Page 24 of Collide

“Oh, I know,” Jared says, nodding. “I meant Cash.”

My mouth should pop open in surprise as I had the impression Cash didn’t mention me. Instead, I roll my lips.

“He didn’t say much, and only Gage and I knew. He was into you as much as he could be into anyone other than himself.”

Cash was self-centered, but I didn’t consider it much. Such was the business, and most creative beings, but I quickly learned his self-absorption was deeper than I could see.

“I appreciate the thought although I’m not convinced it’s true. We had a fling. Stupid and senseless on my part, and then…” He died. I don’t say the words. Depression was his killer. “I’m not going to pretend I knew him better than you guys because I didn’t. We weren’t like that. Emotional, feelings, sharing. We had sex at a few parties.” I’m painting a horrible picture of myself, but I want to be clear that I’m not pining over a dead man I didn’t know or romanticizing him into someone he wasn’t to me. “I don’t like to say it didn’t mean anything, but it didn’t mean anything.” I wasn’t in the right headspace any more than Cash was, and when he intercepted me on my way to Gage, I fell under his charm. His laughter lifted my spirit and lightened the load I bore. He sweet-talked, and teased, and the next thing I knew, I was in a dark alley against a brick wall, doing almost the same thing I’d done with Gage.

Almost, I say because he wasn’t bare, and it wasn’t raw need, but more like filling a black hole in my heart. Gage was fireworks. Cash was just fire. I burned hot for Cash, but I didn’t yearn for him like I’m feeling lately for Gage.

As if he knows I’m thinking of him, Gage pops up next to me, all sexy wet with his hair slicked back and droplets dripping from his long lashes.

“Hey,” he croaks, turning his attention from Jared to me. “You two coming?”

“Right behind you,” I say, and Gage smiles for the first time all day. He dips back under the water, and I follow near the surface.

The view is breathtaking, both of the ocean life and the man swimming down below. His hair, along with Petty’s, flows loose and wild in the waves, and the two remind me of mermen. I can imagine women throwing themselves overboard if they saw these two. Along with Gage’s voice, any woman would fall for the siren call. Petty waves, and just as I smile, Gage aims his camera at me. I try not to chuckle with the snorkel, or I’ll choke. I wave back at them.

Thoughts of my mother, and being a kid, drift in and out as we swim for a while, taking in the sights, pointing at one another to notice something, and that’s when I see it. A nurse shark drifts near the ocean floor. Panic sets in again, and I wonder if this has something to do with motherhood. I’ve never been frightened of anything, but I’m slowing developing fears I’ve never had. And the thought of a shark attacking me, attacking my baby, has me pressing up for the surface with growing anxiety.

Isn’t this position how Jaws came for the girl?

My heart races as I break the surface, freaking out about my feet dangling under the water. When something pops up behind me, I scream into the snorkel as I turn to face it.

“Gage,” I yell in his face after removing the mouthpiece. He laughs as he swipes the water from his chin. He pops the snorkel from his mouth.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Taking a deep breath, I exhale, wanting to reach for him. Irrationally wanting to wrap myself around him and beg him to keep me safe, but I can take care of myself, I lie.

“Did you see it?” I gasp.

His lower lip juts forward. “See what?”

“The shark.” My voice is two octaves too high.

“Really?” He peers downward, putting his mask-covered face in the water. He pops his head back up. “I’ve got to get a picture.” He pauses and then tips his head. His eyes are distorted behind the mask, and he lifts it up to his forehead. He swims closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me against him. “Are you frightened?”

“I’m…I’m freaked out,” I admit. I chuckle, but there’s no comfort in my laughter.

“I’ll never let anything hurt you. Ever. Do you understand?”

I nod slowly, unable to look at him, distracted by the feel of his naked chest against my swollen breasts hardly contained in my bathing suit. The swell of my belly against his lower abs is a reminder of all the reasons we can’t be together, but as my leg accidentally brushes his hip and then wraps around it, I forget myself for a second. His hand smooths up my spine.

“Hey, look at me,” he softly commands, and I do. “Nothing. Ever. I promise.”

I wish I could believe him. I wish I could take those words and wrap them around myself and my baby, tucking us both into a cocoon, tucking us both into the security of him. But it’s a silly thought, so I give a weak smile back and then press off his shoulders. His eyes narrow, and the edginess of his jaw clenches again.

“One picture. I’ll be right back.” He secures his mouthpiece, tugs down the mask, and sinks below the surface. As soon as he’s gone, I turn for the boat, swimming as fast as I can.

It’s not that I don’t trust Gage.

I don’t trust myself.

I can’t fall for him. Falling for him would be bad. And wrong. And perfect. But bad.

I stroke harder, faster, feeling angry with myself at the immediate loss of energy until I hear splashing behind me. My thoughts return to Jaws, and sharks, and something is coming for me from deep in the water. I’ve almost reached the ladder when something grabs my ankles, and I scream into the mouthpiece again. This causes me to choke on my own air. A full panic attack fills my chest, and I continue to kick out at what’s behind me. I flip in the water and narrowly miss a wet, blond head of hair with my heel.