Chapter Twenty-Five
Dylan
“Hey, you in there?” Tristan waved his glove in front of Dylan’s face. “I asked if you want to practice this afternoon.”
Camp had gone by in a blur, punctuated only by a quick hello and good-bye to Lucy. Joking around with her last night had launched him out of bed this morning, wondering what the hell she had planned for tonight. Otis had even talked to him, though he was a little shy, like he didn’t know where he stood. Dylan had focused a fair amount of attention on him, so he knew everything was cool. For the rest of the day, his mind kept wandering to the marina: the idea of dusk, singing cicadas, and a pretty girl with crazy ideas.
“Oh, sorry. I was just…yeah, I need to practice a little. I rested Sunday, so I should be rested enough, but shouldn’t take chances.” Dylan bent to pick up baseballs scattered all over the infield from the hitting practice the outfielders took against his pitchers that morning. “Let’s grab some lunch.”
Tristan squinted up at the sun. “Good plan. Even better—Alyssa’s dad updated the batting practice field behind their building. We could go up there and have her watch us.”
“That’s a good idea. Alyssa always sees things I miss.” For once, saying her name didn’t sting. Dylan took note of that. Lucy was good for him in more ways than one.
After a quick shower, they hit Snaps. Tristan raised an eyebrow when Dylan ordered a fruit plate and a chicken breast. “Dude, that’s the saddest lunch I’ve ever seen.”
“Hey,” Kathy said. “It’s better than the crap they serve in your school cafeteria. There’s nothing wrong with healthy food.”
“Sorry, Kathy.” Tristan gave her a cocky salute. When she left, he shook his head. “Look, I know you don’t eat many sweets, but isn’t this taking things too far?” He held up a french fry. “You’re missing out.”
Dylan’s stomach rumbled. “I only have twenty-four hours until my tryout. I’m leaving nothing to chance.”
“Iron-clad discipline right there.” Tristan munched another fry. “Good for you.”
“Now you’re just trying to make me feel bad.” Dylan speared a piece of cantaloupe. He didn’t love melon, but that’s what was in season this time of year. He choked it down, shuddering. “Yum.”
“That’s the spirit.” Tristan laughed. “You’re going to be great tomorrow.”
“Will you hit for me?” Dylan asked. “Maybe the scout will look at both of us?”
“Sure. Happy to. But even if the scout is interested, I want to give OSU a try.” Tristan gave him a searching look. “If you change your mind, I bet a bunch of schools would come after you, too.”
Dylan shrugged, pretending to be interested in a sad blueberry that had rolled under some honeydew. “We’ll see.”
“I’m just saying…and that’s all I’ll say. Hey, you want to go to the lake this weekend? Alyssa has Sunday off for once.” Tristan gave him a sly smile. “Lucy’s invited if she wants to come.”
That got Dylan’s attention. After that awkward first meeting at the lake last week, it seemed so weird that he’d be inviting Lucy on a double date with his friends. “I’ll ask her.”
“Good. I like her for you, man. And I bet she’s a blast to have around.”
“You have no idea.”
“You’ll have to tell me sometime, then.” Tristan grabbed the check before Dylan could make a play for it, and put some cash down. “Let’s go practice.”
“You’re killing me, Smalls!” Alyssa called to Tristan. “Dylan’s owning you right now. Those splitters are insane.”
“Love you, too, gorgeous.” Tristan rolled his eyes at Dylan. “Throw me a fastball so I can reclaim my manhood.”
Dylan rolled his shoulders. The splitter had definitely come along, and Tristan couldn’t hit it. Not at all. A showcase pitch, ready right when he needed it. But Tristan needed some fun, so Dylan wound up and threw a slower-than-usual fat fastball straight down the middle. Tristan smacked it with a satisfying Ting! and the ball soared over Dylan’s head into the vacant field behind him.
“That felt good,” Tristan said.
Alyssa stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around him from behind. “Better. And Dylan? You’re looking hot. That scout will be drooling, my friend.”
Dylan couldn’t keep the proud grin off his face. Alyssa knew pitches—probably better than anyone in Suttonville. She’d pitched softball for several years, but working in a batting cage facility gave you the kind of repetitive training most people never had. If she said he looked good…he looked good.
They let themselves back into the main building and walked to the front. From the way Tristan and Alyssa kept swaying toward each other, even doing something as simple as walking, Dylan knew he needed to go. “I’m going home to rest. Um, Lucy and I are going out for a little bit tonight, and I should clean up.”
Alyssa smacked Tristan on the chest. “You didn’t tell me they were a thing for real.”
“I wasn’t 100 percent sure myself.” Tristan jerked his chin at Dylan. “Not until I caught them twining their fingers together through the fence at practice yesterday.”
Dylan tugged at his collar, feeling a flush race down his back. “Yeah, well.”
“Otis didn’t look too happy,” Tristan added. “But today he seemed fine.”
“Yeah.” Dylan paused. “I was a little surprised, but it was out of his system. Maybe Lucy talked to him.”
“Good.” Tristan slid an arm around Alyssa’s waist. “I feel like a walk by the creek.”
It wasn’t so much what he said, but how he said it that seemed to cause a reaction in Alyssa. Yeah, Dylan was definitely leaving. “Have fun. And thanks for practicing with me.”
“Good luck tomorrow.” Alyssa gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. “You’ll do great.”
Smiling, and flushing even hotter now, Dylan waved and left for home.
At eight on the dot, Dylan settled onto the picnic table under the awning, watching for Lucy. He wasn’t totally surprised that she wasn’t here yet. Funny how quickly you can get used to a person’s quirks. For him, early was on time, on time was late, and late was screwed. Lucy operated in her own concept of space-time.
