The Hazards of Skinny Dipping
Read The Hazards of Skinny Dipping Online
Authors: Alyssa Rose Ivy
Tags: #romance, #romantic comedy, #contemporary romance, #sorority, #college romance, #new adult, #new adult romance
Copyright 2013 Alyssa Rose Ivy
Cover Design: Once Upon a Time Covers
Formatted by
IRONHORSE
Formatting
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. Without limiting the
rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the
prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above
publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not
authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark
owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you
share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase
it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should
return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the author's work.
Flight
(The Crescent Chronicles #1)
Focus
(The Crescent Chronicles #2)
Found (The Crescent Chronicles #3)
Coming
July 2013
Beckoning
Light (The Afterglow Trilogy #1)
Perilous
Light (The Afterglow Trilogy #2)
To Grant, thank you for being with me every step of
the way.
I can’t imagine trying to write a book
without the support of my family. Grant, your encouragement and
unwavering faith means the world to me. Thanks to Karen Allen—your
editing and sense of humor are priceless. To Kris Kendall, your
proofread went above and beyond. To Stephanie Nelson, once again
you’ve created an amazing cover for me. To Jessica Watterson, I’m
so glad to have you on as a beta. Jennifer Snyder, your friendship
and advice are worth more than you’ll ever know. Kelly Simmon, I’m
so excited to be working with you—thanks for giving me so much
encouragement with this project. To the bloggers dedicating their
time to helping me spread the word about my books—you’re the best.
And to my readers—once again, thanks for taking this journey with
me.
Skinny dipping was the last thing on my list.
Of the five items, it was the hardest one for me. It wasn’t a
bucket list or anything like that—I wasn’t thinking about death. It
was a things-to-do-before-college list my cousin, Amy, made for
me.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is
going to be one of those stories about the death of a loved one
spurring a girl down a path of self-discovery. It’s not. My cousin
is alive and well, and at the time of this story was in Malawi with
the Peace Corps. The list was her way of preparing me for the wilds
of college (her words, not mine). Amy was under the impression that
I was entirely unprepared for the life of a coed.
I still remember her exact words. We were
hanging out in her room at her parents’ house while she packed.
“Juliet, sweetheart, you know I love you, right?”
I glanced at her apprehensively. “Yeah…”
“So know that, when I say this, it’s out of
love.” She tossed a huge pile of t-shirts into her large black
duffel.
I tensed. “Should I be scared?”
“No.” She smiled her million-dollar,
brings-guys-to-their-knees smile, and I knew I should actually be
terrified.
“Okay.” I clasped my hands together, refusing
to look at my chipped nail polish.
She flipped long, dark hair off her shoulder.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Worried?”
“I don’t want you to totally drown next
year.” She shoved a small, pink envelope into my hand. “Here, don’t
open this until after graduation.”
“But you won’t be here. You leave
tomorrow.”
She gave me her signature ‘duh’ look. “I’m
well aware. Just open it, and do exactly what it says.”
“This kind of feels like the beginning of a
YA novel.”
She laughed. “No. Trust me. The contents of
this letter are not YA appropriate.”
My stomach dropped. What was Amy getting me
into?
I brought the envelope home and stared at it
about four times a day for the next two weeks. Obviously, I could
have just opened it, but I’m usually kind of a rules person. Each
time I started to tear open the envelope, I chickened out. I kept
picturing Amy’s perfectly made up face yelling at me. I know that
description doesn’t quite fit with a girl who joined the Peace
Corps, but if you knew Amy, you’d understand. She was just Miss
Perfect. It wasn’t until I got home from a graduation party at a
friend’s house that I finally opened it. As I unfolded the pale
pink paper, a Georgia driver’s license saying I was twenty-two fell
into my lap. I set aside the fake ID and read the note.
Juliet’s Must-Do Before College List
Get drunk (and no, a buzz from sugary drinks
does not qualify as drunk).Go to a bar. Any bar will do, but you need
to at least know what they look like inside.Wear something you know would give your
father a heart attack if he saw it.Kiss a random guy, and don’t let it go
further.Go skinny dipping.
I’m sure you expect me to detail how I
crossed the first four items off my list, but this story isn’t
about the first four. It’s about what happened when I did number
five.
Finally alone, I reveled in the silence,
looking out the large floor-to-ceiling windows of my family’s beach
house. My grandparents had bought the house located just outside of
Charleston, South Carolina years ago, before Kiawah became a
retreat for millionaires. They were generous and let the entire
extended family use it whenever we wanted. After two weeks of
sharing the house with five other people, I was excited to have it
to myself.
