“Your return to streamline is fantastic, and your stroke rate is crazy, but your flip turn could use a little refining,” she tells me as she flips through a few more pictures, and I’m struck momentarily stupid as she throws words at me that I didn’t know she knew and see the proof of what she’s saying right there before my eyes.
She flips through a few more pictures, each with more examples of what I’m doing well and where I can improve on my backstroke. It takes me far too long to put the pieces together.
Jordan.
Her brother used to swim, and she clearly had supported him fiercely in that. I can see it in her eyes, a passion that shouldn’t be there but is because she loved him.
Nobody has ever shown up for me like that, and while my chest aches with longing, I push that feeling aside. I don’t deserve a pity party, not when I’m only here because I was told to be, being a good little bitch for my father.
Her cheeks are flushed when she finally finishes going through the pictures, and when her gaze meets mine, I see the uncertainty, and I get the feeling her cheeks aren’t just pink from the warm temperature of the room.
“Sorry, I—um…” she mumbles, quickly averting her eyes as she pushes to stand. “I should go.”
I should let her. She told me a few ways to improve, ways I’m pretty sure will cut the seconds I need off my overall time. I’m closer to her now. I can just tell Father she’s with Julian or maybe that she likes girls—anything really. Yeah, he’ll be upset, but what does he want me to do? Find a witch to spell her to be mine?
Shit, why does that actually sound like something he would do, regardless of the fact that using magic on a mortal is a punishable offense?
No, I should let her go, but I can’t.
She’s nearly standing when I reach out, my fingers wrapping around her very small wrist to pull her back down beside me. She seems confused but doesn’t question me, instead waiting patiently for me to elaborate on what I’m doing.
It’s more trust than I deserve, especially when you consider who one of my best friends is.
Maybe if she knew who my father is, she would run. Deep down, I know she wouldn’t, though, and when I look into her eyes, I see the truth.
She’s too good for me, for all of us.
“Would you like to stay?” I force the words out, knowing I’m signing up for my own downfall, but unable to stop myself.
Her eyes go so wide they look comical, and I have to bite back a laugh.
“You could take a few more shots, maybe see if you have any more pointers in that superhuman brain of yours?” I reach out and tap her forehead with my finger, and this time I can’tstop the smile that pulls at my lips when she goes cross-eyed following the motion.
“Okay!” She refocuses on my face, and I let my hand fall. The smile on her lips transforms her. It’s no wonder Julian steals her every chance he can get. I might not be able to give up a day of swimming to study, but I might have just found something even better.
This time, when I dive back into the water, I have to fight against my shift for a wholly different reason. The urge to shift and show off riding me hard.
Mortal!
I scold myself, hoping to get it through my thick skull and failing.
Whatever.
I focus back on my swimming and try not to focus on the fact that the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met is currently snapping photos of me in hopes of critiquing me for my asshole father to have the best swimmer.
The same one who wants me to seduce her.
Yeah, that’s sobering.
She gets great pictures and once again gives solid advice. I want to be annoyed; if she were anyone else, I might be, but there’s not even a hint of know-it-all sass in her tone when we go over my corrections.
Wren just wants to help.
“You should swim. You clearly know enough about it,” I tell her as I climb out of the pool, splashing water everywhere as Imove to grab my towel. I toss the towel on my head and scrub my hair so it won’t continue dripping everywhere, and when I pull it away, I find Wren standing exactly where I left her, eyes wide and brows raised as she looks me over.
I could cover up, or even turn and head to the locker room, but I can’t bring myself to do it, and at least to myself, I can admit I enjoy having her attention so completely.
Something about it is different; she isn’t just some girl trying to sleep with me to brag or in hopes to get me to ‘settle down.’ I’m not a conquest; hell, I’m not even sure she actually wants to sleep with me, but if she did…
