“Yeah, it’s—” But before I can get the words out, Aiden is sinking under me and I’m falling back into the water. I come up with a gasp. “Aiden Emerson!” I push the wet hair out of my face and look around for Aiden but he’s nowhere. I think about the dark water and the beers he drank, and something inside of me sinks. “Aiden?” I’m trying to keep the panic out of my voice, but Ellis must hear it, because he’s swimming toward me. We know better than to swim in the dark, especially out here, where we’re away from everything, totally at the mercy of the darkness. Ellis has closed the gap by half when I feel a flutter against my legs, and then Aiden rises out of the water behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me toward him. I give him a little jab with my elbow. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he says, just as his lips fall on the bare skin of my neck. “You looked hot, like you needed to cool off.”

Ellis mutters something and swims back toward Jaz and the sand bar.

I laugh and turn back toward Aiden. I loop my arms around his neck and he picks me up by my hips until I wrap my legs around his waist. Everyone else is still in the water, but in the dark, with Aiden’s arms around me and the water covering us, I can’t make myself care anymore. The strawberry wine is still warming my stomach, but being this close to Aiden is its own kind of intoxication. When I press my lips to his, I’m not thinking about anything but the way it feels to be wrapped around him like this.

Hours later, when our skin is wrinkled and the drinks have worn off, Aiden’s face is against mine on the soft blanket. The vinyl tent is sticky and noisy, and we only brought one blanket, so we’re lying on it. It’s July, and hot even at night, but I feel strange and exposed, curled up with nothing on top of me. I still have my damp bra and underwear on, because it’s too awkward figuring out how to take it off. “It’s really hot in here,” I huff.

Aiden makes a little snorting sound. “No comment.”

“You don’t think it’s a million degrees in here?”

“I think I’m not commenting, because the only suggestions to fix that problem will make me sound like a creeper.”

Oh. “Right.”

In the corner of the tent, where my clothes lay in a crumpled pile, my phone buzzes. What time is it? It has to be one, maybe two in the morning. Aiden reaches over and passes it to me. It buzzes twice more, as I slide the screen open. Three new texts.

From Zander.