Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I was determined to make him smile, though, to bring back my Sutton and wipe away whatever it was that made him down.
“I’m tired.” I jumped on his back, and he immediately caught me. I knew without seeing his face that he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t drop me, and he even chuckled when I gave an exaggerated yawn. We were almost at the swimming hole, so I let him carry me the rest of the way. He dropped me with his own heave when we arrived.
We didn’t bring towels or anything with us to the water, so all we had to do was take off our shoes and shirts. We were right at the water. To the left was a hill, and at the top, a tree that looked like it had been there since the beginning of time, with a rope swing hanging from it.
Sutton went to step into the water, but I grabbed his bicep. It was firm and warm and…fuck, I didn’t know. I let go. “Nope. I don’t think so. We’re gonna jump right in from up there. No getting used to the water first.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?”
“You, Sutton, my whole damn life.” I grinned.
“Shut up and go.” He pushed me and I went, Sutton following behind me as we headed up the hill.
When we got to the top, neither of us went to jump right away. We just took in the scenery—all the green that met the bright blue of the sky, the way the ground continued to get higher from where we were, wrapping almost all the way around the swimming hole, as if hiding it inside walls of earth.
“I really do,” Sutton said.
“Really do what?”
“Like where I am just fine.”
I nodded. “Good, because you’re not allowed to go nowhere. Well, except in that water right there. You wanna go first?”
“Hell yeah I do.”
“There we go. That’s my boy.” I gripped his shoulders and gave him a little shake, watched as Sutton’s expression changed to almost pinched. But just as soon as it had come, it was gone, and he grabbed the rope, took about fifteen steps back, held on, ran, and jumped.
“Woohoo!” I shouted, watching him fall into the water. He was under for just a second before he broke through again, hair plastered to his head, drops of water clinging to his stubble, and the happiest smile on his lips. That right there was how Sutton Manning was always supposed to look.
I caught the rope, ran back, then forward again, swinging through the air. My stomach dropped, that quick panic of being in the air, then the freedom of flying before I let go and landed with a large splash beside him. Water rushed over my head as I sank, and then I surged to the surface again, shaking water from my head and laughing.
“Fuck, that was fun,” Sutton said, bobbing in front of me.
“You have shit in your hair.” I picked the weeds or whatever it was off his head. “Let’s go again.”
We kept on, over and over, using that damn rope swing like we were twelve years old again, kids without a care in the world other than having fun. That was my favorite thing about being with Sutt—how easy it was to let go with him, how I could be grumpy or immature or whatever because I knew he’d always have my back the way I would always have his.
Eventually we got tired of jumping and just swam, floated, played around in the water, and dunked each other. I thought maybe it was the most perfect day I’d ever lived.
We were out there for a good two hours before Sutt said, “We should probably head back to the campsite so we can get dinner goin’.”
“Always ruinin’ all the fun,” I teased, though my stomach was growling.
We got out of the water, droplets all over his shoulders, matching the freckles on my face. Sutton shook his head like a dog, trying to dry himself off. “Fuck, we should have brought towels.”
He grabbed his T-shirt and started wiping himself off with it. His muscles had gotten more cut lately, like Sutton spent his days carving his body out of stone.
“What? You’re lookin’ at me funny.”
Was I? I hadn’t realized it. “It’s cuz you’re so ugly.”
“That’s not what Paula said last night.” He wagged his brows the way I often did, and I popped him with my shirt. “Ouch. Shit. You’re always abusin’ me.”
“I give as good as I take.”
We grabbed our phones and started the walk back to the campsite. When we got there, Sutton said, “Imma go to the bathrooms and get changed.” Which he didn’t typically do, but whatever.
“Don’t stink it up too bad.”
“That’s you, and you’re gross.”
I laughed as he disappeared with his bag. I got a towel and dried off, stripped out of my clothes real quick so I didn’t get the tent wet, and changed.