“That’s cool,” Leonardo said with a big smile. “We can bring her back.”
She nodded, looking out onto the crowded lake. “You haven’t mentioned it in a while,” she said, splashing her feet in the water then glancing up at him. “Are you still going to try to take the LAPD test?”
He’d been staring at her when she glanced up at him in that same way she’d caught him doing more than once that day. His smile disappeared in reaction to her question, and he looked away. “I dunno.”
“Why?” she asked. “I thought it’s what you wanted.”
He took a long drink of his beer, so long he emptied it, and it’d been more than half full. For a second, Sarah wondered if maybe she should be worried about him drinking and driving on the Jet ski. Drunken accidents on the water weren’t unheard of, but he seemed fine still.
Tossing his empty bottle in a black trash bag they had tied to the canopy, he turned to her, licking his lips. “We need to talk.”
She tilted her head, wondering what about. “Okay, talk.”
The noise of the incoming Jet ski got their attention. Leo turned back to Sarah and eyed her half-eaten burger. “You almost done with that?”
Nodding, she looked around to see where she could get rid of the rest of her burger. She’d had a hot dog earlier and felt stuffed now.
“You not gonna finish that?”
She shook her head and he opened his mouth. It felt funny, but she put it in his mouth anyway, and he stood up holding his hand out for her. She took it, and he immediately laced his fingers through hers, making her insides flutter but not in a good way.
We need to talk.
Leonardo grabbed the extra vest from where it was hanging off the side of the canopy.
“You two going out again?” Marcello asked as he walked up from the water where he’d anchored the Jet ski.
Sarah didn’t miss the way both he and Bruno eyed her and Leonardo holding hands, but she felt weird about yanking her hand away like she wanted to. To her relief, he let go of her hand to help her get her life jacket on, only he stood a little too close to her. She wanted to tell him she knew how to put her own life jacket on, but a part of her felt as if she were being paranoid for no reason.
Instead, she focused on one of his many tattoos. One of them in particular had caught her attention earlier because at first glance she thought it was her last name, but at a closer look she saw it said “Fiera.”
She knew what it meant in Spanish, but still she was curious. “What’s that mean to you?” she asked, pointing at it.”
He stared at her, still working on tightening the straps of her life jacket. “It’s just a nickname,” he said as if he were looking for a reaction in her eyes. “It’s what all the guys call me.”
“Wild beast?” she asked.
He nodded, continuing to stare at her in that intense way, so she looked away. Her eyes focused on another tattoo: double L written in script on his upper arm. “What’s the double L stand for?” she asked.
She glanced up to see him staring at her in a stranger way now. “Let’s go talk.”
The moment he snapped all the snaps together on her vest, his hand was back in hers as they walked away toward the Jet ski. Her heart sped up again, knowing perfectly well Angel would be more than suspicious about Leonardo’s behavior. Had he been drinking faster than she’d noticed?
They reached the Jet ski, and he helped her up from behind. She climbed up awkwardly. She’d since decided there was just no graceful way to get on the damn thing. She straddled the seat and waited for him to climb up behind her. He sat down, pressing his body against hers from behind and brought his arm around the front of her belly snugly. “Let’s go somewhere private,” he whispered in her ear, and she immediately stiffened. She felt him loosen his hold around her and even back up a little. “So we could talk, baby girl.”
She turned her face him, not letting it go this time. “Why do you call me that?’
To her surprise, instead of looking alarmed that she’d question it, he smirked, wiping a speck of sand away from her face, close to her lips, which he stared at now. “Because you’re so tiny and delicate next to me. It’s what you make me think of.”
Gulping, she turned away from him and started the Jet ski up. Within minutes, they were out of the five-mile speed limit zone and she sped up. “Go that way,” he said loudly against her face so she’d hear him over the motor.
She headed toward the secluded area where he’d pointed, but the closer they got, the tighter her chest began to feel, and she slowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Sarah shook her head, trying desperately to shake the feeling of complete dread that crept over her—that feeling that she was being as stupid and naïve as she’d been back in high school with Coach Rudy. But before she knew it, she felt utterly choked up and panicked. All she could think of was Angel. God, she just wanted to be with him or at the very least be somewhere where she could text or call him.
“What’s wrong?” Leonardo asked again, sounding a little more concerned, and she turned the Jet ski around slowly.
“I don’t know,” she cried, feeling stupid. “This feels wrong. There’s something wrong. I shouldn’t be here. It’s not you.” She turned to him. “I just . . . after what happened with the coach in high school—”
“Oh, hell no, Sarah,” Leonardo said, pulling away so his body wasn’t touching hers at all. “I’d never—”