I started paddling back to the boat, already breathing heavily from having to tread water for so long. Dean swam right past me, reached the ladder, and pulled himself up and out, all before I even got close to the boat. Show off. His tan, smooth chest glistened in the sun as he bent back down for my hand.

“I can get out myself,” I said, covering my chest with one arm and using the other arm to doggy paddle closer to the ladder. It was slow going, but I figured I’d get there eventually.

“The ladder isn’t stable. Stop being difficult and just let me help you,” he argued.

Me? DIFFICULT? So help me god, he was going to eat his words when I got onto that platform.

“I have strong arms. Turn around and let me get up.”

“Lily. Enough.”

The fire in my veins had nothing to do with treading water and everything to do with my anger toward Dean. I was right against the ladder, just below where he was hovering on the platform. I had one arm wrapped precariously around my chest and one arm desperately trying to keep me afloat…which left me with zero arms to reach for the ladder. Fuck me.

I had to suck it up and wait him out. Eventually he’d get bored and go inside, and I could lift myself out then. The muscles in my arm started cramping worse than ever, like they’d heard my thoughts and were desperately trying to convince me to abort my plan. My pain must have shown on my face because Dean bent lower, too annoyed to deal with my nonsense any longer.

“Lily, I’m going to help you up. You can yell all you want, but I’m not going to let you kill yourself because you’re afraid I’ll see your boobs.”

I tried to reach for the ladder with my swimming arm just as I felt his hands grasp my biceps. He yanked my arm away from where it covered my chest and hoisted me out of the water like he was lifting a bag of marshmallows. I didn’t even have time to fully comprehend the fact that my boobs were on full display before I felt one foot touch the edge of the platform.

I was on land again!

I wasn’t going to die!

Unfortunately, excitement set in a moment too soon. Just as I tried to set my other foot down on the platform, it slipped out from under me. Dean tried to hold me up, but I was already flailing forward like a fish. I couldn’t brace myself against him because he still had ahold of my arms. I fell in slow motion, confident my face was about to make contact with the hard platform, when instead, I landed face first against Dean’s crotch.

Wait. Let me clarify.

I’d been on the edge of the swim platform with Dean holding me up like a rag doll, and when I slipped, my face had hit his crotch with enough force to strip the paint off his bow, if you catch my drift. I was pretty sure I’d just broken Dean’s penis. Hello God? It’s me, Lily. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you have a shark jump out of the water and eat me? I’d really like to die a quick, painless death, preferably one that doesn’t involve my face colliding with Dean’s crotch any more.

Dean let out a guttural grown, let go of my arms, and collapsed back onto the swim platform. He squeezed his eyes shut and rocked from side to side with bent knees. I jumped up and leaned over him, gripping his shoulders in my hands.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

One of his eyes peered open and he shook his head, incapable of speech. Clearly, I’d just caused some serious damage.

“Do you need some ice? Should I blow on it?”

He laughed, and then groaned again. The joke was crass at best, but I needed a way to gauge how badly he was injured.

“Okay good, if you can laugh then you aren’t going to die.”

I heard footsteps on the stairs and glanced up to see Josephine, taking them two at a time. With all the excitement, I hadn’t even noticed that she’d left the swim platform. “I’ve got it! Here, Lily, I’ve got something for you to wear!”

I glanced down to my chest, remembered it was bare, and then jumped off Dean. Jeez, I’d just played the role of slutty nurse really well. Oh please, let me help you while I shove my boobs in your face.

“You perv! You could have reminded me that I was topless,” I said, holding my arms over my chest.

Dean opened his eyes and glared up at me. “Yeah, sorry, I was a little busy trying not to throw up from pain.”

Josephine thrust a bright red thing in front of my face. “Here, put this on.”

A normal person would have grabbed a t-shirt or a towel. What did Josephine grab? A giant, puffy life vest—the kind you find on cheap paddleboats. It would cover my boobs, but only barely.

“Seriously Jo? Seriously?”

She glared at me, holding it out for me to take. “What?! It was the only thing I could find. Just put it on.”

I huffed and took it from her. It wouldn’t cover me completely, but it was better than nothing. I turned away from Dean and quickly pulled it on over my head. I buckled it in front of my chest and tightened the black strap as tight as it would go. By the time I turned back around, Dean was staring up at me with a blank expression.

“What?” I asked, glancing down to confirm that the life vest was covering me.

Josephine laughed. “He’s probably just recalling all of his boyhood Playboy fantasies.”

He shook his head and pushed up to stand. He towered over me, tall and lean. I could smell the ocean air mixed with his body wash.

“More like Baywatch,” he corrected with a little smirk.

I groaned with embarrassment. “Could we just pretend that you didn’t see any of that?” I pleaded.

He arched a brow and met my eye. There was an emotion concealed behind his gaze that I hadn’t seen before, at least not from him.

“Not possible,” he said, shaking his head. I watched him take the stairs back up to the deck and realized that the tension brewing between the two of us wasn’t gone. Our time together on the boat had morphed it into something much harder to control…

Chapter Twenty-One

Lily

After the boat ride from hell, I knew it’d be hard to face Dean at work. I stayed in bed late on Sunday, trying to recreate my memory of the events from the day before. Sometimes I could convince myself that I’d looked cool and sexy with my life preserver on, and then other times my brain replayed the moment when my face collided with Dean’s crotch over and over again like a perfectly looped video that never seemed to end.

When I checked my email that night and saw Dean’s name, I half expected the subject line to read “Obviously, You’re Fired.”

From: Dean Harper

To: Lily Black, Julian Lefray, Zoe Davis, Hunter Smith

Subject: LVRW

As you know, we have a very busy week coming up. We leave for LVRW on Wednesday so I’d like to have a meeting at my house tomorrow morning. We’ll go over the flight, accommodations, and our schedules for the few days we’ll be in Vegas.

My address is below. We’ll start at 9:30 AM.

D. Harper

Huh. No mention of how his crotch-el region was healing up. I’d take that as a good sign.

…

I stood on Dean’s doorstep and knocked, but no one answered. I rang the doorbell, but it felt useless. His front door was black, shiny, and solid. There were no windows to peer through, and the windows along the foyer were dark.

I spun in a circle, trying to decide if I was at the correct house. His Upper West Side townhouse was tucked in a row of stately brownstones. Down the block, I’d passed a neighborhood deli with trendy French tables and ivy vines that looked like they’d been growing for the last hundred years. I’d almost stopped inside for a latte, but I hadn’t wanted to run late. Now, however, it seemed the latte would have been useful. I yawned and tried to cover it, telling myself I wasn’t actually as tired as I felt. Sleep had been elusive the last two nights. I’d filled my days with work, but at night, when my head hit my pillow and I had a moment alone with my thoughts, I’d replay my encounters with Dean.