Down By The Water Read Online Free

pair of black yoga pants and I debated for half a second before slipping out of my wet panties, too. I wasn't thrilled with having a total stranger wash my underwear but it was so wet, I didn't have much of a choice. The fabric was soft and smooth as I slid the pants on. They weren't long enough and I imagined Ty's sister must have been short. I fought with my t-shirt, wriggling my way out of it and my bra. I let those fall to the floor, too and tugged on the pale pink t-shirt I was given. The shirt was thin and my nipples were clearly visible. I sighed. Not much I could do about that. I raked my hand through my hair, bringing strands forward to try to cover my breasts as best I could.
    I used the bathroom and scrubbed my face clean of eyeliner. Satisfied that I didn't look as deranged as I had five minutes ago, I opened the door and stepped back into the hallway.
    Ty was still there, tapping at his phone. He'd stripped off his white tank top and I felt my eyes drift from his face to his chest and stomach. Smooth, tanned skin, his abdominal muscles taut, defined. I almost sighed. He was definitely delectable. And absolutely off limits—for a multitude of reasons.
    He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “You good?”
    No, I wasn't good. There were a million thoughts swirling through my mind and my nerves were shot. But I tried to focus on the positives. I wasn't stuck in my broken-down car. I'd been given dry clothes and had a free dinner waiting for me. And the guy who was responsible for it all was genuinely a nice guy. A hot, nice guy.
    “As good as I can be,” I said.
    He looked me up and down and I thought his eyes lingered for a second on my shirt. I resisted the urge to glance down and see exactly how much was on display through the thin fabric of the t-shirt I'd been given. “I knew Mary's clothes wouldn't be a perfect fit.” His voice was dismissive and I decided I must have imagined that he'd zeroed in on my tits. “But it works.”
    He reached for a t-shirt draped over the staircase railing and slipped it over his head. He'd already changed his shorts—new cargoes, dark blue. He ran his hand through his almost-dry hair and smiled at me and I wanted to kick myself for the flurry of butterflies that stirred in my stomach. “Ready for dinner?”
    I nodded. “Sure.”
    I followed him down the hallway, looking around as we walked. I remembered seeing the house ten years ago, but I'd never gone in. Even then, I'd wondered what it looked like inside. At first, I'd thought it was available for rent, too. I remembered asking my parents why we couldn't just stay in the house instead of pitching the two tents we'd shoved into the back of my mom's Dodge Caravan. They'd explained that the resort owners lived there, that they took care of the property year-round. I'd been impressed, a little envious, even, that some lucky family got to live somewhere with their own personal pool—not some tiny, backyard pool, but a big one, big enough to swim laps and jump off the diving board. I'd wondered if they had kids, and what it would be like to a have a revolving door of new friends to meet, to play with. Our own house was situated on the outskirts of our tiny town and the only time we saw friends was when we were in school.
    “How long have you lived here?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
    We were just outside the dining room. Ty looked at me curiously. “Forever. Why?”
    He'd been here ten years ago. So he would know.
    “No reason,” I said.
    My pulse quickened but I breathed through it. He wouldn't remember me. We hadn't interacted with the host family until after. The memories of the aftermath were hazy, shrouded by a fog of sorrow and guilt and anger. I knew we'd talked to them but meeting Ty's mother had triggered nothing. I couldn't put it all together, but I could feel it inside me, tugging at me, threatening to drag me under.
    Ty pulled out a chair for me at the large oak dining table and I sat down.