I’d decided to stay an extra day, craving
some alone time before I had to give up all of my privacy and move
in with some random girl. The whole idea of having a roommate
sounded good in theory, but knowing my luck, I’d be living with my
exact opposite or something even worse.
Sitting cross-legged on the ultra-comfy bed
(now that everyone had left, I had moved up from the pull-out
couch), I took the now crinkled letter out of my green REI
backpack. Go s
kinny dipping
. If I was ever going to do it,
an empty beach house was the perfect place. Besides, I was running
out of time. School started in just a few weeks.
It was already after nine, and the last
remnants of the sun had disappeared. I picked out my favorite red
bikini and changed. I’d have to ease into the whole thing, maybe
jump in the pool and then take it off. It’s funny that getting
drunk and kissing a random guy didn’t scare me, but getting naked
in a pool seemed terrifying. I just wasn’t comfortable being naked.
I knew my body wasn’t bad. I was decently thin with curves in all
the right places—namely my chest. The few guys I’d been with always
seemed happy enough with my body, but I still didn’t like shedding
my clothes. I know some girls walk around their rooms naked. Not
me. I was dried off and in clothes within minutes of getting out of
the shower. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I loved sitting around
in a towel, but you had to be careful doing that when you lived in
a house with a couple of brothers.
I changed into my bikini and headed outside.
One side of the house bordered the woods, and the house on the
other side had been empty for the two weeks I’d been at the beach.
I knew that well. I’d been disappointed when the Bradleys failed to
show up.
Something was still missing. If I was going
skinny dipping, I was going to do it right. I went back inside to
get my iPod. I plugged it into the outside stereo system and
selected my workout list. I needed something upbeat.
Satisfied with the musical selection, I
jumped in. I wasn’t good with the whole easing myself in slowly
thing. Too cold that way.
It was only after I’d jumped in that I
realized I’d forgotten one important thing—a towel. I thought about
getting out for one, but then I’d get cold. There was no sense
going through it twice.
I dove under the surface and tried to make
myself relax. It wasn’t a big deal. I needed to pretend it was a
bath—a big, outside bath. I pulled the elastic out of my hair,
letting my long, light brown hair fall down my back. My mom called
my hair dirty blonde, but I hated anything with the name dirty. It
was light brown.
I finally made myself do it. I untied my top
and slipped off the bottoms. Oh my god, I’d done it. I was actually
naked. I flung both pieces to the side, trying to get them to land
on one of the lounge chairs, but somehow they ended up on the
decking underneath. It didn’t really matter since I wouldn’t be
putting them back on. I’d just run up to my room and change.
Amy hadn’t specified how long I needed to
skinny dip, but I figured I needed to at least swim around a
little. The more I did it, the less weird it seemed. It felt
liberating. The water was warm enough, and with only a few lights
illuminating the pool, I didn’t feel overly exposed.
That excitement lasted maybe another five
minutes until I saw headlights pull into the neighbor’s driveway.
Unfortunately, they had one of those windy driveways that curved
around to a garage in back. If the driver happened to look through
the trees and shrubs, I’d be spotted. Before I panicked, I
reassured myself that it was too dark for anyone to actually see
anything.
I didn’t have much time to worry. The car
stopped, and a tall figure stepped out.
“Hey, is that you, Juliet?” It may have been
dark, but I’d know that voice anywhere. It was deep and incredibly
sexy.
I wanted to slip under the water and never
come back up. Dylan Bradley was talking to me while I was naked.
“Uh, yeah. Hi, Dylan.” To this day, I blame it on the music. If
Katy Perry hadn’t been blaring, he might never have looked.
“Isn’t it a little late for a swim?”
“Not really. I like staying up late.” Could I
sound lamer?
He disappeared, but I knew it wasn’t over. He
reappeared a moment later through a patch of trees.
I treaded water in the deepest part of the
pool, hoping the dim lighting hid how completely naked I was.
“Mind if I turn that down?” He pointed up at
the speakers.
“Sure. The controls are—”
“Behind the bar. I know.” Dylan had spent
plenty of nights swimming at our house. Even though his house was
far bigger, his dad had refused to put in a pool. Mr. Bradley
claimed that if you were at the beach, you didn’t need a manmade
concrete hole to swim in.