I couldn't decide between an early update and sneak peeks at my other WIPs, so after you've read this, run over to my reader group on FB for a little look at Queen of the Sky and Someone Else's Baby ;)

Caught In A Riptide

Chapter Seven

Lakely

What is he doing to me?

I can feel him staring, his gaze burning wherever it touches. When I glance sideways at Arlo and catch him staring at the swath of skin exposed by the slit up my dress, I remember what Charlotte told me when she called me earlier while I was getting ready.

"Whoa, girl! Tyler's going to have a heart attack when he sees you in that!"

I laughed at the time, too much of a chicken to admit that it wasn't Tyler whose reaction I was looking for when I picked out my dress.

I mean, I'm too late anyway.

I got the dress weeks ago, long before Vicky ever arrived on the scene.

The satin soft material clings to me, flaring out from my waist in a waterfall of forest green. Heidi talked me into it when I tried to talk myself out of it because the neckline dips lower than I'd usually go for. I had to slip a shrug on when Tyler picked me up from my house. Dad never would have let me leave if he'd seen it.

As it happens, Tyler did have a pretty obvious reaction when I slipped off the shrug as we headed down the street, but it pales in comparison to the way Arlo's eyes roam over me now, the way his chest visibly heaves in a big breath.

I shiver, clinging onto the railing. My breath hitches when his gaze meets mine. I'm caught. Trapped in his sights like a rabbit in headlights.

I don't know if it's the shots Heidi's been sneaking me since we got here or the intensity of Arlo's gaze that makes me do it, but instead of breaking the tension, I dive headfirst into it. Releasing the railing with a trembling hand, I take a step toward Arlo, close enough for his sharp exhale to wash over my face. I can't stop my eyes sweeping over his broad shoulders in his fitted white shirt, the strength in his legs barely hidden by his pants. I've seen those legs, clung to his arms, touched the muscles that make up his chest and defined abdomen.

It's really not fair, for him to be so beautiful and me to be just...me.

"Arlo…"

His brows furrow a little, eyes widening when I reach up toward his chest. I hesitate, debating...but just as I lay my palm over his chest, his ringtone slices through the air. Stepping back with a grunt, he pulls it from his jacket pocket while I turn back to the view and attempt to calm my racing heart.

For a second, just a second, I thought…

What? You thought he was going to kiss you?

Staring out at the sea, at the foam it creates and abandons on the shore, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying.

You're kidding yourself. You've always been kidding yourself.

The bitter voice in the back of my mind is starting to sound frustratingly like Vicky. I hate it. I hate her.

"What?" Arlo barks.

Tuning him out, I down the beer in my hand in one, panting a soft fuck when I'm done and the bottle slips from my shaky hand. Luckily it lands our side of the railing, hitting the metal floor with a clang that has Arlo spinning around. I can feel his eyes on me again, but this time, I'm not foolish enough to believe they hold anything but friendliness and shock at the sudden sound.

"I want to go back downstairs," I mumble, brushing past him as he tells whoever's on the phone that he'll be back soon.

"Hang on a sec...Lakely, wait!"

I don't know this place as well as he does, but I head toward the first elevator I see and bank on him pausing to grab his jacket and the beers we didn't drink. I'm right, the doors sliding closed when he appears in the hall with a deep frown on his face and his forever-smile turned down.

I'm sorry.

Downstairs, I spot Tyler almost right away. He's sitting at a table with some of his baseball teammates. I met a couple of them on Thursday when we hung out at one of their houses—Quil, I think his name is—so I'm greeted with smiles and nods of recognition when I drop into the seat beside Tyler. "Hey, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

That's...new.

As his fingers slip between mine, I try it on for size, stifling a grimace. It doesn't quite fit.

But it could. Give him a chance.

Now that voice sounds suspiciously like Mom's. She likes Tyler, loves him actually. She almost burst my eardrums with her squeal when I told her this morning that Tyler was going to pick me up for prom. It was a last-minute thing after Alec and Renata came into the bakery and told me they were getting a ride with Vicky and Arlo.

Honestly, I don't know why I didn't expect it. Arlo and Vicky have been joined at the hip since his birthday party, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that he'd want to bring her tonight. When Tyler stopped by the bakery just before my shift ended at noon, reiterating his offer to be my date, I found myself saying 'yes' instead of 'no.'

It shocked me and him, if his delayed grin was anything to go by.

"You having a good time?" he asks, leaning over to speak into my ear.

