Page 21 of Giveaway

I coughed, choking on the words that didn’t want to leave my mouth.

He stepped in toward me, rubbing his hand along the side of my arm. "You can tell me. It’s okay."

I looked down at the sand. "I—I can’t swim."

I heard a seagull squawking in the distance, and then two soft fingers gently hooked under my chin. With only the slightest pressure, Cayman tipped my head up, meeting me with a compassionate look.

He blinked a few times, the sunlight catching on the tips of his eyelashes. I didn’t know why, but a part of me had been expecting to be met with ridicule. Heck, maybe even a mean comment. I guess with my dating history, my expectations had been set to so fucking low levels.

But Cayman’s response was nothing short of remarkable.

First, he offered a warm smile that instantly settled the rolling waves of panic within my chest.

Next, he asked in a calm, soothing voice, "Do you trust me?"

Trust.

I had such a love-hate relationship with that word. Mainly hate, in all honesty. I’d been screwed over, lied to, stood up, taken advantage of so many times before.

But as Cayman stood in front of me, gently cupping my face, I knew on some deeper level that he was different, and that I could give him my trust.

Not only had his words and actions shown me who he was, the way my skin tingled whenever I was around him gave me the last bit of confirmation I needed.

I was listening to my gut, and it was telling me one thing loud and clear—Go. For. It.

I swallowed around the lump that had formed in my throat. "I do trust you, Cayman."

A jittery breath rushed out of him, before his lips settled on mine. I could almost taste his relief, his gratitude, as our tongues tangled for a moment before he pulled away.

"This is what we’re going to do, but just know that at all times, you’re in control, okay?"

I nodded, my brain still slightly incapacitated as I listened to his plan. We would only go into the water to waist-level. He asked if I was okay with that, and I said I was fine. I was used to walking around the shallow end of pools.

It’s not that I was afraid of water. I just didn’t like it getting anywhere near my shoulders because if worse came to worst, I wouldn't be able to swim my way out of it.

So we’d only go in as far as I felt comfortable. Then I would put on the snorkel, and he would hold me while I floated and snorkeled...in place and without moving.

"It’s not going to"—I looked around the beach as more people started to come down from the resort—"I don’t know, look kinda stupid?"

"I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks, Mitchell." The conviction in his voice struck me. "I want you to experience this. That’s all I care about."

He handed me a wetsuit, and I took off my shirt and slipped it on over my board shorts.

"All right." I sucked in the air between my teeth. "Let’s do this."

Cayman held out his hand, and together, we ventured into the warm water until we were in up to our waists.

"Are you okay?" His blue eyes roamed my face.

"I am."

It was true—I was. His presence settled my nerves. Also, I kept reminding myself that even if I was knocked over by a wave, the water was shallow enough that I'd be able to stand on my own two feet.

And if I did fall or stumble, I knew that Cayman would be there to catch me.

He handed me a snorkel mask. "Here, put this on."

I wrapped it around the back of my head and placed the mouthpiece into my mouth.

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