The day was blisteringly hot and cloudless. After weeks of non-stop rain and temps better suited to jeans and sweaters than bikinis and beach towels, the sweltering warmth was a shot of ecstasy. I raised my head to the sky, replenishing my depleted stores of vitamin D.

"Hey. Hi."

Startled out of a mental replay of the complicated cheerleading routine we'd been eating, breathing, and sleeping for the past two weeks, I looked over my shoulder. Against my will, a rush of blood rose up my neck and settled in my cheeks, making my entire face burn.

John gestured at the space beside me. "Mind if I sit?"

"No!" I said. "I mean, be my guest." I scooted over a few inches on the edge of the dock to make more room, even though there was plenty of space to begin with.

"Thanks," John said, sitting close enough that our shoulders brushed.

I'd had an inexplicable crush on John Kelly since the first day of ninth-grade geometry, and I had a pretty good feeling the attraction was mutual. Never mind that we'd said barely a dozen words to each other in the past three years, or the minor fact I had a boyfriend.

We lapsed into silence, though I could almost feel the exchange of electrons jumping from his arm to mine. I looked down, half expecting to see the tiny hairs electrically charged and standing on end. I wondered if he felt it, too.

"Nice day," I said, for lack of anything else to say. I glanced at John from the corner of my eye in time to see him smile.

"When in doubt," he said, "talk about the weather."

I laughed, the tension between us suddenly dissipating.

"You came with Jill Honeycutt, right?" I said.

John popped the top of the soda he'd brought with him. "Yeah, but something tells me I won't be going home with her."

He pointed with his chin, and I followed his gaze to where some of our classmates were playing "chicken" in the shallow water just off the rocky beach. I shielded my eyes with my hand to get a better look. Jill was perched on some guy's shoulders, laughing and shrieking as she made mad grabs at her opponent.

"Bummer," I said. "If it's any consolation, I don't think Jill's your type."

"It doesn't matter," John said. "I'm interested in someone else."

I glanced at him again to see the slight grin on his face and then cleared my throat. "Are they doing what I think they're doing?"

From my perspective, it looked like Jill and the other girl—Kayla, judging from her screeching laugh—were battling to see who could rip off the other's top. The strings on Kayla's bikini had come loose and were trailing down her arms, which she held crossed over her chest to keep from committing full-on indecent exposure. The guys, of course, were egging them on.

"Gross. They're so obnoxious."

John laughed and touched the edge of the ice-cold can to my arm. "Want some? You've been sitting down here by yourself for most of the party. I didn't take a drink yet," he added when I hesitated.

I took the offered can. "Thanks. That was very sweet of you." I lifted the drink to my lips, the carbonated liquid cool and refreshing as it hit the back of my throat. I felt his eyes on me as he watched me swallow, but all I could do was focus on not making a fool of myself by suddenly choking.

"I'm John Kelly, by the way."

I nestled the can between my knees. "I know who you are, John. We had history together last semester, remember? You sat in the row next to mine, behind Olivia Martin."

"I wasn't sure if you noticed me or even knew my name." He elbowed me lightly and leaned in as though about to tell a secret. "We don't exactly run with the same crowd."

"Are you saying I'm too high and mighty to talk to the common folk?" I teased.

He shrugged without meeting my gaze. "Don't cheerleaders and homecoming queens have a reputation to uphold?"

"I'd like to think I defy stereotypes."

John met my eyes and smiled. "I'm sure you do."

Blood pounded in my ears, nearly drowning out the voice of reason. I turned to stare out at the calm waters of the lake. I had a boyfriend, a very nice boyfriend who would undoubtedly be upset if he found out I was flirting with another guy. But how could I get rid of John without hurting his feelings or sounding presumptuous? What if he was just being nice?

We sat for several moments in silence, our legs swinging over the edge of the dock, before John nodded toward the water. "I'm going in. Wanna come?"

"No, thanks. I should get back to my friends."

"And leave me all alone?" The flirtatious tone was still in his voice.

"John, I think—"

"Stay," he said. "I'd feel like a total loser if you left. I hardly know anyone here."

"You hardly know me," I pointed out.

"True. But if you stay," he reasoned, "we can get to know each other better."

I gave him credit for being persistent. Still . . .

"John, I have a—"

"Stay," he said again. "Please."

I pursed my lips but nodded. What was the harm? "Fine."

