Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Easy. I’ll take two, you take two. I call Howard and the kid with braces.”
“Why don’t you want David?”
“Too serious and eager for me. Perfect for you,” I replied, leaning close.
He smelled good, like peppermint and evergreen and—
Geez, was he wearing cologne? Better question…why had I noticed? Maybe I was allergic to peppermint and associated it with terrible things like…uh…the holidays.
Okay, totally false. I loved the holidays, and peppermint was awesome. It was just weird that Jake would smell good and look…
Ugh, it pained me to admit it, but Jake was kind of sort of handsome…today. His summer tan made his blue eyes pop and wove golden strands into his dark-blond hair. I’d only noticed because I was in dire need of vitamin D. And this entire mental sidebar probably meant I was in desperate need of a vacation too.
“Fine. I’ll take David and Milo. Let’s win this.”
I furrowed my brow. “Win what?”
Jake spared me a glance, his lips quirked in vague amusement. “The whole weekend. I know it’s lighthearted fun, but it’s also basic swim and running relays too. Can you swim?”
“Of course I can fucking swim,” I scoffed.
“Cool. If you’re faster on the ground than you are on ice, we should do all right.”
“Are you insinuating that I’m a slow skater? That is fucking priceless.” I snorted.
Jake just smiled and clapped along to whatever Vinnie was yapping about. “If you say so. By the way, you might want to curb your F bombs. This is a G-rated family weekend. Show some class, Trinsky.”
“Fuck yourself, Milligan.”
“Nice one, asshat. You—”
Ray or Jay bumped my elbow as he sidled close, camera in hand. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. This is perfect.”
I gritted my teeth and probably would have said something rude, but I was interrupted by a cheer from the crowd.
“Are you ready to party?” Vinnie hooted, fists pumping the air. “Let’s do this!”
6
TRINSKY
In spite of my dickwad partner and the fact that our team was slow as fuck, it was a good time.
We started out with a few swimming competitions—relay, freestyle, backstroke, that kind of thing. Buoys set the barrier between recreational swim and the deeper portion of the lake more ideal for boats and Jet Skis. A raised wooden platform with a slide anchored the middle area and made for a perfect focal spot to goof around while waiting for your turn.
Team Trinsky-Millidick came in third for relay, second on freestyle, and dead last on the backstroke. Howard was fit and enthusiastic, but keeping up with pro athletes and competitive teenagers wasn’t for the faint of heart. He got winded easily and stopped to take frequent breaks. I could tell he was relieved to move on.
Two boats showed up at lunchtime to whisk us off to the ridge in Pinecrest, where we ate a killer lunch catered by C’est Bon. We played a game of horseshoes and chilled for an hour before heading out on the water to go tubing.
Let me just say that if you’ve never gone tubing, you’re missing out. Hanging on to an inflatable tire tethered to the rear of a boat whipping across the lake at high speed was a seriously good time. We did this with the regular campers at Juniors’ Camp and it was always a big hit with teens. The adults enjoyed it too.
Howard was the only one who opted out. I didn’t think much of it. High-speed water shenanigans weren’t for everyone. His family seemed concerned, but he brushed them off and said he was happy to watch from the ridge. I took turns operating the boat with Denny and hadn’t noticed that Milo, the kid with the braces had retired from the action until Jake pointed it out.
“You’re down two campers, Trinsky,” he announced, trudging to the front of the boat.
I left the wheel to Denny and stood, swaying on my feet as we crested a wave created by the other boat. In the few seconds it took to regain balance, my brain catalogued a barrage of odd thoughts, like Jake’s hair was longer now and it curled at his nape. His body was toned and sleek, and the water sluicing over his pecs was sort of…mesmerizing. I caught myself staring at his abs and—
“What do you mean?”
Jake pushed his wet hair from his face, the sharp line of his chiseled cheekbones exaggerated by the sun. My high school buddy, Chad Billings, had done some modeling for a local surf shop years ago. I used to give him a hard time, though truthfully, I’d been a little jealous that he’d gotten paid to smile in his swim trunks. Chad had been your average California bleach-blond surfer with blue eyes, golden skin and perfect white teeth…and Jake looked nothing like him.
But Jake sort of reminded me of a model just then. And yeah, that thought crossing my mind for even a smidge of a moment bugged the hell out of me.