Doug’s arms sliced through the water in powerful strokes, pulling him inexorably to his target. Old Soaker Island was only a deserted strip of rock, but today he would own it. He surged up through the surface and shook the Atlantic from his eyes. The smudge of island lay dead ahead—his bearing was right on. Splashing drew his attention over his left shoulder. Thirty yards away, Brian was a machine, cleaving through the gray water. Mighty…but off target as usual, Doug thought and smirked. At this rate, Brian would miss Old Soaker by fifty yards or more. Without lane markings, Brian always had a hard time swimming a straight line. “Swim with me.” Unexpected, the sound made Doug jump and twist. The girl from the restaurant—Meeka—was pitching in the choppy waves a few body lengths away. How’d she swim up without me hearing? An enigmatic smile illuminated her face. He remembered those lips from last night, how cool and salty they were. How good they had felt on his. His lips curled a bit in response. “What’re you doing out here?” Oh, that was brilliant! “Swimming.” “Oh. Do you…do you swim here a lot?” A wave hit his face, flooding his nose with water. He hacked like an old smoker. “Swim with me, Doug.” An effusive smile cracked his face, twisted by a few straggling coughs. She remembers my name. “Was that you out on the bay last night?” “Yes. Why didn’t you join me?” Without thinking, he turned to check on Brian’s progress. “Um, ’cause swimming in the ocean in the middle of the night isn’t real safe, especially drunk.” Brian was still far off course. Doug swiveled his attention back to Meeka. Her gaze flicked out to Brian and back. “Yes, I can see how male companionship and beer was so much more alluring than spending the evening with me.” “Yeah, I, uh…” His decision last night had been the wrong one. Instead of staying with Meeka, he had followed Brian down to the beach to drink beer and vodka with some college guys. Well into the binge, he thought he had seen her swimming off shore, waving at him. “Doug?” But here she was now. Why live in the past? “I’d like to make it up to you,” he said in a stroke of budding maturity. “Sure. I’d like that.” “Doug? Hey, Doug! D’you find a mermaid?” Brian’s voice crested the waves, and he laughed at his supposed humor. “Oh, it’s just your mattress from last night.” Doug flinched in embarrassment. Why couldn’t you have kept swimming? “Sorry. He’s kinda stupid.” “Who cares what he says,” Meeka said. “And, I do want to make love to you.” He thought he had misheard her. “Um…” “Swim with me.”
Excerpt Copyright © 2014 Jason T. Graves, all rights reserved.
Doug’s arms sliced through the water in powerful strokes, pulling him inexorably to his target. Old Soaker Island was only a deserted strip of rock, but today he would own it. He surged up through the surface and shook the Atlantic from his eyes. The smudge of island lay dead ahead—his bearing was right on.
Splashing drew his attention over his left shoulder. Thirty yards away, Brian was a machine, cleaving through the gray water. Mighty…but off target as usual, Doug thought and smirked. At this rate, Brian would miss Old Soaker by fifty yards or more. Without lane markings, Brian always had a hard time swimming a straight line.
“Swim with me.”
Unexpected, the sound made Doug jump and twist. The girl from the restaurant—Meeka—was pitching in the choppy waves a few body lengths away. How’d she swim up without me hearing? An enigmatic smile illuminated her face. He remembered those lips from last night, how cool and salty they were. How good they had felt on his.
His lips curled a bit in response. “What’re you doing out here?” Oh, that was brilliant!
“Swimming.”
“Oh. Do you…do you swim here a lot?”
A wave hit his face, flooding his nose with water. He hacked like an old smoker.
“Swim with me, Doug.”
An effusive smile cracked his face, twisted by a few straggling coughs. She remembers my name. “Was that you out on the bay last night?”
“Yes. Why didn’t you join me?”
Without thinking, he turned to check on Brian’s progress. “Um, ’cause swimming in the ocean in the middle of the night isn’t real safe, especially drunk.” Brian was still far off course. Doug swiveled his attention back to Meeka.
Her gaze flicked out to Brian and back. “Yes, I can see how male companionship and beer was so much more alluring than spending the evening with me.”
“Yeah, I, uh…” His decision last night had been the wrong one. Instead of staying with Meeka, he had followed Brian down to the beach to drink beer and vodka with some college guys. Well into the binge, he thought he had seen her swimming off shore, waving at him.
“Doug?”
But here she was now. Why live in the past?
“I’d like to make it up to you,” he said in a stroke of budding maturity.
“Sure. I’d like that.”
“Doug? Hey, Doug! D’you find a mermaid?” Brian’s voice crested the waves, and he laughed at his supposed humor. “Oh, it’s just your mattress from last night.”
Doug flinched in embarrassment. Why couldn’t you have kept swimming? “Sorry. He’s kinda stupid.”
“Who cares what he says,” Meeka said. “And, I do want to make love to you.”
He thought he had misheard her. “Um…”
“Swim with me.”