LAUREN
I wasn’t a second late for my lesson. I didn’t want to jeopardize the tentative truce Will and I had struck the night before.
Still, I was surprised to hear myself breathe, “You’re here . . .” when I found him waiting for me as I stepped out of the locker room. I guess part of me had been convinced I’d imagined the whole thing—some sort of drunken hallucination.
He gave me a stupid grin. “Deal’s a deal, right?”
My palms were sweaty and my mouth grew parched as I neared the pool. It was fear, I told myself. But I was less than convinced as I realize I was concentrating more on Will than the water.
The hour-long lesson went by in a blur. I tried not to be disappointed that Will was all business. He kept a polite, but professional distance. Had I expected that last night had changed everything between us? That he would take more of a hands-on approach?
Maybe I just wanted more of the “hands-on” part.
I let my eyes wander over the muscles of his chest, and had to swallow back a moan. Oh yeah, I definitely wanted his hands on me.
I still had no clue what his deal was.
Will was a mystery. One minute he was flirtatious and banter-y, the next he was acting like a complete jackhole to the girl who may or may not still be his girlfriend. And then, just when I thought I’d seen enough, he went and took on the role of sweet and considerate swim coach.
Today? Well, today he was . . .
Too far away, that’s what he was.
“Good. Now let’s see you try that again,” he told me from the other end of the pool, the only place he seemed to be. “Only this time, try not sinking.” His eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Ha, ha,” I said drily. “I suppose you were born knowing how to swim.” I replayed the instructions he’d given me: Head back, chest high, hips up, legs straight.
“I was, actually.” The water rippled, but I was concentrating on what I was doing. I took a deep breath and leaned backward. “My mom says I swam before I walked.”
I laughed, and my entire body folded as I started to go under. Again. “Your mom sounds like a liar.”
Will’s voice enveloped me like a caress. “Focus on what you’re doing,” he told me. “But you’re right. She totally was.” He was closer now, no longer all the way across the pool, and knowing that made it even harder to pay attention.
Head back.
I inhaled and tried again.
Chest high.
I sank backward and let the water cradle me.
Hips up.
I tried to remember to breathe.
Legs straight.
“Now, relax.” Will’s voice was right above me, but instead of startling me, it made me feel more secure. Will was here. Even if I did sink again, he would catch me.
Not to mention the part where I was only in four feet of water—I could probably catch myself.
But that didn’t happen. I buoyed like that for several seconds . . . then a minute. I was light. Weightless.
It was amazing.
His voice held me again, like an anchor, keeping me in place. “Brown Eyes?”
“Mmm?”
“Open your eyes.”
I smiled to myself. “I thought they were.”
When I opened them, he was beaming down at me. “You did it.”
I let my shoulders collapse. The water closed in around me right before I stood up.
That was the feeling I’d been waiting for my whole life—not just the sensation of floating—really floating—but the sense of accomplishment. I couldn’t hold back my grin. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Hell, yeah, you did. We should go celebrate.”
Our celebration consisted of stale beer and quite possibly the best pizza I’d ever tasted in my entire life.
“Told ya,” Will bragged as I peeled my third piece from the silver disc. “You could go coast to coast and never have another slice like this.” We’d ordered the Supreme on the Chicago-style crust. The toppings were so thick I should probably be eating it with a fork, but it was pizza, so all decorum had flown out the window.
It was so not ladylike, and I so didn’t care.
“And you grew up with this joint? How do you not weigh a ton?” I bit into my slice and moaned. Flavor exploded across my tongue. I let the mozzarella stretch until I finally had to break it off with my finger. Will waited, watching me as if he’d baked the pizza himself. When I could finally talk again, I said. “Seriously, I might have to move away just so I don’t blow up.”
A dark look crossed his face, and I wanted it to be because I’d just said I’d have to move away. Then he picked up his own slice. “You’d be beautiful no matter what.”
Um, what was that? Maybe not what I’d been hoping for, but still . . .
“Did you just call me beautiful again?”
He scarfed down a huge bite and exaggeratedly pointed at his mouth with his index finger. His eyes were wide with an I can’t answer you expression.
“Whatever. You totally did.” Loving the way my stomach flipped. “Keep that up and a girl could get a big head.” Then I took a swig from my mug and cringed. “Okay, seriously, what’s the deal with this beer?”
He swallowed his bite, which took a second, and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Sorry. Shoulda warned you. Great pizza, but super-shitty beer.”
I wrinkled my nose. “And people are . . . okay with that?”
“It’s kinda become their thing. People come from all over because of it. You should see their Yelp reviews—the worse the beer, the better the ratings. They tried changing the formula once—getting some good local microbrews on tap—but people went ballistic. They had to go back to the shitty-beer thing.”
When my glass was empty, Will refilled it from the pitcher on the table between us. I would have waved him off since I wasn’t particularly craving seconds, but this was an entirely new Will. This Will was relaxed, and I didn’t want the evening ending any sooner than it had to.
I wanted to ask him about the girlfriend, and where they stood. But I never could get the question past my lips. “So, you’ve lived here your whole life?” I asked instead, completely chickening out.
He shrugged. “Give or take a few years. I left for a while to do some other things, but they didn’t work out, so I came back.”
“Things like what?”
“Just . . . you know, things.” He shifted, and I realized I might be losing him. This was a road he didn’t want to go down. “What about you?” he asked, switching the subject. “You’re not from here, so where then?”
I was even less comfortable. My past, especially my recent past, wasn’t an easy place for me, but I could field the simple questions, I supposed.
“Grew up in Denver and went to ASU for college.”
“Arizona, huh?” He tilted his head to the side and studied me. “So what’d you move here for? I mean, other than the great pizza and even better company.” He smiled, and it occurred to me I could get used to his cocky grins.
This was difficult territory for me. Even Emerson didn’t know the real reason I’d been in such a hurry to leave, and I told her almost everything.
“Em and I just wanted to . . . get away for a while.”
“Get away, hmm?” His green eyes narrowed. “And you just thought, Hey, there’s an ocean here, maybe I’ll learn to swim, is that what your telling me?”
I wanted to laugh, because it sounded ludicrous when he said it like that, even though that was pretty much what it boiled down to. “Look,” I told him, taking another drink of the beer, which was tasting better by the second. “Believe what you want, but what better place to learn.” I leaned back in my chair and forced myself to hold his suspicious gaze.
He was quiet for a moment, and I could see him mulling that over. He didn’t believe me, not entirely, but eventually he nodded. “Well, you could definitely do worse in the teacher department if I do say so myself.”
“And you do say so yourself. Right?” I goaded.
“Hell yeah, I do.” I should be glad he wasn’t pounding his chest like Tarzan. This was definitely Cocky Will. “You could do a whole lot worse than me.”
My eyes followed his hand. He was wearing a snug T-shirt that didn’t hide his muscled arms. Hell yeah, I could.
I reached my glass out to his. “So then, here’s to great pizza and shitty beer.”
He leaned forward too, and just as I touched my glass to his, his eyes captured mine. “And beautiful girls,” he added.