Promises Hurt

We drive a little way out of Santa Maria before I ask where he’s taking me exactly. Oso Flaco Lake is his reply. I’ve lived my whole life in Santa Maria and have never been.

 

We drive for about a half an hour, listening to music in a comfortable silence before we finally park and Ethan gets the bikes as I grab our bags from the backseat.

 

I heft his backpack up over my shoulder and it feels like he’s smuggling rocks in there.

 

“Jeez, what did you pack in your bag?” I shout out. “It weighs more than me!”

 

He appears at my side with a dazzling smile plastered across his face. “You’ll see.”

 

We take the bikes and cycle for about twenty minutes down little trails that are flanked by pretty blue and yellow wildflowers. The heat’s just starting to get to me when Ethan stops.

 

“This will do,” he says and points to a shaded area of grass just off the trail. I dismount the bike as ladylike as I can manage, but the last time I cycled I was about ten years old and my ass is already starting to ache from the seat. We lean the bikes up against a huge tree and I lift my eyebrow at him.

 

“What now?” I ask, smoothing my hair away from my face.

 

“Now we eat,” he says, pulling a blanket from the top of his backpack and laying it out across the grass. He tosses two bottles of water in my direction and then comes to sit next to me, handing me a brown paper bag with a sandwich, apple and chips inside.

 

“I can’t cook for shit but I make a mean packed lunch.” He grins at me and I want to toss the lunch aside and just feast on him. He’s so freaking adorable.

 

“You made me lunch? You’re full of surprises,” I tell him and pull out my sandwich. “Peanut butter and jelly? What are we, five?” I say, laughing.

 

“Only the best for my woman.” He grins and I melt a little more. His woman.

 

We finish eating and make our way on foot through a few trees, coming out onto a sand bank. There’s a huge wooden dock stretching out across the water and it’s breathtaking.

 

“Ready to cross another item off your list?” he asks, and I’m suddenly nervous as hell. It obviously shows on my face because Ethan looks down at me and takes my hand.

 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just swim in our suits and have fun.” His voice is tender and calming and it’s all the encouragement I need.

 

My fingers grip the hem of my tank and I pull it over my head, dropping it at my feet. Ethan's eyes widen for a second before he mirrors my action and removes his own shirt.

 

I watch in a trance as his muscles flex with his movements and I run my eyes greedily over the dips in his abs. He straightens and waits, taking his cues from me.

 

I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and shimmy them down my legs, never once taking my eyes from his. He smiles and then like before, he mirrors my actions and does the same. I’m standing in my black bikini staring at the sight of Ethan in just a pair of black boxer briefs.

 

“Where are your swim shorts?” I ask him and he lets out a gruff laugh.

 

“I didn’t pack them, Blair; didn’t think I’d need them.” He’s eyeing me carefully and I can feel the blush spreading across my face and neck like wildfire.

 

“Oh,” Is all I can manage.

 

He moves forward and takes my hand, leading me out onto the dock. We’re completely alone and the sun is bouncing off the surface of the water, making it shimmer and look like a sea of diamonds laid out before us.

 

“To hell with it,” I say and Ethan looks at me, confused. “Go big or go home, right?” I flash him a smile as I pull the tie at the back of my neck and let the two triangles covering my chest fall to the floor.

 

His eyes widen and he stands staring at me like I’ve just grown another head. I instantly feel self-conscious and cover myself with my arms.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” he smiles, lunging forward and picking me up, tossing me over his shoulder as he runs to the end of the dock. I’m screaming and giggling as he leaps off and plunges us both into the frigid-cold water.

 

We break the surface and I feel as though I’ve been stabbed with a thousand tiny knives as the water bites at my skin.

 

“Fuck, that’s cold!” he gasps as I’m trying to catch my breath.

 

“No shit!” I deadpan treading water.

 

“You said go big or go home,” he laughs then reaches down into the water. His hand emerges a second later with his boxers firm in its grip. He tosses them onto the dock and then turns back to me with a questioning smirk.

 

I figure he can’t see my body under the water too well so I do the same and his grin is instant.