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When we break the surface, I realize we’re right at the side of the pool. He spins me so I’m against the wall and his arms gently cage me in. I’ve never been this close to James McCann before.
I absolutely don’t mind.
We’re both breathless. Water clings to his lashes in little spikes, his cheeks are pink with exertion—or from my foot—and I have that weird disorienting feeling that we’ve never really seen each other before tonight.
His eyes are brown and twinkly; his grin is enormous. He licks his lips, and then bites the lower one. A surge of goose bumps slithers along my skin, and it has nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
I know the moment he really notices our position because the giddy smile slips from his mouth and melts into something serious. His eyes flicker across my face and down to my mouth, and he blinks once, twice.
“Sorry,” he whispers, and I feel his breath as it mixes with mine; the heat ghosts across my lips. He moves back, and on instinct I reach for his hips.
Seconds tick by, and the water laps against the side of the pool, jostling us together and apart. Together. I look at his mouth, wondering how I never noticed the bow of his top lip, the fullness of his bottom. His boxers sink low on his hips under the weight of the water and my thumbs press against the bare skin there, able to discern bone and muscle. My nipples are hard beneath the fabric of my shirt; my lace bra is useless against the temperature of the water. If I leaned in, even an inch, would he let me kiss him? Would he want me to? Do I?
I lick away a drop of water, and his eyes follow the movement before meeting mine again. He gives me a nod—so imperceptible I’d’ve missed it if we weren’t so close, chest to chest and breathing the same air. I have a room upstairs, a bed. So does he. It would be so simple to kiss him. There are barely inches between us.
But I’ve been single so long, I’m not sure how this is done anymore. I falter. Did he really nod? Is his expression more sympathy, less sexual intent?
My heart pounds inside my ribs, and I don’t know which of us decided to move first but then he’s there, and his mouth slides over mine, once, then again. He pulls away with a tiny kiss to the corner of my mouth, and we look at each other. We’re still at the point where the kiss could be blamed on the movement of the water, maybe. Or, ha ha, such a weird, exhausting night.
But then he leans forward again with a smile, and in the space of a gasp we’re kissing like we need to: lips and tongue and the occasional dirty drag of teeth. His hands move down to my waist, holding me to him, and when he presses forward, I lift my legs, weightless, wrapping them around him.
It’s been so long, but even still I don’t think anything has felt as good as Ja—
“Don’t get her pregnant!”
We jump apart, eyes darting upward to see a few of the boys from earlier standing in one of the open windows. I tug my tank top strap back up over my shoulder. James treads water a few feet away, eyes moving from the balcony and slowly back to my face, searching. Nothing sucks more than getting busted, and the tension of the moment has been totally punctured. I’m suddenly aware of how cold the water is, how late it’s grown.
But I’m also aware of what we just did, how he felt against me, and how much I liked it.
James gives the pubescent assholes a stiff salute as if to say Thanks for the tip, you little fuckers, and I climb out of the pool, grabbing the first towel I see.
Partial transcript of interview with
Carey Duncan, July 14
Officer Ali: So you and Mr. McCann were growing close.
Carey Duncan: What makes you say that?
Officer Ali: There seems to be a lot of him in your recollection of what happened.
CD: That’s just because we were together nonstop.
Officer Ali: So only as coworkers?
CD: What is this, The Bachelor?
Officer Ali: Let me remind you that you can refuse to answer any question, at any time.
CD: I vote for that, then. I don’t want to talk about James. Whatever did or didn’t happen between us has nothing to do with what happened last night.
Officer Ali: All right.
CD: You’re writing that down?
Officer Ali: I’m taking notes, yes. But as I mentioned at the beginning, this interview will all be transcribed and kept on record.
CD: Great. Is it public record?
Officer Ali: Let’s switch gears a little. The Variety announcement. What was that for?
