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"Hey." He says tentatively.
"Hey." She says back with a wide smile. She couldn't help it. His face just makes her smile. Her eyes track a droplet of water as it makes its way down his lip, over his chin, and down the column of his sexy neck. Necks can be sexy, right? By the time her eyes make it back to his face, his frown has transformed into a cocky grin. Yeah, yeah, whatever, I was checking you out, so what?
He traces the length of her legs up, and his smile broadens. Eyes flashing with desire as he bites his lip suggestively. This guy can totally see up her dress. She shakes her head, but doesn’t take a step back. Let him look.
"I brought your lunch." She says lamely.
"Great, I'm starving.” His voice was laced with innuendo. Using his arms to pull himself out of the pool, his dripping body almost flush with hers, forcing her to take a step back.
"Wow, " she says breathily. He stands before her at his full height, water cascading over his muscular torso and down to his legs, which were unfortunately covered by long jammers.
"Oh man,” she teases, snapping her fingers. “I was hoping to catch you in your speedos." She smiles up at him.
"I have them in my bag. I can totally go put them on and give you a show, " he teases, his dimples coming out to play. She grabs his arm, pulling him towards the bleachers.
"Come on, you big caveman, put on a shirt, and let's eat before your mom kills me for starving her baby."
Grabbing his duffle bag from the floor nearby, he pulls out a towel and a shirt. She starts pulling out the sandwiches from the bag, laying everything out on the bleachers. Nash makes his way over to sit, sans shirt, to her delight.
"Here, " he says, pulling her towards him by the waist. She goes to him, fitting perfectly in his arms. I owe you a shirt, " he whispers in her ear, giving her the shirt he was holding, the sameUCLA shirt he had been wearing at the airport.
"You really didn't have to, " she says half-heartedly, clutching the shirt to her chest. She would physically fight anyone who tried to take it. When he doesn't immediately let her go, she looks up at him, his mouth excruciatingly close to hers and his gaze dark and needy.She can feel his breath on her skin, and she subconsciously licks her lips in anticipation.
Does she want him to kiss her? YES. No, she shouldn't. Think about the lines, Melody. This is not on the right side of the line!
She takes a step back from him, letting her breath out in a sigh. Nash just gives her a nod and makes his way to the food. She fiddles with his shirt, trying to compose herself. It smells like him. Handling the fabric reverently, she puts his shirt in her bag.
Melody picks a seat next to him on the bench, not comfortable with the silence, she starts the conversation.
"So, question. Why Nash? Why did you choose that name to give me at the airport?" This question has been burning through her since she found out he and Graham were one and the same.
He chuckles. "Aside from wanting to keep you to myself a little longer. Believe it or not, my friends, or I guess, my teammates, really do call me Nash."
"Why, though?" She was genuinely interested in the why. It really doesn't make any sense. Graham and Nash are just too different.
“Well, they call me Nash, because I'm from Nashville, we have another teammate that we call Tex." He says with fondness. "Bet you can't guess where he is from?" He takes a giant bite of his sandwich, half disappearing within seconds.
Geez, even watching the man eat a sandwich gets her all worked up. The muscles of his jaw working and his tongue coming out to lick crumbs off the side of his mouth. “We are athletes, not creative geniuses.”
"Teammates.” She muses. “You are a jock! I knew it."
"Sort of." His smile dimmed a little at that. She wanted to ask what brought the sudden change, to chase away his sadness. However, he continued before she could interject. Maybe letting it go was the best course of action. They really didn't know each other all that well. "I actually got an academic scholarship."
"Oh my God, Graham! Nash! Whatever, that is amazing.” She jumps up, embracing him abruptly, nearly knocking him over. “You were always such a big nerd! I am so, so, proud of you."
She beams up at him, taking back her seated position. She just knew he would do wonderful things with his life. He was the absolute most intelligent person she had ever met. Even at 13, he knew algebraic equations like the back of his hand and would watch science videos. For FUN. Like a total nerd.
“I want to know everything! How did you end up in California? You’re on the swim team, right? How did that happen?”
Nash
_________________________
She sits at the edge of the bench, her entire body facing his, her face split in a genuine smile. She was proud of him, but he wasn't sure if she was proud of Graham, the little boy she knew before, or Nash, the man sitting in front of her. He knows it must be difficult for her to try to make sense of her feelings when a few days ago Nash and Graham were two completely different people. He moves closer to her on the bench. His hand lightly skimmed her arm.
"If it makes it easier for you, Melody. I don't have to be Graham. I can just be Nash."
His eyes bear down on her, begging her. That beautiful face of hers is looking up at him, really looking at him this time. He can feel her eyes traveling over his face, landing on his mouth. She moves her assessment lower, giving his torso a good once over while she was there. He can see her brain trying to make a decision, weighing her options. She wants to give in. He can tell. She just needs a little nudge in the right direction. He needs to remind her how good he can make her feel. If that physical attraction was all he had right now, he was going to use it.
