I pulled off my cover-up and got the sunscreen out of the tote.
Ryan had collapsed under the umbrella with one forearm draped across his eyes.
“Ryan. Could you get my back? I can’t reach the middle.”
He barely moved the arm.
“Seriously? I feel awful in this heat. My head’s pounding.”
“It’ll take ten seconds.”
He sighed. That enormous theatrical sigh he saves for anything involving effort on a weekend.
“Claire. I said I don’t feel well. I need to get in the water and cool down.”
I bit back what I wanted to say. I twisted my arm around behind me and smeared sunscreen wherever my fingers could reach, which was about half of my back, in stripes.
And then Lauren arrived.
Her Entrance
She came across the sand in a sheer cover-up over a white swimsuit that had clearly not come from Target. Tanned, composed, entirely untouched by the ninety-one-degree heat.
