs.
Being the oldest, I’m nominated to go first, but it doesn’t take long before I manage to catch my little brother. He splashes too much when he swims, and it makes him an easy target. Preston tags Peyton in the second round, but I discover quickly that she let herself get caught because she’s tagging me seconds into her turn.
“Damn, you’re a quick swimmer,” I grumble after coming up for air and sputtering since she dunked me when she caught me.
“I’m on the swim team, dummy,” she says with a grin.
I look around the pool for everyone’s position before standing in the middle and closing my eyes. I know who my target is, and I’m not letting her get away from me this time.
“Marco!” I yell, already positioning myself in Piper’s direction.
“Polo!” Peyton and Preston answer.
“Oh, Piper. You’re not playing fair,” I tease when she remains silent.
Neither am I since I’ve got my left eye open a tiny slit.
“Marco!”
“Polo!”
Again, she doesn’t play along, but before she can move, I’m right in front of her. I could easily grab her shoulders to tag her, but where’s the fun in that? My hands clamp around her thin waist, and she gasps.