Summer of Sloane (13 page)

With another grunt, he makes his way toward the kitchen.

“My brother’s not much of a morning person, sorry.” Luce actually does look sorry as we both watch Finn pour a large mug of coffee. I’m honestly a little relieved to know it’s not me and that the guy just needs some caffeine to wake up. “I tried to tell him he could stay home today, but he wasn’t having it. Don’t tell him I told you, but I think he likes being around you.”

Her eyes go wide, and she sucks in both of her lips trying to hide her grin, then walks out toward the pool before I get the chance to make her spill more details.

I feel someone staring at me and turn to find Finn standing a few feet away. Instantly, my cheeks jump up on the redness scale as I wonder if he heard what his sister just told me. In hopes he doesn’t see my face, I hurry out to the pool, where Luce is waiting.

Finn follows me out from the living room, kicks off his flip-flops, and casually tugs his T-shirt over his head. I try not to stare as he lies down on one of the teak loungers next to the pool, but I can’t help it. Even half-asleep, the guy still looks like a magazine ad for suntan lotion.

Slipping into the water with Luce, I go over everything she’s learned, then show her how to put it all together. She falters a little at first and occasionally has to stand up and take a deep breath, but soon enough, she’s swimming from one side of the shallow end to the other. Finn watches us the entire time, and like before, I constantly find myself sneaking glances his way. He catches me every time, and by the third glance, that eyebrow of his arches up like a cat that wants its back scratched. I have to fight the urge to slap a spray of water in his direction.

I haven’t gone over turns yet with Luce, so when she reaches the wall, she stops and grabs the edge, then turns around and swims back to the other side. My brother comes out and shades his eyes with one hand, then gives a thumbs-up when Luce finally swims from one side to the other without standing up.

“Wow, she’s doing great!” Penn says. “Hey, Finn, what’s up?” He and Finn fist-bump as my brother takes the chair next to his.

“How about you swim out to me now?” I say, treading water in the middle of the pool. She’s done most of her work in the shallow end and hasn’t really ventured out to the deeper part, but I know she can do it.

She takes a deep breath and kicks off from the end of the pool, swimming toward me. She takes another breath, alternating each side with every third stroke, like I taught her. As she gets closer to me, I back up, until she finally comes to a stop on the far side of the pool. She grabs the edge, snapping off her goggles as she looks around and realizes how far she just swam.

“No
way
…”

“Yes way!” I cheer, smiling like an idiot.

“Way to go, Lemon!” Finn shouts, and pumps his fists, and something inside me melts just a little. He and Penn come to the edge of the pool, and Finn holds a hand out for her to give him a high five, then she turns and gives me one, too, and then slaps my brother’s outstretched hand.

Since we’re all high-fiving, I turn to Finn and hold up my hand—but when he goes to slap it, I grab it instead and yank him into the water. I can’t believe he fell for that old trick. Luce squeals loudly as water splashes her way, and when her brother breaks the surface, he spits water in my direction.

“Oh, you did
not
just do that. I really hope you can swim.”

Luce squeals again and cheers for me as I take a deep breath and shove off for the other side of the pool, Finn hot on my tail.

He’s fast.

But I’m faster.

I reach the shallow end and dart up the stairs and out of the pool, running toward the beach and the open ocean beyond. If I can just get there, he won’t have a chance.

“You should’ve stayed in the water; that’s definitely more your element,” he says, his voice low and way too close to my ear. An arm curls around my waist as my feet splash into the water, but then I’m lifted up and he’s launching me high into the air and toward the oncoming waves.

I curl into a ball and take another deep breath as I plummet down, down, down. When I break the surface, he’s right there, his brilliant blue eyes flashing with mischief, daring me to even try to get past him. Like he said, this is my element—he does realize that, right? But then a softness touches his face.

“I can’t thank you enough for getting her back in the water.” His hands find their way to my waist, supporting me so I no longer need to tread. “You know, you really are good at the whole teaching thing. Guess you’re not too bad at the swimming part, either.”

Beads of water slide down his nose and drop off as he looks out at the ocean. But even from the side, I can see the smile he thinks he’s hiding.

