SUMMER SWAP // Chapter 22

Cheyenne’s cheeks had blossomed two rosy clown spots. Her eyes shone like wet glass. It wasn’t what Scarlett had intended.

Cheyenne had abandoned her at the railing and retreated to the rear of the deck, found herself now at a dead-end, standing on the far side of a teak table and two loungers, at a different railing on the opposite side of the yacht. It looked like Chey was contemplating jumping off. Scarlet said, “Hey, hey, what’s going on with you? Why are you so crazy?”

Cheyenne’s arms were folded, and she leaned against the handrailing like she wanted as much distance between her and Scarlet—and therefore admitting the truth—as she could. Scarlet stopped and put up both hands. “Tell me what’s going on, Chey.”

“I don’t even know what you’re saying,” Cheyenne said, her voice trembling.

“Don’t freak out on me. What the hell, Chey?”

“You tell me what the hey, Scarlet,” Cheyenne said, replacing fear with anger.

“Why are you mad at me? Please, chill out, okay?” She pulsed her open hands in surrender toward Cheyenne, like she was pumping the brakes on this runaway truck. “I’m coming over. Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Cheyenne said.

“Take some deep breaths.”

“I’m not having a panic attack,” Cheyenne spat, though it definitely looked like she was.

She didn’t embrace Cheyenne, didn’t hug her or touch her, instead got close, imitating the pose they’d held a moment ago on the other side of the yacht. Side-by-side, nonthreatening. Like how you might approach a strange and unsure dog. They were both quiet, and Scarlet could see Cheyenne’s hands trembling.

Scarlett said, “It’s no big deal.”

Cheyenne said, “I know it’s no big deal. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You can deny it or you can admit it, Chey. But if you want to talk about it, I want to hear. Trust me, I want to hear all about it.”

“Sullivan is seeing things,” Chey said.

Scarlet chanced a glance at Cheyenne. Her longtime college buddy and sorority sister. A shy kind of girl in groups, but very confident in her abilities otherwise. Strict parents. Prone to anxiety. Heart of gold.

She said, “I’m going to guess that Byron knows. What, you trust Byron more than me?” She chanced a small, one-sided smile. Cheyenne chewed her cheek and stared out of the lake.

“I watched you guys all day yesterday,” Scarlet said. “You three out there skinny-dipping.”

“I didn’t want to be an outsider.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Cody wanted you to be an outsider. That was the point.”

Cheyenne finally glanced her way and their eyes met. Cheyenne said, “What did you see?”

“I’m not judging, first of all. I’m really not, Chey. I watched all day because I thought it was a lot of fun. You know, I don’t think that any of this was a bad thing, I just mean . . .” She shrugged, didn’t know what to say. Then went for the truth. “I told Sully that Cody and Carla were the kind of couple that would do that. You know?”

Chey said, “Swing?”

“Or swap or whatever. I said it like a year ago. He calls me an idiot. But then I see this whole thing playing out in front of me yesterday and I was pretty sure I was right.”

“So, what do you think?”

“I don’t think anything about it. I’m just glad I got to rub my victory in Sullivan’s face.”

“What did Sullivan tell you he saw?”

“You know what he saw. He saw Cody coming out of your room. Cody goes into his room and a minute later, Byron comes out. Byron goes back to be with you.”

Cheyenne slumped forward and covered her face with both hands. It sank Scarlet’s stomach. This was not the intended result. She took both of Cheyenne’s wrists and guided her hands to fan outward so she could look at her. Cheyenne’s lips practically blubbered. Her eyes were pink, her brow furrowed.

Scarlet said, “How about this: I’m kind of . . . Not jealous . . .” She rolled her eyes around, searching for the right word. Cheyenne studied her and waited. Scarlet said, “Insulted? Maybe that’s it. Insulted.”

“What do you mean?” Cheyenne’s voice was thick, her throat closed off.

Scarlet showed her a smile. “I mean, like, what’s wrong with me? I’m right here. No one’s trying to lure me, get me to take my swimsuit off? Nobody was wagging their dick in my face, trying to tempt me.”

Chey still studied her, looking to see if this was taunting or honesty. Scarlet said, “Don’t you think that’s funny?”

Cheyenne shrugged. “I guess it’s kind of funny.”

“I’m not even joking, Chey. Like, I’m the savvy one who picks up on the fact they’re swingers—what am I, chopped liver? You and I look the same, practically. We could be sisters. What’s wrong with me?”

Cheyenne’s brow crinkled. “Did you want them to—”

“No,” she said emphatically, “no way,” and then realized that sounded like a negative judgment. “No, wait, I don’t mean it like that, Chey. You’re having fun, those two guys paying all that attention to you. Cody wanted you. You know that, right? You see that?”

“I guess.”

“So, I don’t know, nobody ever came on to me?”

“Are you still being funny?”

“Yes,” she said and laughed, and finally took her friend into an embrace. Scarlet closed her arms around her and held her. Cheyenne began to relax. Scarlet said, “I’m kind of kidding, kind of not. It’s not that I wanted to swing or anything, I just wouldn’t have minded a wink or something. Maybe ask me to come down and jump on the trampoline with their dick swinging around, you know?”

Cheyenne laughed, then groaned. “Do you think I’m dirty?”

