“I want to know why yousaidthat.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “You are a fucking enigma yourself, Robert Delaney. Why do you think I should talk about my feelings when you won’t dothesame?”
“I told you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I may not be good at talking about my feelings, but I’ll show you howIfeel.”
“Yeah?” Quicker than he could react, I ran across the dock and scooped up his swim trunks. I balled up the wet material and threw it as far as I could across the shimmering surface of the water. His trunks unspooled in the air, landed in a breaking wave and began to drift away across the surface of thewater.
I turned to him and said, “That’s how Ifeel,Rob.”
His face was furious. “I should spank your perfectlittleass.”
“You could try,” I said. “But you’re going to have to choose between that and going after your trunks. And I don’t think you want to have to walk past your grandmothernaked.”
He turned from me to the water, and I had a funny feeling I knew which he was going to choose. While he was distracted, I raced for the house. He took a few steps after me and then stopped, turning back tothesea.
By the time I reached the house and let myself in through the deck doors, I wanted to cry. I was both a shameless hussy and ahopelessbrat.
But I wasn’t going to bring him atowel.
He kind ofdeservedit.