“So, whatever. I’m
amazing
at the swimming part—I beat you back there in the pool, didn’t I? And that was
with
this dumb cast, that’s all I’m saying.” This time there’s no hiding the grin that takes over his entire face, and it’s a good thing I’m floating out in the ocean because I’m pretty sure my own legs wouldn’t be able to hold me up if we were on land. “Hey, we’re having some people over tonight if you guys wanna come back later? My mom and stepdad went to Maui for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary, so we’ve got the house to ourselves. Nothing big, just barbecuing, maybe watch a movie.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be here. But Luce has a slumber party tonight with some friends. The invite still open if I come alone?” He waits, like he actually thinks I’ll say no. And then his smile totally catches me off guard, and I can’t help but return it with one of my own. “What can I bring?”

Later that afternoon, Penn and I head to the grocery store to pick up enough food to feed half of Waikiki. That’s in addition to the mass amounts my mom made sure to pack the fridge and cupboards with before she left, giving us the okay to throw a party.

By the time everyone starts to arrive, we already have the barbecue going with marinated steak and chicken. Shep and my brother carry in a keg and set it out on the patio, where tiki torches are lit and paper lanterns and white twinkle lights zigzag over the pool.

I’m talking to Mia when the doorbell rings. Everyone else simply walked right in, so I have a feeling I know who it is. I open the door to find Finn standing there with a platter of fresh fruit. It was the only thing I could think of for him to bring, even though it had sounded so lame. I can’t believe he actually did.

“You made a fruit plate—that’s awesome!” I laugh as I take it from his hands since his other arm is loaded full of bags. “Come on in.”

“Actually, the kitchen at the hotel made it, I just carried it here.” He heads straight to the freezer and unloads several bags of Popsicles and ice cream bars. “I wasn’t sure what else to bring, so I went with dessert.”

“Believe me, you brought more than enough. Thanks for doing that, by the way.”

He follows me out onto the patio, and we stand in line for food as Penn—armed and ready with tongs—starts dishing out the goods from the grill. Once our plates are full, we make our way to find somewhere to sit, but unfortunately, all the chairs around the pool have been taken.

“We can sit out on the beach,” I say, motioning toward the sand. His plastic fork is sticking out from his mouth, since his hands are occupied carrying his own plate, plus two cans of soda for the both of us, so he only nods. My own plate is dangerously sagging under the weight of all the food I’ve piled on, and Finn cautiously eyes how it teeters in my hand.

“Hold up,” he says, but it comes out more like “Holeup” as he tries to talk around his fork. He sets his plate down and jabs his fork into the mac salad, then plunks both cans of soda down before turning to take my food. “Your table awaits, Miss McIntyre.”

He sweeps his hand toward the beach with a brilliant smile, and for some reason, I stand there like a complete dork as I stare at his mouth.

“Th…thank you?”

He clears his throat and those lips of his turn into something more of a smirk. I realize I’m still staring, so I quickly flop down in the sand. He takes his place next to me and hands me my soda, which I trade for his napkin. I have to admit, he makes things easy, or, I guess I should really say, easier. And I think I like that.

When we’ve finished eating, I snag one of the nearby volleyballs from our yard and roll it toward Mia, then motion toward the net set up on the beach. Oh yeah, we’re so playing some volleyball.

“Come on, Finn—let’s see if you’re at least better at volleyball than you are at swimming.”

He kicks sand my way and shakes his head. “You sure talk big for someone your size. Besides, how good can you be with only one arm?”

He may have me there, but I’m not worried in the least. Because once we pick teams, I end up with both Shep and Mia, so not only do I have the height on this side of the net, but Mia also happens to be the captain on her school’s volleyball team. I almost feel bad when Finn ends up being paired with my brother and Drew from the activities counter. I have a feeling I practically won’t even have to play.

“This almost doesn’t seem fair. I mean, you’ve got a one-armed dwarf on your team.” Finn mockingly lays a hand over his heart. My brother scoffs and shakes his head for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, that was the wrong thing to say, Finn. So the wrong thing to say,” Mia mutters.

