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“We have a deal. So what are you thinking?”

I puffed my cheeks. “Damn. All right. Here we go.” I looked her in the eye. “You know, this exercise is a flawed experiment because the second you asked me, my brain started to catalog all the things I’d rather you didn’t know and now that’s the stuff I’m thinking about.”

She smiled.

I paused for a moment. “I’m thinking that I like you a lot more than I thought I would. I’m thinking that I probably smell because it’s hot and all my deodorant washed off in the pool, and that this place would be the perfect place to kiss you like I’m supposed to, but I wouldn’t because of the deodorant thing. I’m thinking that this whole thing with your mom and Neil feels weird and I can’t put my finger on why. I’m thinking that I don’t like her because she’s ignoring you for some guy she just met, and I feel bad that I don’t like her because I know you do. And then I’m wondering if I’m too hard on people, because I can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier, that you should always choose empathy, and if you can choose empathy with someone like that, I should be able to do it with people I love—but I can’t. I’m thinking your bathing suit looks too tight and it looks uncomfortable like it’s going to leave lines on your skin. I’m thinking about what those lines would look like when you take it off—not in a sexual way, but also sort of in a sexual way.” I felt my face starting to heat up a little. “Aaaaand now I’m wondering if I’ve said too much and what you’re thinking.”

She was grinning. “Wow. That’s… a lot.”

“Yeah. I agree.”

“Do you regret this deal?”

“Right now, in this moment, a little bit, yeah.”

She laughed.

“Now you,” I said. “What are you thinking?”

She looked at me thoughtfully. “I’m thinking that I’m embarrassed that you noticed my mom is ignoring me. I’m worried you think something’s weird about Neil and her, because what if you’re right? I’m thinking that you do smell a little like sweat, but that I like it for some reason. And I’m also thinking this would be a good place for you to kiss me, but now that I know you’re self-conscious, I hope you don’t because you’ll be uncomfortable. And I also think my bathing suit is too tight, and I’ll have lines when I take it off, and that I really, really want to take it off because it’s starting to hurt.”

“You like the way I smell?” I grinned.

“I do. Also, I’m sorry you have to kiss me. It sounds like a tough job,” she said, putting out her bottom lip. “But you might want to.”

She was flirting? I beamed. “I might not want to,” I said.

I might not want to.”

“Oh, you will.”

She twisted her lips. “Hmmmmm. Well, I do love a man with confidence.”

“I’ve never kissed someone for the sake of breaking a curse before,” I said.

“Me either.”

“Good. We’ll be unencumbered by technique.”

She laughed. It was a loose, tinkling sound and I loved that I got it from her. When she came down from it, she sighed. “I just hope she doesn’t do anything bad to him.”

“Is that why you’re worried about this?” I nodded in the general direction of the pool.

“There are only two types of relationships my mom gets into. The ones where they ruin her life and the ones where she ruins theirs.”

“And which kind is this?”

“Definitely the second one.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. He seems like a smart guy. He can probably handle himself.”

“Yeah,” she said, but it didn’t sound like she believed it. She peered over at me. “Tell me about your mom, Justin. What’s she like?”

Now I blew out a long breath. “Well, she’s funny. Hardworking. She reads any book she can get her hands on and she remembers everything she reads, even years later. She had me really young. Same age Amber had you, actually. She’s a good mom, always shows up for us—school stuff, birthdays. She makes these Italian cookies every Christmas and Easter that make me think of my childhood.”

She smiled softly. “She sounds really great.”

“Yeah. She is.”

“But?”

So she sensed the “but.” “You know, if you would have told me yesterday that today I’d be sitting half naked in a million-dollar yacht with you, I wouldn’t have believed it,” I said, changing the subject.

She laughed. Then she gazed at me with those kaleidoscope eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I am.”

The corner of my lip twitched.

“You know, I just realized you’re the first boyfriend my mom has ever met,” she said.

I grinned. “Boyfriend?

“You know what I mean.” She gave my knee a little push.

“No, I’ll be your boyfriend. Sign me up. I mean, we’re not supposed to be dating anyone else, so we are technically exclusive. It’s not far off,” I said.

Are sens

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