by Monica Cole
Now I’m the one laughing. “No. Although it is a hilarious story.”
“Try mortifying.”
As she continues to fix her make-up, I get dressed. Fortunately she didn’t choose anything too revealing, but that’s because I don’t own anything remotely sexy. Even though I think it’s pointless, I slip into the black thong before putting on a pair of white cut off shorts and black, lace trimmed tank top.
After I pull my hair into a ponytail and apply some lipstick, we head downstairs. Parker is sitting in front of the T.V. watching Game of Thrones.
“I’m heading out,” I announce, grabbing my purse off the coffee table. “Will you be okay alone for a few hours?”
Without taking his eyes off the TV. Parker motions us away with his hand. “I’ll be fine. Go. Have fun.” He tilts his head back and looks at Whitney. “Make sure she has fun.”
She slips her arm through mine and ushers me towards the door. “Trust me. I will.”
The cove looks just as I remember it. A circular part of the lake filled with the most gorgeous shade of dark blue water. And the way it catches in the sun as it sinks behind the trees. Gorgeous. Like a million sparkling diamonds are floating around in there. Up ahead there’s a crowd of people gathered around the fire, laughing and talking, while some are playing around in the lake before it gets dark.
“Come on,” Whitney grabs my hand, hurrying me along.
As soon as we reach the bonfire, Whitney is bombarded with hugs and squeals of excitement from old friends while I stand behind her, wondering if I look as awkward as I feel. Other than Whitney and Canyon, I didn’t have many friends in school. More like acquaintances. Whitney was always the socialite. She loves people almost as much as I dislike them.
While Whitney continues catching up, I offer to grab us a drink. I can only take so much obnoxious banter before I become a threat of ripping out someone’s vocal chords. The sun has finally disappeared, replaced by a giant moon that blankets everything in a white, ethereal glow. By the time I get back with our beers, Whitney is talking to a couple of guys, neither of which look familiar to me.
“Thanks.” She says, cracking open the beer I hand her. She takes a sip and motions between me and the two guys. “Ya’ll, this is Elaine Reynolds. Elaine, this is Ashton and Hunter. They graduated the same year as us.” She says the last part as a question. Like she’s expecting me to remember who these guys are.
I just smile politely.
The blonde guy, Ashton, scratches the back of his neck like he’s nervous or something.
“You’re...you’re the girl who was in that bad wreck, right? The one that paralyzed your brother?”
Everyone is staring at me, waiting. Whitney shifts feet, and I can tell she’s almost as uncomfortable as I am.
“Yea,” I mumble, praying to God he drops the subject. This is the last thing I want to think about tonight.
“That was really unfortunate,” he continues, still scratching his damn neck. “He was being scouted for the NFL, right?”
I feel like I’m suffocating, but I realize it’s just my throat closing up because I’m trying not to cry.
“Crap,” Whitney interrupts, pretending to feel around her pockets, “I think I left my phone in the car. Elaine, will you come with me to get it?”
Without giving me a chance to answer, she grabs my hand and drags me away. Once we’re far enough, she stops, turning to me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to bring that up.”
“It’s okay. They didn’t mean anything by it.” I inhale, staring out at the water. “It’s just hard. And I don’t think talking about it will ever get any easier.”
She slips her arm through mine, tugging me close. “One day it will. I promise.”
The next hour is somewhat enjoyable, although I’m willing to bet that has something to do with the alcohol. I even socialize with a few of Whitney’s friends, and I’m relieved when no one else mentions Parker or the wreck. Aaron Tucker, who I remember being in Trig with us, even asked me to dance. He’s not a bad looking guy. Mousy brown hair, glasses. Wears a lot of tight pants. He sucks at dancing, but I have no room to talk. After one dance, I tell him I’d better sit down and leave it to the pros.
Whitney is on her third dance with Clark Benson of all people. He’s still gorgeous. More muscle and thick blonde hair than belongs on a guy. She hasn’t stopped smiling since he came over and asked her to dance. I’m happy for her. I guess the granny panty incident didn’t scar him too bad. Eventually I get bored, so I get up and wander down to the water. I take off my sandals, letting the water wash over my feet as I walk along the shore to a vacant spot behind some large rocks. It’s quiet. The kind of quiet most people find unsettling, but to me, it’s the most redeeming and calming in the world. It cuts through the voices and thoughts in my brain. Like snipping a wire they’re just disconnected.
I sit on the sand for a minute, eyes closed, enjoying the warm wind through my hair. The sun has been down for a while, but it’s still hot and my skin is damp with sweat. I climb up, eyeing the water longingly. It’s been ages since I swam and even longer since I swam in the lake. And nothing beats swimming in the lake. Before I overthink it, I start shedding my clothes until I’m wearing nothing but my bra and stupid black thong. I should’ve stuck with the cat panties. At least then my ass would be covered. As I approach the water, I check both ways then let my hair down. The water is cold but damn, it feels good. I wade in deeper, releasing a sigh when I’m all the way under.
“Would you look at that? Elle Reynolds skinning dipping.”
My entire body jerks at the unexpected voice, causing my head to go under. I come up sputtering, flailing my arms like a cat just dunked in water.