I may be short, but my height has never stopped me before. Even with me down a limb, we win three games to two.

Afterward, Finn and I stroll along the beach, the last traces of the sun streaking across the sky as if it doesn’t want to go down without a fight. We sit in the sand, and his knee brushes against mine. I fight to hold back the shiver that tries to break free with every small touch of his skin.

“You know, you’re pretty crafty for a midget, right? And who knew you could play with only one arm. I mean you’re not even left-handed!”

I stare at him in mock disbelief. “Whatever. It’s not my fault you picked the wrong team.”

“You aren’t serious, right? Like I could’ve guessed that at your height you can actually spike the ball over the net? I mean, you can walk under the damn thing without ducking, how the hell was I supposed to know you could practically jump over it, too?”

“Guess we don’t know a whole lot about each other then, do we?” We grin at one another. “Quick,” I say. “Give me your most embarrassing moment, and don’t leave out the good stuff. Go!” I shoot him a challenging look, wondering if he’ll actually play along.

He surprises me when he does.

“Hmmm. Well, I don’t really embarrass that easily, but if I had to pick something—or better yet, some
one
I’m most embarrassed by—I’d have to say my father owns that category completely.”

Shit. I was expecting something silly. I quirk my mouth to the side, which makes him laugh, like he knows he caught me off guard. But that’s fine, because I’m not done with him yet.

“Okay, what’s your most recent happy memory?”

“That’s easy. I’d have to say my sister getting back in the water. Which you know you’re responsible for, so thanks for that.” The way he says it makes me feel proud. Not only because I had something to do with his most recent happy memory, but also because I know how important Luce is to him. I watch as he scoops up a handful of sand and lets it slide through his fingers, covering one of his feet. “Same two questions right back ’atcha. Go.”

“Huh. Maybe I should’ve thought out these questions a little more.” I trace a swirl in the sand that’s covering his foot. “Well, aside from puking on you—which is seriously right up there at the top of my all-time list of most embarrassing moments
ever
—I’d probably have to go with these stupid anxiety-driven asthma attacks I sometimes have. And something that’s made me happy lately? Well, maybe you should ask me that question again in a month or so.”

“Oh, come on, that’s a cop-out.” He kicks the sand that’s sitting on his foot over toward mine. “There’s got to be something.”

I
really
should’ve thought about these questions more thoroughly when I asked him to answer them first.

“I think it’s kind of obvious I’ve had a crappy couple of weeks.” I hold up my cast as if that’s supposed to prove my point. “But if you’re fine with me not choosing something super recent, I’d have to say placing second in the fifty free at nationals this past March was pretty awesome.”

“Wow, only second in the country? Yeah, you better work on that.” He stares back out at the water, a smart-ass smile taking a curve to his lips. “So what are you supposed to do?”

Confused, I stare at him.

“When one of these anxiety-driven asthma attacks strikes. Is it something an inhaler can fix? And how long have you had them?”

I draw small circles in the sand. “I’ve had them for almost four years. And sometimes my inhaler works; sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve learned to deal with them in other ways.”

“Other ways how?”

“Huh, my one thing I’m most embarrassed about and you’re making me talk about it? Gee, thanks.” I bump him with my shoulder. In all honesty, I can’t believe I’m talking about this with him, but he actually sounds genuinely interested, so somehow that makes it okay. “I’ve learned to focus on something in my mind, an image that I have to build up from scratch. I layer in piece by piece until the picture is whole again, and usually by then, I’ve managed to get my breathing back under control—at least, it works most of the time. An inhaler is still a good thing to have on hand, so I don’t usually travel too far without one.”

“See? This is useful information to have and I feel like I know you better already. You puke on random strangers, you can spike a volleyball over a six-foot net, you swim like you have a 350-horsepower engine strapped to your ass, and…well, you’re a little cuckoo. Awesome.” I make a face, and he bursts out laughing, not hiding from me this time.

“Funny much? I’m so glad I can keep you entertained.”

“More than you know, Sloane. More than you know.” He laughs again, then nudges me with his shoulder. “Quick, without explaining why, if you had to choose, would you rather lose an arm or a leg? Go.”