“Yep, so we’ll have to figure out which one of us is going to stay sober.”
“Maybe we could both take it easy?” Zane says, raises an eyebrow. “After all, there’s going to be drinking tomorrow night, too.”
“That’s a good point.” I sigh.
We look around the room and make up a story about the fellow patrons.
“You know, I just remembered something,” Zane says, cutting through my musings about an old man seated alone at the bar.
“What’s that?” I turn my attention back onto Zane.
I have to admit, even in a T-shirt and jeans — for once he’s not in an army T-shirt — he looks pretty damn good. Better than that, he looks damn hot.
“I know where I want to go instead.”
“You said you remembered something,” I point out.
“I remembered how, that year I took off before the army, there was that skinny dipping trip when you were home for spring break,” Zane explains.
“Oh God, that,” I say, shaking my head as I start to remember it too.
“You chickened out,” Zane smirks.
“I didn’t chicken out. I had other things to do that night,” I insist.
“You chickened out,” Zane counters.
“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.
“Which makes me think we should go to the lake after this,” Zane says.
“Why? No one’s going to be there,” I say.
“We could buy a couple of beers on the way, hang out, sit around and drink,” Zane says.
“We’re not going to find dates there,” I point out.
“At this point I think we’ve both come to the conclusion we’re not looking for a date,” Zane counters with a smirk.
“I guess,” I say hesitantly.
But there’s a little jolt of heat working its way through me, and something about the alcohol makes the blood rush into my face.
“So shall we? I’ll pay our tab, and we can head out.”
I look at Zane for a long moment. “We split the tab, and then we’ll head out,” I say.
Zane looks like he’s going to argue the point, but he extends his hand and we shake, sealing the deal.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ZANE LEWIS
Harper pulls her car up to the little cleared-out area next to the lake we’ve been coming to since we were old enough to swim, and I look at Harper.
“I still can’t believe you chickened out,” I say.
“I keep telling you I didn’t. I just had something to do that night,” Harper insists.
“Well, have you ever gone skinny dipping then? Maybe at that fancy university you went to?”
“I went the very next night, actually,” she tells me, smiling.
“What?” My eyes widen and I stare at her.
“The night after you and Julia and all the others went to the lake, I decided it was stupid of me never to go skinny dipping, so I went to the lake by myself,” Harper says.
“Thus ruining the entire point of going skinny dipping,” I say, shaking my head.
Harper rolls her eyes. “The point of skinny dipping is to go swimming naked,” she says.
“It’s to do that with other people,” I tell her. “The whole point is being with people you’re not entirely sure you want to see you naked. Like a cute guy, or that girl you like, or your friends. It’s about the rush of being a little bit scared you might get caught, or laughed at.”
“It’s to be naked in the water,” Harper insists.
“Did you ever go skinny dipping with someone?”
I insisted on buying a six-pack as Harper insisted on paying for her half of the bill. The beer is still cold as we get out of the car and walk down along the grassy area leading to the shore of the lake. I think we were maybe three the first time our parents brought us here. All I know is that some of my earliest memories were at this lake.
“If you want to get technical, when we were babies and came here, I skinny dipped, by your definition,” Harper says.
It’s starting to get dark, and there are only a handful of safety lights, enough to walk back from the shore. A couple more illuminate the water, more to make sure people know it’s there than anything else.
“That doesn’t count either,” I tell her.
“Why not? You said it’s swimming naked with other people,” Harper insists. She’s got that prissy, hot-librarian look again, and it actually turns me on, just a little bit.
“You don’t get the thrill when you’re a baby because when you’re a baby you have no idea that being naked is supposed to be, like…” I don’t want to say ‘wrong’ but it’s something along those lines.