Certainly, I never looked anything like the young swimmer in front of me.
It was taking all my focus not to rake my eyes over his body.Not even in a sexual way - though I’d be lying if I claimed not to have recognized he was absolutely gorgeous - but more the same way that you find yourself marveling at a beautiful work of art, or a sublime classic car.Appreciative awe, more than everyday lechery.
Hurriedly I took a gulp of wine, with the hope of distracting myself.A faint hope, sure, but the alcohol helped a little.
As I watched, Kai stepped up to the edge of the pool.Paused, in a way that seemed perfectly designed to let the soft, warm glow of the patio lights coax even more shapely grooves and bulges out from his muscled torso, then toppled forward in a casual but still well-executed dive.A demure splash the only evidence of his entry.
He emerged from beneath the water on the opposite side, long moments later, sporting a gleeful expression.
“Holy crap, this feels so good!”
I had to laugh at his exuberance.Watched as he shook his head, sending a shower of droplets flying before raking fingers through his unruly hair.Then he was pushing off, body knifing with barely-restrained urgency as he broke through the wavelets to the other side.
A happy head, bobbing at the edge closest to me.Arms folded - biceps bulging with casual profligacy - on the wooden slats.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
The thought of taking off my shirt and having my body compared to Kai’s was...well, mortifying was the best word I could come up with at short notice.
I wasn’t overweight.Had even lost some of the “comfort padding” that long-term relationships can introduce to your midriff.Mainly because, when left to my own devices, I just ate less, more than from any active attempt to be healthy.No, the reality was that I was just painfully average, and only going to look more pedestrian when next to someone like him.
“I might just finish up this, y’know,” I replied eventually, holding up the glass.
Kai frowned.“I feel like I’ve screwed up your routine.”
I shook my head, trying to look casual and relaxed and probably appearing like neither.
“Or is it the suit?”he continued.“I can totally put the shorts on, it’s fine.”
I shook my head.“The suit is great.”Shit, no, that’s not what I meant to say.“I mean,” I stammered, “the suit is fine.I don’t have a problem with it, it’s fine.”
Kai stared at me, skeptically.
When I’m uncomfortable I can’t handle a conversation vacuum.I just have to fill it.“You haven’t screwed up my schedule or anything, I promise.I’m going to get into the pool.”
He waited.Neither of us moved.
“Tate,” Kai observed, “you’re not getting in the pool.”
I blinked.Then blinked again.
“No, right, totally,” I said eventually, inwardly wincing at how ridiculous I knew I must sound.Set down the half-empty glass on the table, then picked it up again and took another gulp.Set it back down.
He was still watching me, leaning over the edge of the decking with a lack of self-consciousness that was as equally alluring as it was impossible for me to imagine ever feeling myself.Staring with, if not outright curiosity, then a sense of what I could only read as bemusement.
I already had the running shorts on, thankfully, but it took a deep breath - sucked in with careful discretion - before I could bring myself to tug up the hem of my t-shirt and pull it over my head.Steeled for the chuckle I knew, rationally, Kai would be too polite to give, but felt I heard in my paranoia anyway.
Then it was a case of getting into the pool as rapidly as possible, but not so hastily as to make it look like I was rushing.Whether I struck that questionable balance, I was too preoccupied to assess.
The cool water felt like a slap.Enough to derail my racing thoughts so that, for a moment at least, it was only my body in its clenched tightness and the embrace of the liquid that registered in the world.
A short-lived distraction.Though, when I opened my eyes, I found Kai had gone back to his casual gliding from one side to the other.Each short lap completed with the minimum of effort, the water hardly churning as he pushed off with his legs, crawled the last of the distance, and then neatly flipped to position himself for the return.
It was hypnotic to watch, and so I did.Bobbed in place as I admired the way his muscles flexed, torso and arms twisting, a blur of smooth flesh punctuated by that scrap of black stretched across his hips.
“You’re good,” I said, honestly, when he paused again.Caught on one elbow raised onto the decking, his other hand wiping across his face.The width of the pool separating us.
A scowl, though only brief.“Nowhere near what I used to be, though.I used to compete in swim meets.Now all the muscle memory is gone.”