John grinned and leaned in to kiss my cheek, his lips cool against my skin. While I thought better of my decision, he stood to kick off his flip-flops and pull his t-shirt over his head. Backing up a few paces, he took a running jump off the dock and plummeted into the water a few feet below, his splash sending up a cool spray that left droplets of water purling on my shins and spotting the hem of my dress.

John's head bobbed into view seconds later, water dripping from his dark hair and pinking his skin. "The water feels great!"

It was a blatant invitation for me to jump in and experience it for myself, but I stayed firmly in place, even though it was so hot my hairline prickled with sweat and made my skin feel sticky. The water lapped just below the midline of John's chest, leaving his head well above the surface. I was fairly confident I wouldn't go under, but I'd read plenty of accounts of people drowning in far less water than that.

I patted the dock beside me, which was reassuringly solid. "It feels pretty good up here, too."

"You don't know what you're missing!"

Peering down at John, I got dizzy just thinking about the prospect. "Thanks, but no thanks. Maybe some other time."

"I promise you'll have fun!" He lunged for my foot with a laugh, skimming my toes with his fingers as I yanked it out of reach.

His persistence was getting annoying now. I stood. "I said no. Look John, I'm sorry that Jill flaked out on you, but I have to go."

"Wait!" The teasing smile had fallen from his face. "I'm sorry, Blake. I like you. The thing is, you make me nervous, and when I'm nervous, I act like an asshole."

He grabbed the edge of the dock and pulled himself from the water, standing before me looking like a sad, drenched puppy. "I'm sorry," he said again.

I waved away his apology. "I didn't mean to flip out. It's just that I can't . . ." I hesitated, embarrassed to admit it. "I can't swim. At least, not very well."

John ran a hand through his hair, pushing wet strands out of his eyes. He twisted to survey the lake before finally returning his attention to me. "I can teach you."

I laughed. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Uh, because it could go horribly wrong and I could drown."

"Do you honestly think I would let you drown? C'mon." Without waiting for my answer, he plunged off the dock again.

Closing my eyes and saying a mental prayer, I slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders, letting the bright pink and lavender fabric pool at my ankles. Stepping to the edge of the dock, I peered down at John staring up at me. He returned the look with a grin, one green eye closed in a squint against the sharp glare of the sun.

"I don't think I can do this," I said.

"It's just mind over matter, Blake. On the count of three, okay?"

I took a deep breath and let it out in a steady stream of air. "Okay."

"Concentrate on my voice."

I bounced on the balls of my feet. "Concentrate on your voice. Got it."

"One, two, three . . . Jump!"

Without hesitating, I bent my knees and launched myself into the air. It seemed to take forever from the moment my feet left the solid warmth of the dock until I came crashing down again, which was more than enough time to wonder what the hell I was doing. I went under, cold water filling my nose and flooding my sinuses. There was nothing but total darkness and the deafening rush of silence in my ears. I panicked, thinking I had jumped too far out and was in way over my head, but then a strong hand clamped around my arm and pulled me to a standing position.

"I told you the water feels good," John said with a laugh as I brushed a mass of sopping hair out of my face.

My shoulders and head were still safely above the water, but I curled my toes in the rocky bottom of the lake, steadying myself against the wake of a boat in the distance. My right calf cramped with the effort of not drifting away.

"It doesn't feel good. It's freezing!" I couldn't believe John had talked me into doing this, and with apparently little effort. I didn't know whether to be angry at him or myself for being a spineless idiot.

John laughed again and linked his arm around my waist. "I guess the cold is relative. Don't worry, though. I've got you."

My grip on his arm tightened, my fingernails digging into his flesh. "I'm the only one in this world who doesn't know how to swim," I said through chattering teeth. "It's humiliating."

"Not everyone can swim," he replied. "It's easy enough to learn. All you have to do is move your arms and legs."

"And try not to drown," I pointed out.

"And try not to drown."

I shook with cold and nerves. All I wanted was to get out and find a warm, dry towel to wrap myself in, but I resolved to see this through to the end. "Okay. So teach me how to swim. What do I do now?"

"For starters, lift your legs."

My legs seemed to rise of their own accord, and John guided me into a reclining position. The sensation of falling back into what felt like empty space made my body zing with adrenaline, and I flailed my arms reflexively. His sturdy hand came to rest between my shoulder blades, and I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. John's other hand settled behind my knees, barely touching my skin. He smiled down at me, wet lashes framing a pair of vibrant green eyes. For the first time, I noticed the spray of freckles on his nose and cheeks and the perfect Cupid's bow of his lips. I wondered briefly what it would feel like to kiss his mouth but then quickly dismissed that thought from my mind.