Nodding, I plaster a smile on my face and force myself not to look around for Arlo. "Yeah. You?"

"Better, now you're back." Some of his teammates groan as their dates come over mob-handed, pulling them away from the snack stash they've amassed, to dance with them. Cocking his head, Tyler nods toward the dance floor. "You wanna dance?"

"Sure."

I have too much nervous energy to just sit, so I let him pull me onto the dance floor. We share a slightly awkward laugh when we get there just as the DJ starts a slow song. Sliding my hands up onto his shoulders, I try to squash the thought that it feels weird having Tyler's hands on me and just try to enjoy it.

"Where did you disappear off to? I saw you talking to Arlo…"

Swallowing a sigh, I plaster a smile on my face. "He just wanted to get me a beer. The punch is spiked."

"Ah," he mouths, nodding, but he doesn't look convinced. After clearing his throat, he purses his lips, and I don't think I'm going to like what he's about to say. "You and Arlo...have you...uh, are you…"

My foolish heart thumps hard when I force a laugh, the sound too harsh to be real; I just hope the music masks it. "We're just friends! God, we'd never...no, we're absolutely just friends."

Jesus, Lakely. Cool it.

Tyler's dark eyes crinkle at the corners, teeth flashing pink-blue-purple in the strobe lights. "Okay. That's...yeah."

We sway together for another chorus. When he gets ready to open his mouth again, I act on impulse.

I feel his shock when I press my lips against his. Swallowing my nerves, I leave my eyes squeezed shut, lifting my hands slightly away from his shoulders in case he wants to run.

It only takes a second for me to realize he's not running. Less than that, even.

His breath fans over my face, but I don't have time to apologize before his lips are meeting mine again, coaxing them to move and drawing a surprised little giggle from my chest. My stomach knots, heart pounds, and my nerves are replaced by a surge of confidence when his hands slip around my waist to tug me into his chest.

He wants me.

He wants me.

He wants me.

Gripping his shoulder with one hand, I let the other slide up into his black hair, the strands soft between my fingers as he groans quietly and pulls back.

My eyes flutter open, a bashful smile spreading over my face. I can feel my cheeks heating as he chuckles, the sound lost in the more upbeat song the DJ has switched over to. We're taking up prime real estate on the dance floor, standing still as our classmates leap around us yelling the lyrics to whatever song is playing.

"That was...unexpected," Tyler grins, all bright eyes and wide smiles.

"I...yeah." I blow out a big breath, biting the inside of my cheek. "Was it okay?"

Tyler laughs, squeezing me around the middle and resting his forehead against mine. For the first time with him, as he brushes a kiss over my lips, I feel a frisson of excitement, of attraction, fluttering in my belly. "It was great. I just didn't expect it. I mean…"

My eyes flick over his shoulder as he trails off, gathering his words, and the warmth I was just feeling slips out through my feet along with my stomach. Arlo is back, now with Vicky plastered to him from their lips to their hips.

Before tears or a scream can ruin the cool, calm, collected veneer I've crafted, I turn my gaze back to Tyler and make a promise to myself that this is it. This is how I get over Arlo. "K-kiss me?"

I don't need to ask twice, but I'm so busy pushing Arlo out of my head that I don't see him pushing Vicky away or the stricken look on his face when he spots me and Tyler.

~ oOo ~

"What time did you get home last night?"

Digging into my cereal, I swat Austin away from my OJ and look up at Dad as he strolls in with the newspaper under his arm and a mug of coffee in his hand. "Just before twelve."

He hums. That's right, I beat curfew. "Did you have fun?"

I almost grimace, thoughts of Arlo and Vicky and that whole mess swirling through my brain...but then I remember laughing with Tyler, kissing Tyler, and spending the night getting to know some of his teammates' girlfriends.

When I look up at Dad again, at his questioning smile and raised eyebrows, I grin. "Yeah, it was great. I had a really good time."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." He seems to mull something over before clearing his throat. "And, uh, this Tyler...he'll be going with you on this birthday road trip, I assume?"

"Actually, no," I admit. "It'll be me, Arlo, Charlotte, Heidi, Demetri, Liam, Jax and Finn, and a few of their buddies."

"So you'll have adult supervision," he says, and it sounds like he's reminding himself of that fact. I smirk into my Cheerios. I'm more 'adult' than Jaxson and Finley Cullen, but I don't need to tell Dad that. "Why isn't Tyler going?"

