She laughs and ducks under the rope. She comes up smiling, though. I go under and reach for her, and she almost slides right by me, but I grab her at the last second. I slowly and gently pull her against me. We’re so close together that I can feel her heart beating against my chest. She stares into my eyes, and then her gaze drops to my lips and moves back up. “Pete,” she warns. She kicks her feet to stay afloat.

“Reagan,” I mock.

“It wasn’t my fault,” she says, but she’s a little breathless. “It was Gonzo. He planned the whole thing.”

“Liar,” I whisper. Her face flushes. I tread water with one hand and hold her against me with the other. This feels so good that I don’t want to let go.

“Reagan,” her father barks.

She looks up at him, as if she’s being dragged from a trance. I let her go, but she doesn’t move away from me. Her arm touches mine. “I want to kiss you,” I say impulsively, right beside her ear. She shivers lightly.

“You better do it soon,” she warns. “Or I’m going to have to replace you with someone more willing.” She kicks off from me and goes to the side of the pool, where she pulls herself up and climbs back into her chair. She crosses her long, tan legs, and her foot waves in the air as she fidgets. Then she looks at me and says loudly. “It better be epic, Pete. That’s all I’m saying.” She points to a place beside me. “And throw me my hat.”

I pick up her wet hat and set it on the side of the pool. I dive down and get her funky glasses and lay those beside her. I’m glad I have something to do because I don’t trust myself to get out of the pool just yet.

Our first kiss will be the kiss that ends all first kisses for me. I’m sure of it. I just hope she feels the same way.

Reagan

Dad’s mad at me, I can tell. He has been glaring at me all afternoon. Pete stares at me, too, but in a completely different way. He shed his shirt about two hours ago, and he walked over to me carrying a bottle of sunscreen Gonzo’s mom gave him. Dad intercepted him, though, and spun him around to rub sunscreen on his shoulders himself. Pete let him. It was the funniest thing I have seen in a long time. When Dad finished, he slapped Pete’s naked shoulder really hard and pointed him back toward the group of hearing-impaired kids who had just arrived at the pool.

Pete has organized water volleyball and water basketball, and I watch the boys play. My mouth goes dry as he slices out of the water to hit the ball, jumping high as he volleys it back to the other side of the net with his uninjured arm. His body is amazing, and I finally get to see all of his tattoos. I want to trace them with my fingertips and see how far they go beneath his swim trunks. His suit hangs low on his hips, and he has those ridges and a patch of hair leading down his belly that would make any bright girl become stupid. Like now. I can’t take my eyes of it. I want to follow the path like it’s the yellow brick road. My dad is the cowardly lion because I think he’s a lot more afraid of my feelings for Pete than I am. I…I am the wicked witch.

Pete swims over to the side of the pool in front of me. “Come swim with me,” he says, splashing water toward my legs.

“I’m on duty,” I say, and I blow my whistle at one of the boys.

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward the group and says, “They’re deaf, you know?” He laughs. “Your whistle is pretty ineffectual.”

“Then let’s hope they can all swim.”

“They’re confined to the shallow end.” He grins at me.

I look at the boys. They’re watching Pete from where they’re still hitting the ball back and forth. “They like you,” I say. Of course they do. Everyone likes Pete. Even my dad likes him, though I’m not sure he likes the burgeoning relationship between us.

“They like you more,” he says. “I told them I was going to come and put the moves on the pretty lifeguard.”

A grin tugs at my lips. He thinks I’m pretty. “You did not.”

“Oh, yes, I did.” He smiles, and my heart trips over. “Prepare to be moved, pretty lifeguard.” He hoists himself out of the pool, careful of his injured wrist as he goes up the ladder, and stalks toward me, water sluicing from his body. When he gets close to me, he stops and lays his crossed arms over my lap, and looks up at me. “You don’t mind me touching you, do you?” he asks.

My heart’s beating so fast I can’t take a deep breath, but it’s not because I’m afraid of him. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. “Apparently, my inner goddess is a slut. Yeah, I read Fifty Orgasms.”

He lays his forehead on his folded arms and laughs into the space, his shoulders shaking. I thump him on the top of his closely shaved head.

He covers his head with his hand and looks up, scowling at me. “What was that for?”

“You laughed at me.”

He snorts. “You were talking about Fifty Orgasms. Of course I laughed.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you even know what book I’m talking about?”

“Anastasia and what’s his name,” he says with a breezy wave. “I read it.”

My mouth falls open.

“The last one was the best.” He grins. “His surrender was kind of sweet.”

“He didn’t surrender.”

“What do you call it then?” He laughs. “He totally changed for her. And he loved every second of it.”