Chapter 67
“Feels good, huh?”
“It does,” I said. “Clothes are for chumps.”
Joaquin laughed. He rolled under a wave and I heard him splash away. I floated for a moment, watching the stars, listening to the whoosh of the waves as they lifted me, then turned onto my belly and gave chase. Soon the water was too deep even for Joaquin to touch the bottom, and we tread in awkward overlapping circles, pretending for the most part not to ogle each other, except for the occasional appreciative grin.
“Is that Colin?”
And there I’d been, on the verge of two uninterrupted minutes of not obsessing over him. I looked toward the shore, wondering what Joaquin had seen. Would Colin be swimming toward us? Tearing up the beach on Raul’s scooter? Barfing into the sand?