I shrug. "I didn't arrange it."

It's a lie by omission. I know why Tyler isn't going, but I don't need to give Dad any more reasons not to like Arlo, not after he brought me home drunk that time last year and Dad was the one who answered the front door. I threw up over his bare feet and he hasn't knowingly let me go to a party where there might be alcohol since. If I tell him Arlo would never let Tyler come, it'll only be another black mark against his name.

"Can I come?" Austin asks around a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

"No," Dad and I say together, grinning at each other across the table as we follow it up with a laughed "Jinx!"

Mom walks into the kitchen then, looking between us with a curious smile. "You're very cheerful today. That bodes well for the favors I'm about to call in."

Austin, Dad, and I groan as her smile widens.

"I have plans with Caben today, Mom," Austin whines, fist-pumping when she says she just wants him to tidy up his room and then he's free to do whatever. Disappearing upstairs with his cereal and his iPad, Austin leaves me with our parents. When they share a loaded look before turning to me at the same time, my shoulders slump and my good mood starts to slip away from me.

"What?"

"Don't look so nervous, sweetie!" Mom snorts, taking the seat Austin just vacated. "Your dad and I just wanted to talk to you about your trip."

"Right…"

I trail off warily, suddenly losing my appetite when Mom starts her next sentence with "Sex."

"Christ, Mom." Grabbing my half-finished cereal and dumping the bowl in the sink, I shake my head. "Really?"

"What?" she asks with wide eyes, turning in her chair to face me. "It's a necessary conversation, sweetie. If you're going off for a week with your boyfriend, it's one we need to have."

"No we don't. She's seventeen. She shouldn't be doing anything," Dad grumbles, and I see my opening to kill this conversation before it can scar me.

"Exactly! Exactly what he said. I'm not doing anything. Nothing, nothing at all. Well, I mean, I kissed Tyler last night, but that's it."

Mom raises her eyebrows at me. "That's it?"

"That's it," I nod firmly. "I'm not...that's not…" Looking up at the ceiling, I count my blessings that Austin scarpered. At least he's safe from this conversation for a few years yet. "Look, you don't have to worry about that, okay? Tyler isn't even coming on the trip, but even if he was, it's still not something you need to worry about with me."

Mom and Dad share another of their loaded looks. I mentally cross my fingers and fight a smile when they nod and tell me they trust me to make good decisions.

"Good. Now that's over with, I can go, right? I'm meeting Arlo in a bit to make sure we've got everything covered." Excitement for our trip mixes with nerves at seeing him after last night. "He's finally going to tell me where we're going."

Mom smiles. "You're going to have a wonderful time. Of course you can go over there. Oh, I have a box of treats you can take over to Bella. Come find me before you go, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Mom."

An hour later, when I pull in behind Edward's Jeep—that Arlo regularly 'borrows'—I forget to be nervous for just a second. He's wrestling with one of the identical twins on the grass, the rest of the sixers and Finley sitting on the porch. They've all picked their side so their hoots and hollers are loud as hell when I climb out of my car to go join them. Sitting down beside Asher, which means it's Mackenzie Arlo has in a loose headlock right now, I grin and ruffle his hair.

"Who's your money on?"

Asher flashes me a distracted, crooked grin. "Mac, obviously."

"Obviously," I laugh, draping an arm around his shoulders as my eyes follow Arlo.

For a short time in middle school, he was on the wrestling team—which is why he's the one practicing with Mackenzie and not Finley, who favors football, I guess.

I promised myself I'd stop objectifying Arlo, but it's difficult when he's rolling around on the grass in a loose pair of sweatshorts and nothing else, grass staining his chest when Mackenzie finally taps out and they both lope over to us.

His smile widens when he spots me among his siblings, half of them clamouring to high-five him while the other half commiserate with Mackenzie.

"Hey, Lakers."

I can see the hurt he hides behind his roguish grin, the confusion. It guts me, but for the first time in years, I try to put myself first. I need to get over him. I can't keep up this ridiculous idea that one day he'll turn around and suddenly see me as more than just his best friend, the girl he friendzoned hard back in kindergarten.

For the first time, I'm not going to apologize for doing what I needed to do and giving myself some space.

"I guess you're here to talk road trip?" Finley asks, offering me a hand.

Grinning, I pull my eyes away from Arlo and let his brother help me up. "You guess right. I've packed two cases. One for hot weather, one for cold," I add when he cocks his head in question.

