Bad Habit (Bad Love 1)

“You know how to drive one of these things?” Asher asks, shrugging on his own life jacket—looking put out that he’s not above the law and has to wear one—as I swing a leg over and hop on.

“Yep.”

“Of course, you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not a damn thing. Ready?”

Instead of answering, I stick the key in and hit the start button. Asher gets behind me, and we both coast, unspeaking, until we pass the no-wake zone. As soon as we hit the buoys giving us the green light, Asher speeds off ahead of me.

Dick.

I squeeze the throttle on the handlebar and manage to catch up to him. His head swivels over to me, and I see a dark brow lift in amusement behind his black sunglasses. He ups his speed, daring me to keep up, and I don’t plan to back down. My hair whips in every direction, and I’m laughing like a lunatic, but I don’t care. It’s not like he can hear me, anyway. I can resume my anger once I’m done having fun.

We’re in the pontoon’s wake, and I hear Dash and Adrian hollering at us. They’re holding up something that I can’t make out… Is that a beer bong? Yup. It’s definitely a beer bong.

Asher stands on his Jet Ski, hands still on the handlebars, and cuts out of the wake, hitting several waves that send him flying through the air. But, he doesn’t lose control for even a second. He’s always loved the water, and it loves him right back. His dark g

ray board shorts cling to him like a second skin and hang low enough to expose the defined crease between two toned ass cheeks. That, combined with the vibration between my thighs, has me feeling more than a little squirmy.

Instead of staying with the boat, I veer off and follow Asher. He glances over his shoulder, and I swear I see a hint of a smirk on those gorgeous, pouty lips of his. If I thought we were going fast before, we’re flying now. I check the speed. Thirty-eight miles per hour. Okay, so maybe it’s not that fast. But it feels a lot faster on water.

Every time we hit a wave, he checks back on me, and some stupid, naïve part of me equates that as caring about me—at least in some capacity. Baby steps.

After playing around in the water a little more, Ash leads the way back to Dash and everyone. We’re parallel to the pontoon, but this time, I’m in front of him. I look back at Dash for a split second before I hear Asher yell.

“Briar!”

My head snaps to my right, and I see another Jet Ski coming straight for me. Fear takes hold and I’m frozen, unsure of what to do. If I hit the off button at this speed, I’ll be ejected. I can’t go left, because the pontoon is there. My only option is to pull out the key and take a sharp right.

I just narrowly avoid being hit, water splashes onto my face, and the two guys on the Jet Ski look back, oblivious to the fact that they almost took me out. I’m still trying to calm my racing heart when Asher’s suddenly at my side.

“You okay?” he barks out, his eyebrows cinched together.

“Yeah, I—” Before I can finish my sentence, he takes off after them.

“Asher! Don’t!”

But there’s no stopping him. He’s off like a rocket, chasing them across the lake. He has to be going at least sixty miles per hour to catch up to them. This is the old Asher. The hothead, always looking for a fight.

“Bry!” Dash yells out to me, panic lacing his voice.

“I’m good!” I shout back, climbing back on and giving a thumbs-up.

Asher passes them, and I’m confused for a second, wondering if he thought better of it, until he turns back around, heading straight for them.

Is he playing chicken?

They try to dodge him, but he mirrors their every move. I hold my breath, watching through my fingers and hoping to God he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else, when he cuts right, just before they’re about to collide, and soaks the shit out of them. The guy tries to take a sharp turn to avoid getting hit, but they end up tipping over and going under.

Adrian and Dash howl with laughter, while Whitley rolls her eyes because the attention isn’t on her. I think I let out something between a nervous giggle and a relieved sigh, but I can’t tell because my pulse is still pounding in my ears.

I’m not sure exactly what’s going on from here, but I can hear Asher’s threatening, booming voice, and then he’s throwing his arms up and pointing back at me. One guy swims to the shore, and one mounts the Jet Ski, idling. A few more words are exchanged before they go their separate ways.

Once he’s back, he tells me to get my ass on the boat. I idle as close as I can get and Adrian extends a hand to pull me up. I ditch my life vest, then pull the key bracelet off, handing it to one of Dash’s other friends. Asher dives off his Jet Ski and climbs onto the boat behind me.

“Key’s on the handlebar,” he says to anyone and everyone, but staring at only me, and one of the other guys jumps in to get it.