I open my eyes to sudden blinding light and the shape of a man; it’s hard to see him with the sun blaring over his head like he just beamed down from heaven. I lift my hand to shield my eyes and—OH MY GOSH, STOP IT RIGHT NOW! This can’t be one of Drew’s friends. Cooper Pooper is hot. My brain is short-circuiting looking at the miles and miles and miles of lean, tan, toned, tempting muscles. I’m sure I look insane just staring at him, all words drying up and getting stuck in my throat like I’ve never seen a man before. But the truth is, I’ve never seen a man like HIM—not outside of the movies, at least.
His tousled blond hair hangs in styled yet effortlessly beachy waves, just long enough to swoop over one eyebrow and curl up at the nape of his neck like it has to be rebellious. His eyes are bright, kick-you-in-the-stomach, crystal-clear-Tahiti-water blue, and his smile is all blinding-white teeth against bronze tanned skin. Someone give me a piece of glass—I think I could cut it using his jaw. I’m sorry, but the truth is, this guy makes all other men look like frumpy little boys who should just go home and stop trying.
Maybe I already have sun poisoning and I’m just hallucinating. He’s too gorgeous to be real.
“Nice to finally meet you, Lucy.” The hallucination speaks!
Oh gosh, that means I have to speak too. He holds out his hand for me to shake, and suddenly, I’m an idiot who should never leave her house. My brain has never needed to act under this kind of pressure before and can’t handle the sight of his large hand waiting for my skin to touch his skin, and WOW, my mind is making this way more sensual than it needs to be. Because my thoughts are all tripping over themselves, I extend my LEFT hand (not my right, like a normal person would for a handshake) to receive his greeting. Yep, it’s true, and it’s painfully awkward as I wrap my fingers around his like I’m a dainty little English crumpet and then just kinda jiggle his hand side to side like it’s a fish.
Yeah, it’s cool, I’ll just jump off the boat now.
“Hi,” I say, holding out the H sound a little too long and then abruptly letting go of his hand. I look like a robot that just got doused in water and is malfunctioning.
His dirty-blond brows climb up his forehead and mingle with his wavy locks. Then he gives me an amused, tilted smile, and my whole world flips on end. I’d bet he’s not fazed or all that surprised by my oddness because this is such a normal reaction to him. He just assumes this is how women behave.
Drew pops into existence beside Cooper and does that man-friend slap-on-the-back thing. “You’ll have to excuse Lucy today. She’s a little out of sorts from the move.”
“It’s cool,” says Cooper with a melting smile that makes me want to giggle. “And a breakup with your boyfriend, right? Drew filled me in.”
Has swallowing always been this difficult? “Boyfriend?”
Drew scoffs with a smile. “Yeah. Tim—remember him? The reason you had melted chocolate smeared all over your face about an hour ago?” I’m going to kick my brother.
I want to yell, BE COOL, MAN! Clearly this is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen before, so how about let’s not tell him I’ve been stuffing my face with candy and am a complete loser, okay?
“Oh, yes. Him. Tim. Yeah, we broke up. Donezo. It’s over—totally over.” Stop talking, Lucy!
This is not okay or fair. I’m not prepared for this. I shouldn’t be faced with a man of this caliber so soon after a breakup with a completely lukewarm guy. If this were a video game, I’d have just somehow stumbled over a cheat code and would now be facing the final boss to defeat. Level 100: Brother’s Hot Best Friend.
Drew is seriously looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, and guess what? I have. “Luce, I think you need some sleep.”
No, I need to make out with Cooper.
“Yeah,” I say with a breathy laugh that’s uncomfortable for everyone. I hop up from my seat and go dig in the cooler for a water just to have a reason to look away from Cooper and gather my senses. “I think I’m dehydrated. It’s hot out here, right?”
No one answers, but both men look a little stunned as I guzzle water. I’m so thirsty.
Finally, Drew shakes his head and steps closer to me so he can drop his voice. “Hey, you okay?” He’s surprisingly tender right now, misreading my actions as those of a woman who’s about to break down into a heartbroken sob rather than cackling nervous laughter.
That’s fine. I’d rather him think I’m losing it over Tim than salivating at the sight of the perfect male specimen at the front of the boat. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…processing everything still.”
If he’s not buying it, Drew doesn’t let on. He gives me a quick hug then turns to sit in the captain’s seat and start up the boat.
“Alright, let’s get out of here before the marina gets too busy. Cooper, will you untie us?”