"Ah," Finley mouths, flashing the same grin Arlo often wears. They really do look a lot alike for having different hair and eye color. "Well, I'll leave you two to it." Turning his attention to the sixers, he rounds them up and reminds them they promised their mom they'd get their homework done before she got back.

"Your mom's out?" I ask, just to kill the silence left behind when Finley herds the sixers inside.

Arlo flops down on the porch steps, swiping a towel from the railing to pat his sweaty shoulders and chest dry. "Yeah. Dad took her on a date in Jacksonville."

I force myself to focus on his words, not his chest or the muscles bunching in his arms.

"Uh, right…" Shaking my head, I remember the box of pastries and cakes on my backseat. "Oh, one sec."

When I return with a box bearing the bakery's logo, Arlo's glee is obvious. "If this is a bribe to let you in on some of the things I have planned for next week, it's working."

I grin. "Yeah, I know."

"C'mon, we'll go around back. It's too fuckin' hot not to be in the pool."

I happen to agree, so I'm glad I thought to switch out my underwear for a bikini before I came over. Once we're floating on our backs in the pool, Mom's treats tucked under a chair near the ladder, I turn my head to face Arlo. "All right, spill. Where are y'all taking me?"

He huffs a chuckle, flipping over onto his stomach. With his arms out at his sides and his smile on the surface, he looks carefree, boyish. The only thing ruining the picture is his shorter hair. I could have cried when Tyler pulled his uncle's car up outside the hotel and I spotted Arlo's head. I still can't believe it's all gone.

Reaching out, I run my fingers through the short curls on top, brush them over the even shorter sides where the hair is no longer than the width of my finger. It makes me sad to think he probably can't even get his hair in a bun.

"Why did you do it?" I whisper, my gaze dropping to his face when he murmurs her name. "What...why?"

"She just suggested that it might be time for a change, you know, something different."

"I don't like it."

He frowns and I curse my lack of filter.

"I mean...it's not you. It's not my Arlo."

I curse those words, too, because he's not my Arlo. When am I going to get that through my head?

"I'm gonna grow it back out," he admits after a minute or six.

I nod. "Good."

Blowing out a big breath, I watch him muster a grin. "So, do you wanna know where our first stop on the trip is, or the destination? You can find out one or the other today and the rest tomorrow."

"Gah, that's mean!" I twist around so I'm treading water, facing him. The sun shines off his golden hair and the water clinging to his shoulders as he shifts so he's upright too. "Why can't I know all of it? You know I'm impatient."

His grin gets a little more genuine. "That's exactly why, Lakers. Because you're impatient. It's more fun."

Narrowing my eyes, I wait until he glances past me at something on the horizon—probably a boat in the sea or something—before shoving the water hard. It washes over his head in a wave as I squeal and kick backward, away from his tickling hands and surprised laughter.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that!"

"Ahhhh, st-stop!" I screech, slapping at his hands as he pulls me back by my waist, warm fingers pressing into my sides, hot breath washing over my water-cooled skin as he tickles me breathless. Pretending to have water in my mouth, I take my opportunity and squirm free of his grip while he worries I'm choking. He realizes my game too quickly, pulling my back against his chest. This time we're face to face, intense brown-black eyes to my watered-down chestnut.

Our chests heave as we both try to catch our breaths, our smiles mirrored as he laughs and shakes his head so water droplets fly around us. "It's like you let me catch you," he chuckles, and I sober.

You have no idea, silly boy.

He's all warm, hot, lovable Arlo when he's like this. When he hasn't got his bitch of a girlfriend attached to him.

As we bob in the water, the sun beaming down on him and a crooked grin spread wide across his face, I wonder what she'd think of our position.

I wonder what Tyler would think.

Remembering the promise I made myself, I swallow thoughts of sliding my hands from Arlo's shoulders into his hair, short as it now is. I shove them into a box along with all the other daydreams I've had including me and him being more than just what we are now and lock it up tight.

"I'll just go get us some towels and then I'll tell you all about our trip to Miami…" After a few beats of my racing heart and his eyes searching mine, he releases me.

I squeal internally—GAH, Miami?—but I'm too distracted by the look on his face.

I watch him go, wondering if I'll ever be able to let him go so easily, knowing I probably won't.

Dumb kids, amiright? *le sigh*

As always, huge thanks go to each and every one of you, and to my wonderful team of ladies who keep me on the straight and narrow and kick my butt when I get lazy—annaharding, maplestyle, and hotteaforme

xo