“Oh my God,” she said, and pushed Cheyenne back so they could look at each other. “No way. No way, not at all. Is that what you think? I’m shocked, but amused. I’ll tell you what . . .”

“What?”

“You’re going to tell me every single freaking detail.”

***

Cody swam to the edge of the trampoline, hoisted himself up, then clambered to get out of the water. His muscles bulged under his tanned skin. Sunlight painted white slippery lines on his wet body. His shoulders bulged, his lats flexed. She caught a glimpse of those ridged muscles at his sides. And then he was up, perfect ass pale in the bright daylight next to his tanned and gorgeous back. He laughed at his clumsiness, and wicked the hair back from his face, turning now and lightly bouncing on his toes. His penis slapped his leg, bounced and swung.

Chey pointed her toes and slipped below the lake surface again. She groaned and blurted bubbles under the water, then began a breaststroke that brought her to the edge of the trampoline. Cody was up there above her, yelling to Philippe. She broke the surface, smoothed wet hair from her face. Cody was laughing, bouncing with his arms over his head, showing off the hard edges of his muscular stomach. Philippe bobbed off to her left, a bright orange Nerf football cocked back. He hurled it in a spiral, and Cody caught it, tucked it to his side and fell onto his shoulder. His penis made a wicked wet slap against his leg, then he was launched up again, standing upright and bobbing. He hoisted the ball back, his body like a perfect lean athlete. He rifled the ball to Philippe, who fumbled it. The Nerf ball spiraled up in the air a few dozen feet behind Philippe in an orange blur. Cody laughed, and Philippe growled, then burst into a breaststroke to retrieve the ball.

“How about you, Chey?”

Her elbows were across the trampoline’s edge, her feet flutter-kicking to keep her afloat. She looked up, saw Cody smiling, no longer bouncing. Hands on knees and hunched over, earnest to hear what she wanted. She avoided that good-looking thing hanging between his legs, squinted up at him, meeting his eyes. “How about me what?”

“You want to play catch?”

“I’m not much of a ball thrower.”

“More of a ball catcher?”

She looked at him for a double entendre, but he thumbed over a shoulder, standing upright now, sunlight highlighting his hard and broad chest and his lean midsection. “Come on up here, Chey. See if we can get them past you.”

“Wouldn’t we need a basketball net or something?”

“Nope, we make these games up as we go along. You play with the guys, you got to do it the way guys do it.”

“I don’t want anyone to fart on me or put me in a headlock.”

“That’s what you think guys do?”

“I have brothers,” she said.

Cody put up his hands, then crossed his heart. “I swear to God, Chey. I’m not going to put you in a headlock. I will not blow wind in your face. Noogies, however, are not out of the question. But only if you deserve it.”

She said, “You’re going to make me take my clothes off, aren’t you?”

“I would never,” he said and smiled. “You’re welcome to if you want.”

“I don’t think I want,” she said.

“That’s up to you. You don’t want to be free?” He waggled his hips and made his dick dance.

“God,” she groaned, and blocked her view.

Cody quickly corrected himself and laughed, grabbed his junk and held it against his thigh. “Just joking Chey. Am I freaking you out? We’re just having fun down here.”

“I don’t mind,” she said.

“That’s good, Chey. You do whatever makes you comfortable. I swear, though, if you go down to the skin, you’ll never catch me looking at you.”

“That’s because you’ll be looking at me when I’ve got my back turned.”

“I said you’re not going to catch me, didn’t say I wasn’t going to look.” He laughed again, saying, “Chey, I’m joking. You’re cool, right? Lily and Arlo are upstairs. It’s just the cool kids down here.” He extended a hand to her. “Come on, you come up here, I’ll get in the water, you can bounce on the trampoline. We’ll throw the ball to you,”

Then she was up, Cody taking her hand and hoisting her to join him, standing beside this hot naked guy. Philippe swam to the edge, tossed the football over to their feet, squeezed his nose, and brushed his hair back. “What are we doing now?”

“Chey’s going to catch. How you want to do it? How do we get points?”

Philippe thought about it, angling his face up and watching her. “Okay, we got to lob them so she can catch them. Every one she catches is a point. It’s you against me.” Then to her: “Chey, I need you to only catch my balls.”

Cody stepped in front of her abruptly and shouted, “Hey! No way, Philippe. We’re not going to do that. We’re not gonna say dirty things around Chey. She’s a nice girl, you hear me?”

Philippe stared at him for a second with a blank face. Then he laughed and said, “Fuck off,” and kicked himself away from the trampoline, back paddling and laughing.

“You see, Chey?” Cody said. “I watch out for you. I got your honor in mind.”

“So chivalrous,” she said, and Cody laughed, passed the ball to her, then jumped off the trampoline, doing a flip before crashing into the water.

Philippe called out to her, “You throw the ball, Chey. We got to race to get it.”

She laughed, said, “You got it,” and clutched the squishy Nerf ball. She bounced on her toes, Philippe and Cody bobbing out in the water with their arms overhead, waiting to see where she would throw it. Their eyes were on her. And she liked it. Shit, she loved it.

She bounced higher, feeling good. She’d been on a tighter diet for the last four months. Almost no carbs. Made it to the gym three days a week. Jogged three miles almost every morning. She jumped higher, let her breasts bounce in her bikini top, wanting them to see.