xx. breakthrough

Reese and I give up on getting tubes after waiting for the crowd to lessen as more people excitedly dive into the clear, blue ocean. Specifically, I lose patience after five minutes, take off my cover, and throw myself over the railing.

He shouts something at me that I don’t hear over the splash of water. I push myself backward, farther from the gigantic boat before turning to the setting sun and take a deep breath. My body relaxes as I lean back until I’m floating—letting the tide rock me gently. I stare at the gradient of pinks, purples, oranges, and blues that feather across the sky.

*Life is so beautiful.*

A chaotic splash sends water all over me and my peace, leaving me unbalanced. I sputter at the saltiness in my mouth and run my hand down my face, righting myself before I drown.

Reese’s head pops above water, flashing his head of matted curls—his blonde hair a darker hue from being drenched. He runs his hand through it, slicking it back but a lock falls on to his forehead. My brain and body confirm it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“No patience, another thing I know about you now.”

I want to ask him what the other things are but being a coward and scared of that answer, I go with, “You could’ve waited for a tube.” We’re circling each other now with about two feet between us. I make sure to keep that distance since I don’t need a repeat of the last time when I’d gotten too close to him.

His pink lips glisten with the sea and I find keeping my eyes on his difficult. Especially-

*Dear Starbucks and skirts, did he take his shirt off…*

My eyes move to the railing where I’d left my cover-up and see his shirt right next to it. It’s not like the bare shoulders aren’t enough to go off of but I need to make sure I’m not losing my mind.

“Don’t need one.” I don’t know if it’s the water, but his voice is deeper. “Tell me something,” he starts, pushing himself even more above water then sinking. “Does Gina like Lorenxo?”

The bark of laughter that leaves me is involuntarily but I can’t take it back. “Did he tell you to ask me that?” *Is that why he’s talking to me?* A queasy feeling builds in my abdomen.

He shakes his head with a small grin. “Just curious. I won’t tell him, promise.” I decide to be dramatic by eyeing him. He holds his hands up and adds, “See, I’d do a blood oath but,” his eyes drop to the water.

“Ha,” I reply dryly. I think about it for another moment before responding. “I’m not sure. I feel like she could, or she *might*, but something’s holding her back. We haven't spoken about it a lot. But if she really despised him, we’d hear about it by now.” I have my suspicions but I’m not divulging them to him of all people.

Reese nods, his head turning to the sunset and giving me a perfect view of his side profile. The golden hour sunshine does amazing things to his skin.

“He really likes her and that hasn’t happened in a while.”

I think about that, tilting my head from side to side. “It’s weird because they spent one drunken night together and they didn’t even have sex.” The second that leaves my mouth, my face and neck go up in flames at the sound of my words. “Not that they had to to have a connection or anything! Just that people are incoherent drunks and sometimes don’t even remember stuff. Well, they remembered and they made out and stuff but-”

“Kira,” Reese cuts me off, his tone low and smooth.

I let out a breath. “Hm?” His expression is solemn when I look at him and something in my gut plummets and I stopped breathing. “What?”

“Something just moved by my leg.”

A cold sweat breaks across my skin and in a second I’m against him, one arm pressing between us and the other gripping his side. “You’re lying.” My eyes flit around us through the blue water. When I come up empty and don’t feel anything, I look up at him. At his smile.

I tread backward, pushing him away by his chest lightly and blushing. “That’s not funny!”

He sputters out a laugh and, “You were rambling again.”

“Right, so instead of telling me to shut up, you think giving me a heart attack is a better way?”

“Could never tell you to shut up.”

Not knowing what to say to that, I look away. After a second of silence, I mutter, “So heart attack it is then.”

“I think your nails bruised me by the way and I plan on pressing charges.”

Clamping my lips together doesn’t stop me from snorting.

The situation hit me then like it had since he walked up to me twenty minutes ago. He’s talking to me. Joking with me. Smiling at me. And it shouldn’t be as big of a deal as I’m making it out to be but I can’t help it. I practically hated him a week ago for being an ass, which he is in his own right is entitled to be, but now he’s just… not. It’s a bit jarring.

“I have a question.”

He nods and I watch him stretch his neck and tilt his head, his dark lashes almost brushing the fair skin below his eyes.

“Why do you hate me?”

There. It’s out there. The biggest question of my teenage years that I’ve been internally agonizing over forever. Even when it wasn’t at the center of my thoughts, it was buried deep in there. And now he knows.

His eyes open and he gives me a look that seems familiar but I’m not thinking enough to place it at the moment. “You really think so?”

