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Except I can’t.
Before I reach the top, I’m propelled lower by a wave that spins me around. My nose stings from swallowing water the wrong way, and my eyes open in panic, seeing nothing but gray and the pull of black beneath it. As I begin to pray and plead to God knows who, the sudden grip on my flesh jolts me as something seizes my arm, pulling me with a strength that doesn’t seem possible.
With wilting legs, I kick in the same direction, air streaming from my nose until, after what feels like eternity, we reach the surface and I’m yanked up mercilessly.
I barely realize who it is before my arms are around his neck, holding him tightly as he treads water and I realize that he’s pulled us out of the current.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes, instantly filled with tears, lock onto his—as gray as the water beneath the surface and wild with fear.
I nod, trying not to cry from relief… and from the humiliation of needing to be rescued.
“Hold onto me,” Greyson orders.
“I can swim from here,” I respond.
“You’ll hold onto me until we get close to the shore,” he growls. “Understand?”
I nod, holding my arms around his neck as he begins to swim us towards the shore. My body shifts, coming to lie on his strong back as he swims, the kinesis of him so powerful compared to my meager efforts out there.
As we finally approach the shore, I slide off him. “I can swim from here.”
But he ignores my assertion, grabbing my wrist with his hand and pulling me as he swims the rest of the way.
I thank God as my feet hit the sand and I stand, tugging at my dishevelled bralette so that it somewhat covers my boobs and pulling up my panties as high as they’ll go as he leads me out of the water, still gripping my arm.
I pull against his grasp, but he ignores me until the foaming white no longer laps at our ankles, finally releasing me before turning around.
“Thank you,” I manage breathlessly.
“Did you hear me shout back there?”
His question and the irascible way he asks it knocks the little wind I have left out of me.
“No,” I answer, crossing my arms to cover my breasts which are covered by fabric that is clinging to them in a way that I know leaves little to the imagination.
As I peer up at him under the thick clouds above, I realize that the worry carved into his face out there has morphed into anger that I don’t know if I can deal with right now.
“You realize you could have got yourself killed!” he snarls. “Again. Didn’t you see the rip tide before you went in?!”
“Well, obviously not!” I shoot back, my body shivering from overwhelm as I search his eyes beneath lashes from which cling salt water.
Without asking, he pulls me down the beach towards our rental house by the arm. His grasp isn’t rough but firm enough to have me slip into the stream of his tall body. From just behind him, I see that he’s wearing black boxers, the type you usually wear around the house and not to swim in, and as my gaze pans up, I see something beneath the rivulets of ocean water snaking down his muscular back—scars.
A web of thick, pronounced scars on his left side.
Just as my eyes focus a little, he pivots me towards the water.
“Hey!” I shout, yanking my arm away as he gestures towards the ocean.
“See that current?!” he barks, pointing to a very clear tunnel of water being pulled back towards the ocean. “The thing was practically sign-posted. How could you miss it?!”
The accusation rankles. “I was distracted,” I mutter.
“Distracted?! Well, what a perfect fucking time to get distracted—when you’re about to go swimming in the ocean on a shitty day when no one’s around! Was that your excuse when you decided to cycle right in front of a moving car last month?”
“Stop shouting!”
