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“On your mark, get set, GO!” Oliver cries as we launch ourselves forward. Despite my getting off to a good start, in a flash Oliver has caught up to me, and by the turn of the first lap, he has pulled ahead.
Bollocks! I think to myself, still in Bridgerton mode. Must catch him.
As Oliver whizzes by me, I put in one last effort, closing the gap until I am almost alongside him, and OOF!
I go under as I become a victim of a kick straight to the chest.
“Son of a bitch,” I gasp as I resurface, sucking in some air.
“Lilly!” Oliver calls out, looking frantic, grabbing me and wrapping my legs around his waist, holding all my weight.
“Ouch,” I moan, resting my head on his chest in a pathetic gesture.
Oliver, still looking panicked, swims us both to the shallow end and places me with care on the edge of the pool before hoisting himself out. When he goes to pick me up and carry me to the adjacent sun lounges, I snap out of my daze.
“Ollie. I’m fine,” I wheeze.
He doesn’t seem to hear me, his face pinched with worry, as he lifts me into his arms and deposits me into a chair.
“Lilly, do you need a doctor? Should I go in and wake up Amy? Are you OK?” Oliver looks at me, a worried expression marring his handsome face.
“I’m OK,” I gasp, trying with a small amount of desperation to find the wind that was knocked out of my lungs. “It’s fine, Ollie, give me a minute to catch my breath.” When I look up, Oliver is staring at my chest again, and as I follow his gaze, I see a big, angry red mark where he kicked me.
“It was an accident, Ol,” I say when he continues to stare at it. “I will be fine.”
Oliver shakes his head as he gets up to pace back and forth.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wake Amy? What if I’ve fractured one of your ribs? Or worse?” He looks so concerned that I grab his hand.
“It is just a bruise. I am OK. See? I am breathing fine now. No permanent damage done.”
Oliver crouches in front of me and rests his forehead on mine. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “Are you sure? I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to you.”
As I sit there, I remember how Oliver has always been like this, so concerned for my well-being and, without thought, I begin to stroke the back of his head to comfort him.
“I’m sure,” I whisper. Oliver opens his eyes and is about to say something when the sounds of “Bad Habits” by Ed Sheeran blare from somewhere nearby. My ringtone. My phone, now my nemesis. What bad timing. Oliver jumps up, grabs my phone, and hands it to me before walking away to grab us some towels and giving me some much-needed space.
“Hello?” I answer. It is my mechanic.
“Turns out Frankie is going to make it,” I tell Oliver when I hang up the phone. “In fact, she is ready to be picked up now.” Oliver glances at me and looks away again as I towel off and wring out my hair.
“That’s good news,” he is slow to answer. “Do you want me to drive you there to pick her up?”
“No, I will grab an Uber. Easier for everyone,” I add when he looks like he is going to argue.
As I go to leave, I turn and thank Oliver again for all his help over the last twenty-four hours.
“No worries, Lil,” he tells me. “Oh, and you may want to put on some more clothes before leaving,” he reminds me as I make to leave through the side gate, forgetting my state of undress. “Wouldn’t want to be giving any innocent mechanics a heart attack on this fine afternoon.”
I laugh at what I think is a joke, though Oliver does not appear to be amused, and head through the sliding back door, towards Amy’s room.
“Sorry again for hurting you.” Oliver’s voice stops me.
“It’s really OK,” I tell him.
It is a small price to pay for an afternoon spent with Oliver, I think to myself as I leave him behind.
CHAPTER 6
