Free Killer Summer by Ridley Pearson Page B

her. He’d slipped out of his shirt but was taking his time with his pants. His state of arousal was apparent from across the steaming pool.
    It’s now or never, thought Summer.
    She unhooked her bra, taking a deep breath, hoping for courage, and let it slide down her arms. Goose bumps raced up her ribs. She squared her shoulders to make herself look even bigger than she was, hoping he was too far away to see her blush. She slid her fingers into the elastic of her bikini briefs.
    I’ve gone this far . . .
    She pulled down the briefs with both thumbs, and it was done. Dragging the liquor bag behind her, she slipped into the water, gasping at the heat.
    By the time she looked up, Kevin was in the pool waist-deep.
    “Oh . . . damn,” she said, sinking in up to her chin, hiding herself from his stare. But it was too hot to stay under for long.
    “Can you believe this just comes up out of the ground all on its own?” he asked.
    “Now I know what a McDonald’s French fry feels like.”
    Hearing herself, she thought she sounded about seven years old. He came toward her, and their legs touched. Terrified, she pulled away and retrieved the bag.
    She passed him a beer. It made her feel more in control.
    “Just one beer,” he said. “A woman died out here last year, getting drunk and staying in the pool too long. So if we’re going to get serious about drinking, it has to be out of the water.”
    She couldn’t stop herself from laughing.
    “What?” he asked.
    “You are, like, way different than most guys.”
    “Because?”
    “Because most guys would want to get a naked girl drunk in a hot springs. And here you are, all worried about it.”
    “I’m not all worried about it ,” he said defensively. “But I also know what’s stupid, and getting drunk in a hot tub is stupid.” He chuckled to himself. “I guess when your uncle’s the sheriff . . .” He let it hang there.
    “Yeah, that can’t be perfect.”
    Chin-deep, she was far too hot. She felt his eyes search her as she stood up, the waterline at her waist. To his credit, he tried to keep his eyes off her chest, but he strayed.
    “You’re sweet,” she said, gulping some beer. She moved toward him, kissed him on the cheek, and made a point of rubbing her breast against his arm.
    She bumped against him below water as well, just to make sure she had his attention.
    Pleased with her accomplishment, she sipped some more of the beer. He was right: it went straight to her head.
    He rambled on about something to do with geology, but she didn’t hear him. She’d already moved on to phase two.
    She bobbed up and gave him another look at her front. “You want to take me down to the airport tomorrow night?” she said.
    “There’s a shuttle every—”
    “I don’t want to take the shuttle,” she cut him off.
    Summer sank back down in the water. She couldn’t have some driver remembering her. She had a plan, and her fake driver’s license was part of it, her father was part of it, Enrico was part of it. And now so was a boy named Kevin.
    “Yeah, okay, I guess. Why the airport?” he asked. “You going somewhere?”
    “I . . . ah . . . I just wondered if you’ve ever seen the inside of a Learjet.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Totally. I left something in the jet and I want to pick it up, and I don’t want to take the shuttle. I hate public transportation.”
    “Because?”
    “Because I don’t take public transportation,” she said.
    “And you’d show me around inside the jet.” Kevin made it a statement.
    “I’d show you lots of stuff.” She tried to make it sound sexy but wasn’t sure Kevin caught it.
    “You mean I could sit in the pilot’s seat?”
    She bit back a smile. Boys . “Whatever . . .”
    “How big is it?”
    “You won’t believe it. And the seats fold flat like a bed.”
    “No way.”
    He still didn’t get it.
    “It’ll be fun, ” she said.
    That time, she thought he got it.
    She didn’t know he carried a pager until it