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He playfully smacks my shoulder. “Don’t laugh, Daddy. And, while we’re on the subject, I think I’m going to make a no pants rule for you, too.”

“So you make the rules now?” I shift my weight back slightly, pressing my back into him. He is slender, sure, but my mate is strong.

Rather than answering my question, he kisses the side of my neck. “I got us breakfast,” he mumbles against my skin. “It’s from the dining hall, but the bagels and smoked salmon looked good this morning.”

“Getting us breakfast is my job,” I grumble, even as warmth fills my chest.

“I wanted to. Even though nothing in the world feels as good as you taking care of me, sometimes I’m going to do things for you. I’m going to take care of you too, Javi.”

I swallow around the tightness in my throat. “How am I so lucky,” I whisper, my voice low and wrecked.

“We are lucky, Daddy.” With a playful nip at my skin, Aleks pulls me back by the hips, clumsily guiding me out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. “Now eat, and then we’re going to do some stretching on the porch. We have a medal to win.”

There is no way in hell this will work.

I tug at the loose-fitting white blouse Cora found at a clothing boutique in a nearby town. Paired with wide brown pants like something a yoga teacher would wear, I have never felt more ridiculous in my life.

It was Cora’s idea to weave siren mythology into our performance. According to her, having me play the part of a fallen, drowning pirate will only add to the romance and drama of the piece. Aleks is without any makeup, any adornment beyond the green of his scales and fins, pale and luminescent.

The thing is, even though self-consciousness tugs at me, it is nothing compared to the looming dread making it harder and harder to breathe. This is Aleks’ moment, and somehow he has convinced himself that bringing me, an inexperienced human man with a body more suited for cuddles and power lifting than a graceful sport like artistic swimming into his routine, is his best shot at winning.

We practiced all day yesterday. Cora was in the water with us, making suggestions and recommendations. She is an amazing swimmer, with an eye for composition I admire. It would not surprise me in the least if she becomes a coach someday.

Everything feels perfect and right when I am in the water with Aleks. That is not the problem.

As his coach, I have been able to help him, to take care of the man who means more to me than anyone else in the world. Being of service to him, standing by him while he achieves his dreams, is all I have ever wanted.

It is my job to take care of him, and the thought of letting him down has my breakfast threatening to come back up again.

“Javier.”

I close my eyes and heave a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

I should lie. I should reassure him, because he needs to be focused, he needs to be at his best before he goes out there, but I cannot bring myself to lie. Not now, when he is looking at me with concern and care written clearly across his face.

“I do not want to ruin this for you,” I say, rubbing my hand across my beard. “You have worked so hard for this, Aleks, and now you are stuck with me and I—”

Aleks’ hands are on my face, fingers splayed across my cheeks as he brings his forehead down to press against mine. “Javier,” he says, his voice hoarse, before there is a rush across our bond, an unstoppable current of: mate and yours and we are beautiful together, don’t you feel it and in all of my years in the water it has never felt the way it does when I swim with you.

I close my eyes, sinking into the comfort of him. “I am nervous,” I admit.

Aleks’ lips brush over each of my eyelids. It is such a sweet, gentle gesture. Funny how so much of my role in my relationships has been to be a provider, and now here I am in the hands of a man who gives me so much in return.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Aleks says, “But with you in the water with me, I feel invincible. Swimming has never been as easy as it is with you.”

Opening my eyes, I meet his pale gaze. He is frowning, and I reach up, smoothing the wrinkle between his brows. “I wish I could give you everything,” I say.

“You already do, you big, silly man.”

I scoff, indignant. “Big silly man?”

He laughs, his whole face alight with relaxed, unencumbered joy.

Fingers brush through my hair and he says: “We’ve got this. The first time we danced together it was magic. Now, we get to do it again.”

A part of me wants to protest, but an even louder voice, one that comes from the full warmth residing beside my heart, believes him.