I rub my eyes and look around frantically. Canyon’s voice. I know I did not imagine it. My eyes move towards the rocks where I left my clothes and that’s when I see him. Standing there like a glowing silhouette plastered against the darkness. My stomach feels heavy and I can just picture myself sinking to the bottom of the lake like a rock. Which doesn’t sound so bad right now.
“How long have you been standing there?” I snap, making sure to keep my body beneath the water. I can barely see him, and I think he can sense that because he moves closer. He’s on the edge of the shore, and I can almost make out his features perfectly.
I definitely see the way his lips perk up at my question. “Long enough.”
Despite the temperature of the water, my body floods with heat. I should have known this was a terrible idea.
“You’re a pervert,” I mutter, and I can hear his familiar chuckle echo around us. My entire body trembles, a cruel reminder of the effect he still has on me.
As I’m racking my brain for ideas on how to get him out of here, I barely notice when he tugs his shirt over his head.
“Wh…what are you doing?” I stammer, watching as he steps out of his jeans. Oh God. No. No. No.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies, tossing his shoes aside. He takes slow, deliberate steps into the water, and I watch in horror as the space between us diminishes.
“Canyon,” I warn.
He freezes. Our eyes meet and the look on his face; it’s the most twisted portrait of pain and desire. I use the moment to swim back and to the side. Maybe if I’m quick enough, I can get past him.
“Are you really going to get out after I just got in?” He drifts lazily on his back, head tilted in my direction.
I stop moving.
Stupid.
“I didn’t ask you to get in.”
“I thought you could use some company.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I say shortly, tearing my eyes off his chest when it surfaces above the water.
Canyon positions himself upright, shaking the water from his hair. It’s shorter than it used to be but still has boyish curl to the tips.
“Look,” he says, grazing his hands across the top of the water, “if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t see anything. I’
m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to talk.”
I know he’s telling the truth, but it doesn’t make being half naked in the water with him any less nerve racking.
I eye him suspiciously. “How did you know I was out here anyways?”
“I’ve been at the party for the last hour.”
“And you figured that the best time to talk to me is when I’m half naked?”
He smiles crookedly. “Not the best time but it was close enough.”
My entire body shivers, and I quickly say a prayer to every god there ever was that he doesn’t notice. The way his lips twitch makes me think he does.
“So, uh, are you here with anyone? At the party I mean?” My voice sounds weird. Like I need speech therapy or something.
Canyon looks like he’s trying not to smile. “By anyone, are you asking if I’m here with a girl?”
I shoot him an irritated look. “I mean anyone. Girl. Or guy, if that’s what you’re into now.” I raise an eyebrow and he laughs.
“Definitely not into guys. And as of right now, there aren’t any girls who have my attention.” He says the last part looking at my mouth, then leisurely trails his eyes up to meet mine.
“Oh, well that’s good,” I stutter but then correct myself. “I mean, about you not liking guys.”
Smooth.
He grins in a way that makes me wonder what he’s thinking. “So I’m guessing Whitney dragged you here as usual?”
I nod. “It was horrible. She forced me out of bed where I was happily watching Friends, and then made me get dressed.” I place the back of my hand over my head dramatically. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”
Canyon shakes his head, his body appearing to drift closer. Water laps against my chest, and I look down to see it completely above the water.
“So, is this your way of rebelling? Skinny dipping in the lake.” His voice is deep and smooth, wrecking my insides like a tidal wave.
“Technically, I’m not skinny dipping,” I correct, gliding my thumb underneath the strap of my bra. “I’m still wearing clothes.”
The tip of his tongue darts out of his mouth as his eyes follow my movements. “Hate to break it to you, Elle, but what you’re wearing hardly qualifies as clothing.” He glances up, lips pressed tightly together.
My stomach suddenly feels as if it’s on crack, attempting a bunch of ridiculously complicated somersaults. I internally tell myself to get my shit together. That having this reaction to Canyon is something of the past. And it is absolutely not acceptable.
“If that’s the case, then maybe you shouldn’t be in the water with me.” Reaching out, I put my hand on his chest and propel myself backwards.
Canyon smirks, moving after me. “You’re probably right. But there was just something so tempting about the water tonight.”
Oh Lord Jesus in heaven.
My legs turn to jello, leaving me paralyzed. I turn just in time to see Canyon disappear beneath the water.
“Canyon, I swear to God if you touch me…” I don’t finish my sentence. His hand wraps around my leg and jerks me under before I even have a chance to scream.
As soon as we resurface, I smack him hard on the chest. “You’re a jerk.”
I continue to rub the water from my eyes and peel the hair from my face while he cracks up.
“I’m just trying to have some fun,” he tells me, running a hand through his hair, so that it sticks up in every direction.
I give up trying to tame my hair and lean my head back, using the water to smooth it away from my face. When I come back up I catch Canyon staring, his chest moving rapidly, his jaw tense. It’s a familiar look. One I could pinpoint from a mile away. The kind of look that used to destroy me right before it did beautiful things to me.
Before my emotions can get the better of me, I swim forward, my expression sly. “If you wanted to have fun, why didn’t you say so?”