"You're floating," he said. "That's the first step." The muffled sound of his voice carried through the water. Stretching my arms wide, I moved them in languid waves, as graceful as a manta ray's fins.

This was as close to swimming as I had come in years. My dad, in his attempt to teach me, had tossed me into the deep end of our swimming pool when I was a little girl, which had me swearing off all bodies of water deeper than the bathtub.

Without warning, the reassuring solidness of John's hands disappeared and I thrashed my arms and legs in automatic response. My uncoordinated movements did nothing to help me stay afloat, and I went under. John had me on my feet at once, and I came up spewing water from my mouth and nose.

"Why did you do that?" I demanded.

To his credit, he looked genuinely sorry. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice from above interrupted.

"What's going on?"

I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude when I looked up to see my best friend. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue with the swimming lesson anyway. Crush or no crush, I didn't have a death wish.

"I've been looking for you," Olivia said, peering down at me from the edge of the dock. "Seriously, what the hell are you doing? You know you can't swim."

Though Olivia's dark, oversized sunglasses made it impossible to see the look in her eyes, I knew from the tone of her voice that she was shocked to see me in the water, not to mention with another guy.

"I decided it was time to learn," I said, putting a few feet between John and me while refraining from adding, It's not what it looks like.

Olivia folded her arms over her chest. "Won't Zach be surprised when he finds out?"

I glared up at her. "Nothing is going on."

"Anyway," she said, "I've spent the entire party dodging Mr. Grabby Hands over there."

She threw a look over her shoulder, but she could have been talking about any number of the guys at the party. The majority of them were entitled jerks.

"I swear," she added. "Sometimes I feel like I have a sign around my neck that says 'Please Touch. I Don't Mind.' One of these days I'm going to sue the entire football team for sexual harassment." She huffed, but quickly changed courses. "So, who's your friend?"

"John Kelly," I said, gesturing self-consciously toward him. "You know him. He was in our history class last semester."

Olivia raised her glasses. "Oh, yeah. Charmed." She lowered them back in place and dug her keys out of her bag, jangling them at me. "I hate to break up this little soiree, but we have to go."

"But we haven't even eaten yet," I said, catching a whiff of smoke from the barbecue pit. "I'm starving."

"Sorry," Olivia said. "The twins were jumping on the bed, and one fell off and . . ." She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. "You know how the story goes. Mom thinks Eleanor needs stitches, but she's refusing to drag Henry along to Urgent Care. She said she's fed up with them today and can't take any more stress. I have to rush home to babysit. More money for me, right? I'm saving up for these kick-ass boots I found online."

"That bites," I said.

"Whatever," Olivia replied. "This party blows. Gabe and Zach didn't even bother showing up. Seriously, sometimes I wonder why we bother with them."

"I can take her home," John offered.

Olivia turned her scrutiny on him. "Aren't you here with Jill Honeycutt? As if that's going anywhere," she muttered. "Besides, in case you didn't know, Blake has a boyfriend."

"Libby!"

"I didn't realize she had to ask your permission," John said.

"She doesn't, but you know how clingy and emotional Zach gets, Blake. Do you really want to deal with that hot mess for the next two weeks if he finds out?"

"It's just a ride," I said.

"I promise to deliver her home safe and sound." John gave her a disarming smile, and for a moment I felt a qualm in the pit of my stomach, which I pushed down and ignored.

"I am holding you to that promise," Olivia warned. "As for you, Blake, I'll talk to you later."

"Olivia is intense," John later said as we were sitting on the dock drying out.

"We're best friends. She has my back and I've got hers. Don't you have a best friend?"

"I guess," he replied. "Hey, that was pretty good for your first time in the water."

Stretching my legs in front of me, I turned my face toward the sun. "And it'll be my last. Swimming is completely overrated."

John laughed. "Then how about we ditch this party and grab something to eat at The Market?"

I shook my head. John seemed like a nice guy, but I had to put a stop to whatever was going on between us before it got out of hand. "I need to get home. I can call Zach to—"

"It's just lunch," he said. "You said yourself you're starving. My treat. C'mon, say yes."

I sighed and stood to gather my things. "All right. But only because you're buying."

*****

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