Vain (The Seven Deadly 1)

“Liar.”

My wide smile met his.

He stood and dragged me up with him. “Care to join me?” he asked, toeing his shoes off.

I gulped.

“Turn around.”

He stopped mid-bend to remove his shoe and studied me. “Whatever for?”

“I-I only had this bikini thing I’d brought from home and I-uh-I’m not exactly decent, but I don’t want to get this t-shirt wet.”

“You can’t be serious, Soph.”

“Deadly,” I teased.

“You do know this water is fairly clear, right?”

“Not that clear, Ian.”

He did that thing boys do where they pull their shirts over their heads with one swoop. I felt drunk with too much eye consumption. My stare roamed his incredibly chest and stomach and my mouth gaped. I tucked my tongue back into my mouth and bit my lip to keep it from falling back out. He winked and I laughed out loud.

“You’re ridiculous,” I told him, setting up my little iPod station and turning up the volume to American Daydream by Electric Guest.

“Your turn,” he teased.

“No, no, no, Ian. Go ahead and put your fine self in that water.”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek before diving in quickly. His head bobbed up, water sluicing down his neck and shoulders, his wet hair dark as night. Butterflies swarmed.

“Stay facing that way, “ I told him.

He visibly sighed but kept his back toward me. I bent to remove my shoes and shimmied from my shorts and t-shirt. My arms instinctively covered my stomach knowing what Karina would say if she saw me in that moment.

“Hurry up!” Ian yelled.

“I am! I am!” I smiled.

I toed the water and hissed at how cold it was. I hated that part. I edged my way in, cringing with every step until my body became accustomed to the temperature just as Agnes Obel’s Avenue began to play.

When I was shoulder deep, I called out to him. “Okay, you can turn now.”

He turned and smiled. “It was a futile effort, you know?” he said, stalking me slowly.

“What was?” I asked, backing up as he edged my direction.

“Making me turn. It was a pointless effort,” he said, closing in.

“How’s that?” I asked, gulping down a giddy giggle.

“Because,” he said, rushing me playfully and wrapping his hands around my waist. My hands rested on his wet shoulders. “Tsk, tsk, Miss Price, skin to skin. What would Karina say?”

I pushed at his chest. “Ian.”

“I’m only playing.” He ran his hands up my back and settled them on my neck. “There. Comfortable?”

I jokingly pushed him a little in answer.