“Well,” I start then pause, thinking about the last few times we’ve spoken and lock eyes, “not now. Not really. But *when you did*, why did you?” A big wave knocks me forward, pushing me toward him but I control myself enough to stop inches away from him.

I can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek as he studies me. Then he says, “I never hated you.”

My stare tells him exactly what I’m about to say next. “Oh, get off it, you couldn’t stand me, Reese. I’m not entirely confident that you do right now either.” I keep my tone light to make this less awkward.

His head falls back against his shoulders as he groans—a low and throaty sound that makes me dizzy. My eyes latch on to the skin of his neck again, following the freckles dusting his skin until his body disappears beneath the water.

“I just want to know so that the next time you decide to be… not in the best mood when I’m around I’ll be aware, I guess.”

He rights his head and stares at me with eyes browner now, the blue-green hue pushed back to the edges of his irises.

*I could just stare into your eyes all day.*

His gaze drops and stays there. On my mouth. I feel my teeth pressing into my lip and stop. Stop everything. Breathing, living, seeing anything other than him.

“So?” I manage to say, but it’s more like an airy sound.

His head angles back a fraction, an angle that makes him even more attractive. “I was nine and I’m guessing you were nine,” he says and that pulls me out of my lust-induced trance.

My eyebrows raise. This could not have stemmed from all the way back there, I refuse to even-

“My dad and I were at the supermarket, having a great time, doing what sons and fathers do.” He shrugs and I try with everything in me to keep a straight face because as much as he’s being serious I can hear the humor under his tone. “And we heard this horrible sound. It was like,” his eyes go to the sky as he’s trying to remember, “the scream of a banshee, nails on a chalkboard. So my dad and I- we went to check it out. And in the poultry section was a mom, and her daughter that looked my age. The girl was on the floor, screaming and crying. *Everyone* was staring. The mother looked horrified. I just remember…” he pulls a face that doesn’t in the least makes him less handsome, “being *disgusted*.”

“Wait,” I say, holding my hands up and treading away from him, almost choking on my disbelief and laughter, “was- was that me? Are you talking about me? Cause I don’t remember any of this.”

His look is full of disappointment as he shakes his head. “You were a horrible child.”

I laugh so hard I almost sink like an anchor. When I get myself together, it’s almost a minute later and I’m still laughing when I respond.
“You held a grudge with nine-year-old me for your whole life?” I say even though I still don’t remember a snip of this. I don’t even have it in myself to be a little bit mad at the guy because- “Oh my- you are so petty!”

His mouth is set in a quirky smile. “The real reason is worse actually. Well not really. Depends on perspective.”

I eye him, not liking where this is going and trying to play through all the horrible things I’ve done in my life. “Do I need to be grounded for this?”

He thinks about it before nodding. “Possibly.”

Reese stands in front of me, shirtless with his hair messily attractive and a towel draping over his shoulders, not doing very well at hiding his exposed skin. Not only is he standing there, he’s standing there staring at me.

I’d been too busy wringing out my hair and running my own towel over it a few times but the second I glimpse him, our eyes lock and I’m embarrassed to say I’m a little queasy.

I want to ask him why he’s staring at me. If he was being a pervert and checking me out, I’d understand—I’d say something about it but I’d understand. But he’s staring at my face. It’s intense and it’s killing me.

“So,” I say, deciding not to acknowledge it because there’s a chance I’ll turn into a stuttering rambling mess again, “Tell me.” He watches me squeeze the towel around my hair.

“You’re pretty bossy aren’t you?”

I shrug with a smile because I’m not going to tell him this question has been something that’s kept me up at night. It’s sad and pathetic and no.
He looks away, finally, and scratches at his jaw.

I take advantage of the situation and place the towel on the railing to slip on my cover-up.

“Uhh,” he starts, sounding hesitant.

“Just do it.” He doesn’t smile at my playfulness and when he looks back at me, the laid-back Reese I’ve had the privilege of talking to for the past half an hour is gone.

“Did you have sex with my best friend?”

I freeze. His words resonate and send my entire system into shock. I stop thinking and my mind blanks all at once without my permission.
Then it starts reeling and I actually think about this. I don’t know who he’s talking about, but I go through the list of guys I’ve been with and come up short when I have no clue if they know him. There are some exes and a few one night stands that I can count on one hand, but…

“Who?” I say, leaning toward him and folding my arms across my middle, feeling the confusion on my face.

When he speaks, he does slowly. “*Lorenxo.*”