One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 16

"And seltzers." Nate grabs another hot dog from the grill. The mustard oozes over the sides of his bun.

"Definitely never tired of seltzers," I say, raising my koozi to cheers him.

"How come no one gets on me to stay? You guys realize I don't live here anymore either, right?" Brooks asks, waving his hot dog in front of him.

"Guess we just don't like you as much," Meg says.

"Ya we love you too, Brooks... Just not as much!" Trix laughs.

"Can't blame us," Travis shrugs.

"Too much brooding. Can't be around that all summer." Nate nods.

"Fuck off." Brooks throws his empty plate at Nate. I notice the smile playing on the corners of his lips. The muscle in his jaw always twitches whenever he tries to resist smiling.

It's golden hour, baby. Golden. Hour. The sun is starting to set and the waves are glimmering with light. It's high tide now; the boat bobs almost 30 feet offshore. The air smells like salt. Travis and Trix are battling Meg and Nate at horseshoes. Brooks and I are sitting on the afghan next to the grill. The water is close to our toes now.

Alex has the guitar out again. I can hear Violent Femmes' Blister in the Sun from across the sand.

Brooks's arm is around my shoulder and he's leaning into my neck. "Hey."

"Hey back," I say.

"You know what we should do?" Brooks slides his free hand up my thigh.

"Brooks!" I laugh, swatting his hand away.

"Come on. What's wrong?" He asks. His lips brush against my ears. God, it feels good.

"You can't be serious? There are people here!" I point out.

"There were people last night, too. Didn't stop us," Brooks says, shrugging. His hand is back on my leg, inching up.

I glance sideways at the makeshift game zone. I can't even see the horseshoes. Between the grill and the umbrella and stacked coolers, no one can even see us let alone hear us.

"We can't." I moan as Brooks kisses my neck again.

"Let's go for a swim," he says. His arm is around my back now, on my waist. His eyes are so alive, so reflecting the golden hour light right now.

"What?" I blink too fast.

"A swim. To the boat. Let's go," Brooks says, standing. He holds a hand out to me. I look at him like he's crazy, because well.

"You just ate like three hotdogs," I say. "Isn't there a statute of limitations or something?

"On eating hotdogs?" He laughs. "Come on."

"Fine," I say, standing up. I brush the sand off my calves, but not sure why I'm bothering. I'll have to swim all the way out to the boat.

We fight the waves and before I know it I am waist-deep in the water. I flip my hair into a bun so it won't get even saltier. Brooks pulls me to him and lifts me up under the water. I wrap my legs around his waist and I'm reminded of playing Chicken –of hanging on his muscly arms –of being hopelessly pathetic.

"Feeling queasy yet?" I smirk.

"Little lightheaded. If I drown, will you save me?" Brooks asks, kissing my nose.