As he lifts me, I pull my underwear to the side. With no preamble, we cling to each other, words half-said, a frenzy of movement.
Over his shoulder I can see the painting.
Instead of it deterring my behavior, the shame I would expect to come over me for doing this in a chapel, a burning, feral, gaping abyss of desire opens in my chest.
Eric looks momentarily shocked by my neediness before his movements become just as jerky, his sounds just as wild.
With one hand, he turns my face so our eyes meet. “Biz… Biz? Wha…” His release leaves him shuddering as he struggles to swallow his words. “God, I love you,” he says breathlessly as he finishes after several seconds.
In a shaky voice, I say, “Forever. I will love you forever.” A prayer, a promise, and an apology.
I’m never asking Amy for that bracelet back.
Chapter Twelve
Elizabeth Housman
While I wait for Eric to finish practice, I sit poolside sketching. There’s never more than a dozen people in the field house during practice, but he’s still in the pool an hour after everyone else has left.
It’s just us now.
For the past two days, he’s been the subject of all my drawings: the face he made painting my toenails last night, his sweet, crooked smile while his dog, Scooby, sat on his chest, and now his body cutting through the water.
If he keeps up his practice schedule, I’m afraid he’ll injure himself and risk the Olympic trials, but he reassures me he knows what he’s doing. After his last meet, he’s at the top of the leaderboard for Olympic team hopefuls.
I put two fingers in my mouth and whistle at him as he pulls himself out of the water.
“I’ll just take a quick shower, okay?” he asks, toweling off as he walks past.
“Need help?” I laugh at myself.Since when have I ever behaved this way? Never, that’s when.
But he doesn’t look scandalized.
Even though the field house has a track and a gym in it, it’s late on a Friday night so we should have the locker room to ourselves.
“Elizabeth Blessing Houseman, are you propositioning me? Because if you are… this is a resounding yes.” He races the few steps to me, lifting me in one fell swoop.
I leave all my things in the stands.
Giddy, I follow behind him after he sets me back down, playfully complaining about him getting me wet.
That only makes him laugh harder at the unintended innuendo.
I lose my nerve to jump him in the locker room, but I can’t tear my eyes from his body as he takes his suit off, shaking his hair out. He abandons his towel on a bench and reaches into a shower stall to turn on the water. “Are you coming in with me?” He winks. His crooked smile, the one that highlights the dimple in his right cheek, has me almost stripping down.
The chance that we’re not alone in the building stops me.
I stay close while he pulls the plastic curtain behind him, leaving a gap that I watch him through, my hands gripping the edges of the tiled wall separating the stalls. I lean my hip against it. With my left hand, I reach for Eric. He moves closer, covered in suds.
“Just join me, Biz.” His voice is ragged. His dick growing harder.
My hand runs down his chest to stroke him; he places a hand over mine.
My arm gets wet while I fight my urge to step further into the shower. Gripping the tiled wall leading into the next shower stall, I balance myself.
Eric’s panting as he leans back against the green tile, is deliriously sexy. I make a mental note of the lines of his body, intending to draw this the first chance I get.
I’m so focused that when a hand grazes the top of my right hand, I jump.
