Come over. 

That’s all the message says, and it comes it at ten o’clock, when I’m frankly already in my pajamas and nestled in with a sitcom on Netflix. But Dash’s name on the phone has me scrambling for a pair of jeans and a top as soon as I read the words.

I don’t bother replying. I grab my phone, shove it into my purse, and head for my car. I make it to his place in less than ten minutes.

I knock softly at the door and pull my phone out in case he doesn’t hear. The evening coolness paws my neck under my hair while I wait. The door opens a few moments later revealing Dash, who is still looking at his own screen.

“You look confused,” I say softly. His daughter has to be asleep. I’m not going to be the one who wakes her up. Even from outside, I can tell that a nighttime stillness has settled over his house. If we fuck, it’ll have to be quiet. I could get on board with that mood.

“You didn’t write back.”

“I live in Lakewood. It was quicker to drive over.”

He cracks a smile, but there’s a tension around his eyes that sends a bolt of nervousness straight through my chest. “Want to come in?”

I give him a slow nod.

Dash steps out of the way.

Once I’m all the way in the house he closes the door tightly behind us and flips the lock. He takes one deep breath, then steps in close, sliding his hand around the back of my head like we’ve been doing this forever. Have we not been doing this forever? I wouldn’t mind if we had.

He kisses me so long it takes my breath away. Finally I have to surface, gasping for a breath. “Whoa,” I say, pushing him back an inch to get first dibs on the oxygen in the room. “What’s going on?”

Dash looks down at me. “Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What? I’m getting whiplash. Swimming?”

“Swimming,” he repeats. “I want to be in the water. With you.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

The grin that spreads across his face is slow and sultry. “You don’t need a bathing suit.”

A thrill runs over my shoulders and down to my fingertips. “You have a dirty mind.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

He grabs a baby monitor and his phone, then disappears into the bathroom, returning with two beach towels. One of them has Mickey Mouse on it in repeating patterns. “Hot,” I tell him.

“Damn right,” he says, and ushers me out into the night.

For once in my life, I don’t feel completely creeped out. But I do put my hand into Dash’s. Can you blame me? No, you can’t.

He leads me to the beach. “Are you sure about this?” The cottages on either side of the property seem awfully close. Couldn’t we get arrested? I like being naked with Dash more than most things in the world, but this might be more of a risk than I’m willing to take.

Dash ends that argument with a kiss. And not just any kiss. A hard kiss. A long kiss. His hands slide down over my waist, over my hips, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down to my thighs. When he reaches between my legs, I push away with a gasp.

“I’m sure,” Dash says with a low laugh that skips over the surface of the water. Then he whips his own shirt off, drops his shorts and boxers, and strides into the water.

“Challenge accepted,” I call after him. It takes me a minute longer because I have to fumble my jeans off, plus my bra, and he’s already waist deep by the time I stick my toes in, the night air caressing my nipples. Jesus, it feels good. It also feels terrifying. Any number of people could see my naked ass right now.

“Come on,” he says. “The water’s fine.”

“Fine?” My toes are cold as hell. “Why did you think this would be a good idea? This is freezing.”

“It’s warm once you’re in,” he says, dragging his hands over the surface. “Get in, Ellie. Then it won’t be so obvious.”

I cross my arms over my nipples. “I don’t care if it’s obvious to you,” I say, forcing myself to take another step in. The water rises halfway up my shins. 

“Come to me,” he coaxes like I’m a nervous dog.

“I’m not a dog,” I tell him, and he laughs out loud.

“Trust me, I know.”

I keep my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

“You look gorgeous,” he says.

“I look cold.”

“You look fucking amazing.”

“Like, amazing enough that we could go back inside, get under the blankets, and—”

“Fuck?” Dash laughs again, so pleased with himself.

The water is up to my knees. I am a human goosebump. “This is torture.”

“This is true love,” he says, and an electric joy explodes out from my heart like the world’s brightest firework.

“What?” I sputter. We just had a conversation touching on this, and now he’s throwing around the L word? “Are you seriously—”  I start moving faster out of pure shock, the water dragging me back. “Did you say that you love—” My foot catches on something on the lake bed, and I swear, it’s moving. A scream tears from my throat and I try to hop away but I’m pushing off against a mucky patch of sand. My ankle goes sideways. My legs go sideways. I go sideways with a strangled cry, my noooooo echoing across the dark water.

It’s not deep but I have to fight my way to the surface, a lungful of water burning in my throat. “Shit!” I yell, swiping at my eyes to clear the lake water. Dash’s laugh is loud and free.

“You fell in the water there, Ellie,” he says, doubling over. 

“This is your fault.” Oh God it’s cold cold cold. It’s not better now that I’ve been unceremoniously dunked in the lake.

“Should have watched your step.”

I do the only proper thing in this situation. I summon the rest of my energy and run at him, tackling him for all I’m worth. He lets me win, falling underneath me into the lake with a splash. The second time, it’s a little warmer. But not much.

When we resurface, he sweeps me up into his arms and heads for the shore, still laughing. “You had a point.”

“What point?”

“About a bed. And blankets. Oh, hey,” he says, his arms stiffening. “Your phone is ringing.” I’d put it into my pocket on the way out to the backyard and dropped it on top of the towels. He’s right—the screen is illuminated. 

He takes his final steps out of the water and I grab for the phone, picking up a towel along with it.

The name on the caller ID makes my heart sink.

Aunt Lisa would never call this late.

Unless...