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"Do you need me to walk you home? Should I get Grace —"
"No." Zorah held up a palm. "I'm fine, thank you. Just need some air." She pushed herself away from the table, her knees wobbling like jelly.
"I'll go with you." Rue looped a proprietary arm through Zorah's trembling one. "C'mon." She guided a stunned Zorah through the mess hall, whispering, "Let's get your stuff moved into my tent."
CHAPTER 15
Jake
Something was off. He felt it like a physical presence, a barrier that had been erected sometime between their last lesson and tonight. He couldn't explain it, but it chafed against him all the same, taunting him with the absence of the careful rapport they'd worked so hard to establish throughout their lessons. He hadn't known how much the dynamic between them had evolved, until it changed again. And not for the better.
Zorah's body glided through the water, arms and head and legs moving in an easy, natural rhythm. She'd taken to the lessons like, well, a fish to water, and he couldn't help but be a little bit proud. At the same time, a fat stripe of guilt harangued him. They could likely cease the lessons after tonight. She floated, treaded water, and did the forward crawl well enough to keep herself safe. He'd pondered teaching her the backstroke or even using the rickety platform for diving, not yet willing to admit that, even if being around her pained him, he'd rather not end it.
But all that took an immediate backseat to whatever was going on with her tonight.
At the end of her lap, she emerged where he waited, treading water with one hand gripping the edges of the floating dock. Surfacing and wiping her hair from her face, she panted, only slightly out of breath.
"That was good," he said, examining her face in the meager light. The full moon had passed two days prior, but clouds had since rolled in, obscuring its bright, gibbous glow. "How do you feel?"
A hardness settled around her eyes. "About what?"
No attitude or petulance accompanied her question but more of a world-weary fatigue that deepened his concern.
"I was asking about that last lap." He cleared his throat. "Unless... uh... there's something else that's bothering you?"
"Fine." Her lips flattened to a thin line. Anxiety stretched over every delicate freckle. "The lap felt fine."
A sigh hissed from his nose, and they lapsed into uncomfortable silence. Water splish-splashed against the post, and an owl hooted in the distance, night sounds providing a mocking musical accompaniment to his emotional incompetence. He was fucking this up.
Jake racked his brain. When had things been easier? The splash fight had been fun. How could they get back to that?
"Hey," he ventured, gratified when her eyes dragged to his, "d'you want to play a game?"
Her chin lifted with tentative interest. "What kind of game?"
"Marco Polo," he said lightly. He kept his face pleasantly casual, not wanting to overplay something she perhaps didn't even realize about herself: Zorah had a competitive streak. "It's like hide and seek, only in the water. I close my eyes and say 'Marco,' and then you have to say 'Polo,' and then I have to try to find you by your voice alone."
"But it's dark," she said, suspicious. "I can't tell if you're cheating."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Areyougoing to cheat?"
"No!" Her affront was apparent.
Jake suppressed a satisfied smirk. "Then I won't either. You ready?"
Some of the tightness eased from her lips as her head bobbed. "Are your eyes closed?"
"Not yet. One more thing." He treaded a few inches closer. "If you get into trouble, get tired or whatever, game's off, and you yell for help. Got it?"
With a wicked grin, she launched off the post with a confident kick. "Yeah, I'm ready."
Pleasure fizzing in his chest, Jake closed his eyes and listened to the night sounds, trying not to track her strokes through the water too closely. With his enhanced Alpha hearing and his faster swimming, he could probably catch her with little effort, but where was the fun in that? The point was to take her mind off whatever vexed her, not to frustrate her with obnoxious Alpha showboating.
Separating from the dock, Jake rolled to his back, kicking lazily to stay afloat. "Marco."
A giggle coming from his left preceded her answer. "Polo," she called, followed by a blooping splash as she dipped under water.
Jake grinned. His girl understood the game just fine.