He does. But first, Cooper rakes his hand through his hair and settles a flat-bill hat backward on his head, taking his sexiness up to an unhealthy range. I watch from the corner of my eye like a stealthy assassin.
Once we’re idling through the marina, Cooper plops down onto one of the bench seats at the front and extends his long legs out in front of him, staring out at the lake. Drew looks over his shoulder at me still standing in the far back corner of the boat and eyes me like he’s afraid I might need to be life-flighted to the hospital. “You gonna sit down? I’m about to take off.”
“Oh. Sure.” Would it be weird if I just sat down right here on the floor?
I think Drew knows I’m contemplating it because he jerks his head toward the front and lowers his voice. “Go sit up there with Cooper. He’s a nice guy. I wouldn’t have invited him out here if I thought he would be rude to you.”
HA! He thinks I’m afraid to go sit by Cooper because I’m worried he’s going to hit on me. The absurdity of this makes me want to double over with laughter.
I don’t want to go sit by Cooper because I wasn’t expecting the sexiest man alive to be joining us on this boating adventure today and therefore I have the legs of a woolly mammoth. Also, I had every intention of scaring off whatever horrid, sweaty, greasy, snaggly friend Drew brought out with us, so I wore the most wholesome and frumpy one-piece the world has ever seen. It’s bad, friends. Real bad. It’s a swimsuit left over from my senior year swim meet a thousand years ago. It’s one of those special swim team brands that looks kinda tie dye but in the worst colors imaginable, and the fabric is no longer sleek and smooth. It’s ratty, and rough, and a little saggy in all the wrong places.
Luckily, I had the forethought to wear a cover-up, a garment that will not be leaving my body the entire day.
I swallow and try to force my legs to stop wobbling as I stumble my way out to the bow. I take my seat like we’re playing musical chairs and someone just cut the music so my seat was about to disappear. Why am I like this?
Sitting down, I tuck my legs tightly up under me so Cooper doesn’t get a peek at my one-inch-long leg hairs and keep my eyes set firmly to anywhere but at the man sitting to my right.
Drew throttles up, and the engine roars as the boat takes off, whipping my hair around my face. The wind is such a punk, trying to lift my cover-up just to embarrass me. I lock it down with my hands and wish to high heaven I were one of those women who looks effortlessly sexy all the time with her hair twirling around her face like a Disney princess. You know, the ones who never have to worry about shaving their legs because they go for routine waxes? The ones who would never hold on to a swimsuit from their high school years and only own little next-to-nothing numbers that show off their big boobies and tight buns.
Well, my boobs may be a little too much on gravity’s side, but they are big, a solid C cup (though you’d never know it by the way they are mashed down in this soul-sucking one-piece), but my buns are dimply. Honestly, I’m fine with my dimples because I like tacos and donuts, but one look at a man like Cooper tells me he would not be. I put him solidly in the Pilates instructors only category.
Trying to be stealthy, I sneak a sidelong peek, nearly jumping out of my skin and over the side of the motoring boat when I catch him looking at me too. Our eyes collide for one pounding heartbeat, and I think I see a dangerous twinkle in his before I rip my gaze from him and back out over the water. Surely he’s not twinkling at me? I bite my lips together and try to hold back an embarrassed smile. How am I going to make it through this day with him? I’m used to comfortable, snuggle-up-and-read-a-book Tim—not dangerous, eye-twinkling Cooper.
Thinking of Tim gives me an idea, though! When we pull into a cove and Drew cuts the engine, I reach for my tote bag and pull out a book. Just the feel of the warm matte cover between my fingers helps me relax. Yes, this is good. I can bury my nose in the pages like I normally do and let the story carry me to a different place.
A different place where Cooper isn’t rising from his seat, reaching for the back of his tank top, and yanking it off over his head. A place far, far away from the defined, rock-hard abdomen hovering perfectly in my line of sight. Oh gosh, it’s getting worse. Cooper pulls out a can of spray sunscreen and starts dousing his body in a nice, muscle-enhancing sheen then rubs it in, his large biceps and shoulders bunching and tensing as he moves.
I didn’t even realize seeing an Adonis V in real life was on my bucket list, but here we are, and I’m checking it off—and out.
“Good book?” Cooper’s voice rumbles at me, making me shamefully peel my eyes away from his six-pack up to his amused grin.
Busted.
My cheeks are lava, and all I can do is blink and turn my gaze back down to my book, begging it to magically transport me into its world. Because in this one, I have no idea how to interact with a man who looks like that. He’s all muscles and charisma, and right now, I’m 97% candy bars and MSG.
