Sinclair
“WELL, THAT WAS FUN,” I said dryly.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Jesse. “Is your foot still bleeding?”
I stopped walking for a second and removed my flip-flop. “A little. The cut isn’t too bad.”
“We should have stayed in the water then,” he said.
“Hell no,” I said. “What if a shark would have smelled the blood and came looking for me?”
“Oh, you worry too much,” he said.
“You don’t worry enough,” I retorted.
It was shortly after one o’clock in the morning and we were walking back towards the house.
Well, I was limping.
After getting the courage to strip down to my underwear, I’d finally found myself in the ocean with Jesse, who’d, thankfully, kept his shorts on. After going out just past my chest, I’d stepped on something sharp. When I swam back to shore, I’d noticed
