So her own anger and resentment also drained. And that was when she realized something else: they were chest to chest, thighs to thighs, and all their good parts in between were touching. And here was the thing about Walker—from a distance, he was impressive. Up close, even more so. He had an air about him, an easy confidence that never tipped into cocky and a way of moving that reminded her of a cat. A big, feral cat. Although this wasn’t what was making it hard to breath or giving her little tremors. Nope. She wanted to say it was adrenaline, but she knew better.

It was arousal.

Because damn. Walker up close and personal had always been her kryptonite, and apparently that hadn’t changed. She stared at his face, utterly still, aware of him holding her close, treading water for both of them, their gazes locked, feet occasionally brushing.

Neither of them shifted away. It was the first time she’d been this close to him in three years, and even longer than that since they’d touched like this, and dammit, how was it that he was even sexier now than he’d ever been?

She didn’t have many rules for herself, but the few she did have were necessary for her sanity. And one of them was to stay miles away from Walker—or if not miles, then about eight inches should do it.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, husky.

A part of her felt more okay and more alive than she’d been in a long, long time. But another part of her felt confused at the closeness and the concern in his voice, not to mention her body’s reaction to it. Unsure what to say, she reacted with predictable immaturity. She dunked him, then started swimming to shore.

He caught her in two strokes. “Are we racing?”

They’d always raced when they were younger. Everything had been a challenge between them, a dare. “Yes.”

“Same rules?”

First to shore had always gotten to be ruler of the universe for a whole day, and the loser had to do everything the other one said. Only a problem if one intended to lose, and she never intended to lose.

“Say it, Maze.”

“I’m going to win and you’re going to call me ruler of your universe for a whole day.”

“And a night,” he threatened . . . or was it a promise? In either case, she was already hauling ass toward the shore.

Before she’d gone three strokes, a shadow passed her.

Damn him.

By the time she stepped out of the water a minute later, dripping wet and breathless, Walker was standing there, casual as could be, also dripping wet, but not breathless in the slightest.

And he wasn’t alone. Nope, the whole gang had appeared—Jace, Heather, and Caitlin—all of them looking boggled.

“Holy cow,” Heather said. “Aren’t you guys freezing?”

Walker shook his head. “The water’s warm.”

The water was not warm, so it was a good thing that annoyance burned hot.

“Were you . . . racing?” Caitlin asked in disbelief.

“Of course not,” Maze said, and Walker actually laughed. She stared at him and found a slow smile curving her mouth too, because damn, his was infectious.

“Dude, you’re supposed to let the girl win,” Jace said.

“Are you kidding?” Walker asked, gaze still locked on Maze. “She’d rather lose than win by pity. And if you’ve spent the past . . . what was it? A year with her now? You’d know that.”

“Okay, so who needs a drink?” Heather asked brightly. Slipping her arms through Jace’s and Cat’s, she turned them toward the house, looking back to give Maze a look that wasn’t that hard to decipher.

Figure your shit out . . .

Right. Like she was so good at doing that. She eyed Walker and found herself wound up all over again.

He swiveled his gaze her way, arching a brow.

“The least you can do is pretend to be tired,” she said with disgust.

“I don’t pretend, Maze. Ever.”

No shit.

“I won fair and square.” He came close. Too close. “But it’s cute you were so certain you’d beat me.”

She snorted. “You think you know me.”

“I do know you. More than anyone else.”

True statement. Didn’t mean it didn’t piss her off. “If you’re so smart then, claim your prize. What do I have to do tomorrow?”

His eyes dropped to her mouth.

She stopped breathing. “You could have me do anything, and you want what, a simple kiss?”

“Oh, there’s nothing simple about kissing you. But I’m not asking for that. I wouldn’t kiss another man’s girlfriend.”

She opened her mouth but then shut it, because what could she say? This was a mess of her own making. “So . . . I don’t owe you a day?”

“Oh, you do,” he said smoothly. “A day and a night. Twenty-four hours, Maze.”

Gulp. “When?” she whispered.

“I’ll let you know.”

She crossed her arms, nervous. Worried. “But what do you want?”

He smiled and her stomach went squishy. And if she was being honest, that wasn’t her only physical reaction.

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” he said, and then followed the others, dripping water as he went, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, he suddenly looked downright cheerful.

Chapter 14

Walker’s man of honor to-do list:

—Work harder at staying away from the maid of honor.

Walker woke up the next morning to Maze rushing into his room, then immediately hiding behind his door, peeking out at whatever she was running from.

Normally, he needed caffeine or an early run to kick his brain into gear. But Maze and her wild bed-head hair, which was also her just-had-sex hair, did it for him. “What—”

“Shh!” she whisper-yelled at him, waving a hand behind her, which he supposed meant to shut the hell up.

He wasn’t much of a follower and rarely did as he was told, but he did indeed shut up, because she was in a T-shirt and . . . he wasn’t sure what else. It was light gray and oversized and had been washed so many times it looked soft and buttery, clinging to all her curves.

She was cold.

He was enjoying that—which, note to self, was better than any caffeine in the land—when she opened the door a little bit more and leaned out, looking left and right. The T-shirt rose up a little bit, exposing a pair of black silk bikini panties, which had also risen up some, giving her world-class ass a wedgie.

He’d had his hands and mouth on that ass. He’d bitten it. He’d squeezed it. And for one glorious night, it had belonged to him.

But far more important, he’d belonged to her.

It’d been a feeling like nothing he’d ever experienced. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually been someone’s. Actually, he could count the times with two fingers: Caitlin’s family, in which he included Heather, and . . . Maze.

“Who are you evading?” he asked. Please say Jace . . .

“Heather. She’s on a new get-fit kick, starting this morning apparently, and wanted me to run with her.”

Maze thought running was the devil. She clearly caught sight of something, or more likely someone, coming down the hall and quickly and quietly shut the door before pressing her hands and forehead to the wood and letting out a soft laugh.