He raises an eyebrow and I pounce, using my hands to dunk him. What I’m not expecting are his hands around my waist, dragging me with him.
I come back up, laughing so hard I can feel my sides cramping.
“You’re sneaky,” he says, licking the water off his mouth.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare.
“You’re just mad because I play you better at your own game,” I say teasingly.
He snorts, moving the slightest bit closer. “And what is my game exactly?”
I shrug. “You tell me. After all, I thought we were just having fun.”
After all of our romping and splashing, we’ve drifted further and further away from the shore. My entire body is exhausted and if my legs weren’t jello before, there’s no doubt they are now. It’s all I can do to keep them moving.
“You’re tired,” Canyon says suddenly, somehow reading my mind.
My mouth opens to respond but the second he closes the space between us, all words leave me. As if every thought in my mind just fizzled out.
His hands disappear under the water, skimming my waist. My heart is the only thing in protest. My body…it’s a freaking traitor. There’s no way he doesn’t feel the tremor shaking through me as he pulls me to him. And when his hands slide down, hooking around my knees; I’m almost thankful he’s holding me up because I have absolutely no control over my body right now.
He wraps my legs around his hips, and I avoid eye contact when he places my arms around his neck. Our bodies fit perfectly. Like we were created and fashioned together for this very purpose. It makes me wonder if that’s why I’ve felt so empty these last two years. Feeling like some vital part of me was missing but not exactly sure what. I existed, but I wasn’t really living.
I’m not sure why, but part of me is expecting Canyon’s hands on my hips only it never happens. Instead he keeps his arms out to the side, and I’m not sure if it’s for his benefit or mine, but I think I can safely assume both.
“You know, I’m perfectly capable of swimming back on my own,” I say once he starts wading towards land.
He’s stroking his arms back and forth to push us through the water, and I can feel each muscle tightening as he moves.
“Sounds to me like you’re complaining about a free lift.”
“Again, I didn’t ask you. Maybe you should quit assuming things.”
“Most people would call my 'assuming things' politeness,” he argues.
“That’s most people. I, on the other hand, know that polite is the last thing you are.”
He cocks an eyebrow, a gesture that is too sexy for his own good. “Not polite, huh?”
He swims back, but this time the movement jerks me forward and causes my body to knocks against his. My legs tighten involuntarily, and he goes rigid beneath me.
I shake my head. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You have a dirty mouth and an even dirtier mind. It’s probably covered with sexual innuendos and f-bombs.”
I’m not expecting Canyon to laugh but that’s exactly what he does. Throws his head back in hysterics. The sound alone is enough to do me in but the way his body rocks and vibrates against mine: that’s a completely different story.
“What’s so funny?” I quip, trying to keep my mind from thinking dirty thoughts. Although that’s pretty much impossible with his body moving the way it is underneath mine.
He stops laughing and lifts his head to look at me. “Just some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s funny.”
“Funny maybe, but true nonetheless.”
We’ve finally reached the shallower part of the lake when Canyon stops. “I’ll go ahead and head back to the party, so you can get dressed,” he offers.
I nod, untangling my arms and legs from around him.
He exits the water and even though I tell myself not to look, I end up staring anyways. When he turns around, I drop my eyes and pretend to be staring at the water. He waves before jogging off, disappearing behind the rocks.
; Immediately I scramble out of the water, making a mad dash for my clothes. I slip on my sandals first then my tank top, but when I reach for my pants I scream at the top of my lungs.
Resting on top of my shorts is a snake, coiled up, head reared and ready to strike. It hisses menacingly as I scurry on top of a rock. If there’s one thing I don’t do, its snakes. Seriously. I’ll take spiders or bugs any day. Just thinking of snakes freaks me out.
Right now, I’m in hysterics.
As if that weren’t bad enough, I’m huddled on top of rock with my ass showing.
I hate Whitney right now.
And I freaking hate snakes.
“What the hell?”
Oh my god. This is not happening. Why is this happening?
Canyon is standing below me, extremely close to where my pants are. I point at them.
“Snake. There’s a freaking snake in my pants.”
He calmly looks at my pants and back at me.
And then he’s laughing.
I’ve never been so pissed in my life. And pissed off and terrified do not mix well.
“This is not funny!” I yell hotly. Reaching down, I yank one of my flip flops off and toss it at him. He dodges it, still laughing.
“Canyon, for the love of god, please get the snake out of my pants.”
He places his hands on his hips and smiles up at me. “If I had a dollar for every time I said that to a girl.”
If it weren’t for the situation I might find his joke funny. But right now, there is nothing remotely funny about this situation.
“Where are you going?” I ask in a panicked voice when he starts walking toward the woods.
“Would you calm down? I’m looking for something to pick it up with.”
I cross my arms over my chest and sit down on the rock until he appears with a long tree branch.
“Are you seriously going to use that?” I crawl to my knees, watching as he cautiously approaches the snake. He holds his hand up, silencing me.
I watch nervously as he holds the branch out and maneuvers it underneath the snake’s body. I’m expecting it to retaliate in some way, but it simply wraps itself around the branch as Canyon carries it back towards the woods.