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She barks out a laugh. “No, but that is a good name. I came to check in on you.”

“Check in on me? I’m not a toddler. I can swim on my own.”

“Not like that.” She huffs a breath and rolls her eyes. “You always take things so literally. I meant that you were in the pool all night, and we barely talked. I’m glad you’re finally acting like yourself and getting in the pool. That was always your favorite thing to do.”

“I’m pretty sure you were always my favorite thing to do,” I rasp and arch a brow.

She blushes, and for the first time tonight, it seems like I finally have the upper hand in a conversation, which is great because I’m going to need it.

“So, what, are we cool now?” I ask. “Like friends?”

“Cool?” She shakes her head. “Oh, far from it, but we’re better than we were when I first got to town. I’d say your status in my life has been upgraded from ‘shithead-ex’ to ‘temporary satisfactory fuck buddy’.”

“I guess I can live with satisfactory. Although maybe I can improve my status by the time you leave? I’d hate for you to think of me as anything less than exceptional.”

“Sounds like a win for both of us if you do.” Her words sink in, and it hits me again that our time together is limited.

I hate the realization that yet again, Sisi’s right. If I want a chance with Josie, I need to start being completely honest.

If I want her to include me in her life in any way going forward—even if it’s only as a fond memory from being her satisfactory fuck buddy—I can’t keep burying my truths.

I tip my chin toward my bag sitting on one of the patio chairs. “Can you grab that chair and my bag and bring them over here?”

She looks at the chair and back to me, her brows knitted together skeptically.

“The chair? Really, I’m fine on this towel unless you plan on living in this pool for the rest of the night.”

“Josie.” I soften my tone and hear the plea in it. “Please, just do it?”

She complies and brings the chair over next to the ladder before sitting back down on the towel.

“Thank you.”

I grab the ladder and pull myself up, rung by rung.

I’m almost out of the pool with my foot on the top step when her gaze rakes over me. I instantly love the way she shamelessly inspects from my neck and down my chest. The appreciation and outright lust make me feel good about myself, like no one else can.

Her eyes go lower, and she bites her lip when she looks at the bulge in my shorts. I take a deep breath and wait, knowing her eyes will continue down because she’ll spot the tattoos on my thighs.

Then I see it. Her brows furrow in confusion, and I note her startled expression. I brace myself for the inevitable look of pity that should take over her face any moment.

What feels like an eternity passes and she never gives me that look.

She looks up, and those honey brown eyes bore into mine.

“Sly.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “When?”

That’s all she manages to say before I take one hop out of the pool and into the chair. I grab my other towel from my gym bag and start drying myself off so that I can put my leg back on.

“A while ago,” I manage to muster as I towel off what’s left of my lower leg. Getting it clean and dry before putting my prosthetic on is second nature to me after years of this routine, but it’s hard to focus with the way her eyes follow every move I make.

“Sly, I—” She fumbles for words, and I want this moment to be over with. Even if I needed to tell her, I hate doing it. I expected the same kind of awkward pity that I would get from people years ago when it first happened. Instead, I swear she looks like she’s about to cry. I vowed to myself that I would never make her do that again after the last time I saw tears in her eyes. “I didn’t know. How? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?” A harsh laugh works its way up my chest. “When would I have told you, Josie?”

“I don’t know! Any of the times we’ve seen each other in the last few weeks? When were we fucking? You should have said something.”

“I really don’t think saying oh, by the way, I lost part of my leg in an accident five years ago is a great foreplay for meaningless hookups and you haven’t really hung around for pillow talk.”