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Jake drags me out of the water none too gently. The weight of my clothes soaked straight through makes it impossible to take a single step. It’s like walking in quicksand. Seeing that he’s practically naked, he doesn’t have this problem.
Tired beyond measure, I collapse on the sand of the shoreline coughing and spitting up water while he stands over me with his hands on his hips. Looking up, I’m faced with his cold anger, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each labored breath he takes.
“Well that was fucking stupid. We need to get you inside before you go hypothermic.”
He offers me his hand and I offer mine back. He mutters something and squats, hooks his arms under my pits and lifts me. As soon as he does, I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life. Seems like I’ve been doing a lot of that with Jake lately.
Teeth chattering, I bury my face in the slope of his shoulder and dig in, desperate to get warm. I’m so cold my lips are turning numb. Every attempt to speaks produces nothing other than gibberish.
“Don’t talk….we can talk later.” He pats my back and begins climbing the hill back up to the cottages.
An eternity passes before we cross the threshold of his cottage and head for the bathroom. He carries me inside and sets me on my feet. Then he turns on the shower at full blast.
“Jake…”
“Just…wait.”
Hot steam fills the room in minutes. It gets into my lungs and thaws them, soothes the burning pain. My body shaking violently, I lean on Jake. It’s become common practice anyway. His is the only solid, steady strength I can count on these days. Which probably doesn’t bode well for me in the long run. I tuck the thought away to examine later.
When the shower hits the right temperature, he takes my arm and drags me inside the shower with him. Three years ago my father upgraded all the bathrooms to have large standing showers with massage shower heads and wall jets. Thank God for small favors. Otherwise both of us couldn’t have fit in it now.
Jake sinks to the floor and I follow. He wraps his arms around me, and I lean back against his chest, cradled between his legs. Then he holds me until I stop shaking. Until the cold in my bones and in my heart gives way to other feelings.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry. C’mon, babe.”
Babe?
“…I didn’t mean to yell at you…you know I don’t mean it…” he murmurs in my ear, sneaking a kiss in here and there that makes me shiver for all the right reason. “I mean…it was stupid––running into the water like that. Don’t get me wrong. What I mean is…”
He really cannot handle feminine tears. I should tell him that I cry when I’m angry…and sad…and happy. But maybe I’ll let him hold me a little longer before I do.
“Get in,” he says, standing before me in a pair of black boxer briefs.
His body is a stunning work of art, a perfect balance of muscle and bone, now that I get to see it in its full glory. Too bad I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open to truly enjoy it.
After Jake washed my hair and rinsed it, he left the bathroom to fetch me a pair of his boxer and a t-shirt while I peeled the wet clothes off. If he’s not careful, there’s a very good chance I may fall in love with him.
“I’m sleeping here?” I ask, more than a little timidly because God forbid I misunderstood. I’m so twisted and tired I’m capable of all sorts of screw-ups right now.
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
That seems to end the debate. I slide beneath his cool sheets, and he goes to the kitchen to fetch me a bottle of water.
He turns the lamp off, and the room is plunged in darkness with only a dim light coming through the window. He slips into bed next to me, and without hesitation wraps me in his arms, pulling me against him. It’s all I can do not to sigh.
“Thank you for rescuing me again. That’s all you seem to be doing lately.” Shame makes my cheeks hot.
“Stop apologizing.” He takes my hand and places it on his chest. His skin is burning hot under my palm, the fine hair on his chest soft.
“What was all that about? She’s your mother, Carrie.”
“My mother left us when I was ten.”
“Whatever she did to Gene, it’s their business.”
The anger boils up again. “The summer I turned nine she got into the habit of taking me to see a movie a few times a week. I wasn’t in summer camp yet and Jackie was so she couldn’t babysit. I thought it was great. I got to sit in a dark theater and eat candy. Soon enough we ran out of movies locally, so we had to travel farther and farther to larger movie theaters. She would leave me there and come to pick me up at the end.