Dylan laughed. Maybe Lucy really was an agreeable alien here to meet a human. It might explain some things. And who wouldn’t want to hook up with a hot alien girl?
The lake was busy with boats of all kinds tonight. They dotted the gray-green surface, some shadowed with the coming sunset, others dashing across streaks of fading sunlight. Dylan had always loved the lake. It gave him a sense of peace. It never changed. It was always there. But something inside him chafed, wanting to be free. It wasn’t like him to be restless. He’d like to blame it on the tryout, and the beginning of The Plan. He couldn’t, though.
He was restless, waiting to see Lucy.
Then there she was, walking fast down the path to the picnic area, a box in her hands. She smiled at him, and it lit fuses up and down his spine. Dylan slid off the table, hands aching to reach for her.
She strode over, put the box on the table, then wound her arms around his neck. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
They stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes, until Dylan couldn’t take another second. He stepped closer and put his hands on her hips. He let one last second pass, then covered her mouth with his. Her leg brushed his, and he shivered. This was every bit as good as the beach Sunday. Better, even. He could kiss her for hours and still beg for more.
But she had plans and pulled back sooner than he would’ve liked. “Good to see you, too.”
“Uh, yeah.” Dylan blinked, trying to shake himself back to reality. “So, what do you have planned?”
“Anxious, are we?” She flashed him a coy smile. “It’s nothing scary, if that’s worrying you.”
“So no streaking across the dock naked?”
“Man, I wished I’d thought of that.” Lucy gave him an appreciative look up and down. “But, alas, no.”
He flushed. Her eyes were sharp, and her gaze had made him feel naked. Not that he minded all that much. “That’s disappointing.”
She laughed and sat, hauling a canvas tote onto the table in front of her. Her face disappeared into it a minute before she reappeared holding a deck of cards. “This isn’t the main reason we’re here, but we need to kill a few hours, so I thought we could play cards.”
A few hours? He should be getting a good night’s sleep before the tryout tomorrow. What was happening at ten that they couldn’t do at nine? Any other time, he’d let his imagination run wild, but tomorrow was too important. Still, he really wanted to know what she was up to.
She looked up at him, through her eyelashes. “Trust me.”
That was enough. He took a seat across from her at the table. “What are we playing?”
“Gin. Whoever has the most points after ten hands has to do whatever the other person asks.” She winked. “Just not that.”
Dylan’s ears burned. How’d she know “that” was exactly where his mind went? It was an idle thought—he was a seventeen-year-old guy, it was reflex—not anything serious, though. “Fair enough.”
The breeze blew through the pavilion, drying the sweat on the back of his neck, and crickets started up in the trees. Lucy shuffled with the practice of a blackjack dealer and dealt the cards. Dylan sorted his, smiling. He already had three-of-a-kind, and a three card run. They were playing ten card hands, so he was off to a good start. What would he ask for when he won? For her to sit in his lap and kiss him senseless? That was a pretty good request. Or maybe to slow dance to the crickets? She might like that.
Lucy drew, watching him. He picked up her discard and tossed a card. She drew again, and he did as well. Come on Jack of hearts.
An eight. Dylan huffed and tossed it.
Lucy drew, then laid down her hand. “Gin.”
Dylan’s jaw dropped. “We drew three cards!”
She shrugged. “I’m good at this game. Maybe I should’ve mentioned that.”
“Uh huh. Maybe I should shuffle this time, just to be sure.” He took her cards, making sure to mix the deck up well. It didn’t do him any good, though. She won in four draws.
After ten hands, Lucy won…by three hundred points.
“You set me up,” Dylan said, not feeling too bad about it.
“Pretty much.” Her smile promised all kinds of mischief, and he decided losing might not be so bad. “Come with me.”
Swallowing down a hefty dose of nerves, he followed her down the path through the trees. He hadn’t walked this trail before and had no idea where it led once they made it past the place where they danced in the rain. The trees were thick, and soon the pavilion disappeared from view. In here, it felt like the park was theirs alone.
After some twists and turns, and a quick duck under some brush, they came out at a little beach. Dylan looked around, frowning. He’d boated on this lake his entire life. How could he not know this was here? The cove was small, though. Too small for anything but a Sea-Doo, but close enough to the dock that people probably just overlooked it. He sure had.
“How’d you know this was here?” he asked, staring across the water, stained pink and orange by the sunset. The sun itself was a sliver of a disc barely above the waterline. It was probably almost nine, and it would be twilight any minute. “And do you know how to get back in the dark?”
“Yes, I know how to get back.” Lucy shucked off her sandals. “I found it a few years ago with my dad. I come out here a lot when I need time to myself. No one is ever here…and that makes it perfect.”
The wicked, pleased note in her voice made him stand up straighter. “For…what?”
She held up a finger, watching the sun dip lower, and lower, until it was gone, and a blue-purple light fell across the lake. Then she raised an eyebrow and pulled off her shirt. She had a bikini top underneath it.
“I, um, I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” Dylan said, watching her wriggle out of her shorts. “I didn’t know we were going into the lake.”
Lucy didn’t answer him, except to say, “Remember, I won the game.”
Shock—the good kind—coursed through his veins. Just what did she have planned?
Once she had waded out into shoulder-deep water, she untied her bikini top and flung it up on the beach. Dylan stared at it dumbly, and her bikini bottoms joined the top. His brain went on full meltdown as he realized what she wanted him to do.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Oh, holy, holy, holy shit.”
“The water is nice and warm,” Lucy called, smiling sweetly, as if she wasn’t skinny-dipping in a very public lake, and expecting him to join her. “You coming in?”
That was the question, wasn’t it?