Hey, guys. I didn't think I would have an upload this week, but I felt like writing. So here you go. The answer to the bonus question (from the last chapter) will be revealed in the upcoming chapters (maybe even this one) and the answer to the super bonus question is Barcelona. Congrats if you got that. I hope you like this chapter.

Last chapter recap:

And if I'd taken the time to look around me, instead of being completely distracted by the smoothness of Eliza's legs, I would have seen the person standing in the driveway. I would have seen the person standing there, in the darkness, watching us.


We stayed in the pool for a long time, and I have to say, if Michael Phelps were the king of splash fights, (because let’s face it - with arms that long he could generate a wave in the Atlantic Ocean that could kill someone in Hawaii) then Eliza would be his queen. We had five splash fights. I won one, and I’m pretty sure that’s only because Eliza let me win on purpose. It was like she thought it would permanently damage my self-esteem if I didn’t win at least once. It wouldn’t have, but Eliza taking that into account made me respect her that much more.

I lay back on the pool deck until I could feel the hard, concrete foundation jabbing me in the spine. We’d finished showing off and attacking each other with water, but neither of us was quite ready to call it a night. After Eliza went to get some beach towels, I propped myself up with my elbows. I was comfortable enough to stay like that for a while, but not comfortable enough to fall asleep. She put her towel right next to mine and crossed her legs, facing me. Her hibiscus flowered towel was wrapped around her torso and she hugged her knees to her chest.

Eliza was telling me why I should listen to the band One Direction. "No, Nick," she argued, "They're seriously good."

"I doubt that."

"They are. They're like the next Beatles. And their song that's always on the radio isn't even their best one."

"What Makes You Beautiful?" That song had been dominating the radio for the last two months. I'd heard it when I was in Eliza's room. It was alright, as far as boy band songs go. In fact, the lyrics were surprisingly accurate, and I could name a dozen girls at my school who that song could definitely be describing, including the girl sitting right in front of me.

"See? You've listened to them, Nick Maguire. Don't deny it," Eliza gave me a teasing smile.

"Last time I checked, Eliza, I don't live under a rock." I sat up until I was leaning back on only one of my forearms. My muscles flexed as I shifted my position and I could feel Eliza's eyes taking in my soccer-player stomach. I winked at her and reached to pull my t-shirt over my head. As much as I enjoyed the adrenaline rush that came when she looked at me like I was an Abercrombie model, it was getting kind of cold.

She laughed and rolled her eyes at my performance. "That's good. Because if you did live under a rock, that would make you Patrick Star, and I'm sorry, Nick, but I just don't think I could date someone who thinks mayonnaise is an instrument."

I was pretty sure that just then, I knew what it was like to have an arrhythmia, because when Eliza said the d-word, I was confident my heart literally skipped a beat. "Wait," I grinned back at her. It was the kind of grin little kids have when they get the king-sized candy bars on Halloween, "It's not? Is horseradish an instrument?"

She bit her lip, still smiling, and phlegmatically shook her head at me. Her sparkling eyes held all of her laughter inside her body, like she knew that if she started to let it out, she'd never be able to stop. Then she opened her mouth, as if something had just occurred to her, "Hang on... you didn't correct me."

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