Reap (The Harvest Saga Book 1) by Casey L. Bond

lose so many bars. It took a while to make soap, so each bar was a commodity. She and I both hated that job with a passion. I missed her. Exhaling, I gingerly sat on the end of the rock, dipping my toes in to test the temperature of the water. It was perfect. The sun had warmed it today, but only just enough. The cool nights had tempered it nicely. This was going to feel great. I unwrapped my bandages and peeled them away. Some were stuck to me, bonded with the dried blood from earlier. It hurt, but I ripped the fabric away. Best to do it quickly.
    I slipped off the rock into the water and adjusted to it for a moment before swimming several yards out into the lake. I made the trip out and back at a leisurely pace several times. Approaching the rock again, someone was standing nearby undressing.  Oh my…no! It was Crew! I grasped my mouth with one hand and my breasts with the other and then decided to swim back out and wait for him to wash up and leave.
    My plan backfired. He didn’t just wash and leave. He stripped and then began swimming laps, straight toward me. And he was fast, a damn good swimmer. I couldn’t swim well because of my back and though I was comfortable, I’d never seen anyone with so perfect a stroke in my life. I dodged to the side and began swimming horizontally away from him. His head was down. Surely he would miss me. When he was right across from me, something slimy touched my leg and I let out a screech. He popped up from the water and looked right at me. I covered my important lady bits.
    “Abby?” He shook the water from his hair and used his hand to clear it from his eyes. “What are you doing here? And why are you screaming?”
    “I’m swimming and was going to bathe. What are you doing here?” I accused. The water rippled down his skin in tiny torrents. Holy hotness without a shirt on. The boys from Cotton shouldn’t be so selfish. They should never wear shirts. They should conserve raw materials and go shirtless all the time. Because it was nice. Very nice. And, very, very hot.
    Freaking out internally, I treaded water and tried to cover myself. He grinned as he looked at me, and his smile widened as his eyes drooped lower than my own. I gritted my teeth together, my cheeks hot as fire. “Hey! I asked you what you were doing here! This is my spot.”
    “The lake is your spot? I’m swimming and going to clean up, too. Not like there’s running…” He shook his head.
    “Not like there’s running what?”
    “Nothing. Forget it. Why were you screaming like you were dying?” He splashed some water at me.
    I splashed back at him with my free hand. “I was screaming like some slimy fish brushed my leg, which was exactly what happened. It’s probably your fault. You probably scared it toward me. You were swimming like someone was after you.” He didn’t respond, just grinned. He was so beautiful. If a man could be considered beautiful, he was exactly that. It was time for me to leave. He stared at me intently, silence drowning out the sounds of the night swirling around us.  “Well, I’m going to go. Can you stay out here for a few minutes?”
    “Yeah. Sure.” He was treading water with both arms extended and I couldn’t help but look at him again. His dark hair glistened in the moonlight and I could still tell his skin was pink. He smirked when he caught me ogling him, and I rolled my eyes and started to the shore sideways, one arm covering myself and the other paddling. The movement concealed my back. If it wasn’t mangled, I would have faced away from him and used both arms. He chuckled as I struggled toward the shore.
    “Maybe we can skinny-dip together tomorrow, Abigail!” he yelled from behind me.
    “I was not skinny-dipping with you. I was bathing!”
    “Sure. Whatever.” I looked back at him and felt like roaring, but he was grinning back at me. I kicked my feet and hoped the splash shut him up. He started laughing. Before I exited the water, I looked at him.