Nathan Read online

  She only smiled in response, but then rubbed at her bicep. In an effort to go fast, she must have been straining her muscles. Was she not used to it?

  “You should do some weight training.” It was hard to talk to her when she wasn't able to respond back so well. He shouldn't be making her try to talk so much with her voice broken at the moment, but he couldn't help it. She was so easy to talk to. He walked over until he was closer to her, and then slid into the water so he could stand next to her at the edge. “Are you going to join the swim team?”

  Her cheeks turned red, and she shook her head. “I'm not much of a competitor.”

  What? He didn't believe it. She was daring! She could do it if she wanted. “You're shitting me.”

  She kind of laughed. “I don't mind a short race.”

  He blinked a few times, trying to figure her out. “Should we race?” he asked.

  “I'll try,” she whispered.

  She wasn't afraid of competition. Maybe she just wasn't interested in it on a formal level. “Should we bet on the outcome?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “You'll win.”

  True, but what fun was a race without her trying to put some effort in? Maybe he'd slow down so she wouldn’t feel so bad. He didn’t want to fake it either. “You don’t know that. You’re pretty quick. You’re smaller than me, too. You could probably move through the water faster than I could.”

  She seemed to consider this. “What do you want?”

  He tried to hide a smile. He didn’t want to say the first thing that came to his mind...a date. He shouldn’t say that, but he wasn’t sure what else to ask for. “If you win, what would you want?”

  She raised an eyebrow slowly, suspicious. “I want to know the secret to getting into the back woods.”

  That's it? His ability to hide his smile disappeared and he grinned. “I was going to show you that anyway.” He hadn't forgotten, he just didn't want her going back there alone, especially if her voice box wasn't working. And because he wanted to go with her.

  She made a face, sticking her tongue out a little. Cute. After that, she seemed puzzled. She pointed a hesitant finger at the shirt she was wearing. “This?” she asked, although from her tone, she seemed unsure.

  Seemed she didn't know what to ask either. He nodded anyway. If she wanted the shirt, she could keep it. She could keep it even if she didn't win. If she liked it. It was a little big on her but what did he know about what girls liked?

  “If I win...” He paused. Her face spoke to him without her saying anything. Anxious perhaps? Worried he'd ask something odd? What would be too much? It wasn't like he could ask to keep her shirt. “If I win, you promise that if we end up with a class together, you'll sit next to me.” It was as low key a request he could come up with at the moment, and something that worried him.

  What if she was nice to him, but didn't like him? Not in the way he was hoping?

  Again, her brows lifted, unsure. “That's it?” she asked, her voice cracking again.

  It seemed to crack more when she was excited or nervous.

  “Hey, if I'm going to cheat off of someone, I'd like a willing participant.” He wasn't serious, but with the way she looked, he hoped she'd relax at the joke.

  Her mouth opened and her hand moved up, her fingers touching at her throat. “Nathan?”

  Oh no, she believed him. Maybe he should stop making jokes. “I'm kidding. I don't cheat.”

  She grinned and seemed to relax. “I do,” she said. She readied herself, feet bracing the edge of the pool. She was ready to go.

  He stayed still, amused she thought a head start would help. “Really?”

  Before he could move, she shot off across the water.

  He reacted quickly once she was in, doing the same thing by giving himself a boost off the wall. She did cheat! No countdown? Now he wasn't going to let her have it easy.

  He zoomed through the water, and within a few strokes and some leg kicks, he was right behind her.

  And in a wicked moment of again what he thought to be insanity, he had a hand around her ankle and pulled her back.

  The effort made him a little winded, so he rose to the surface and did breaststrokes to the other side of the pool.

  She broke the surface midway across the pool, popping up out of the water, but she was laughing. “Cheat!” she gasped.

  “You can't cheat if you didn't set rules.” He stood up properly. This side of the pool wasn't as deep.

  She made another face, with her tongue sticking out. The look made the inside of his stomach feel funny.

  “Don't go pulling that face on me. You owe me now.” He was still teasing her; she didn't have to sit next to him. He didn't even know if they'd share classes.

  He could ask a favor of Mr. Blackbourne...but if he told him about wanting to sit next to a girl, he might tell him to focus on their task. And to keep his distance. They were there for a job.

  Not that he'd be against them dating. He never was. But their job at Ashley Waters was going to be dangerous.

  But they were to protect students, weren't they? She was one of them.

  She was laughing, and splashed at him, pulling him out of his head.

  He smirked at her, judged her position, and then hung on to the wall for a second. “I warned you about splashing,” he teased.

  He took off in a shot, reaching for her before she could even turn around.

  He picked her up out of the water like before and tossed her, gently, into a deep area.

  She sputtered and splashed, laughing when she surfaced. She went to the edge of the pool and repositioned herself again, like a race. “Go again?” she asked.

  He tried not to laugh at this. “Okay, are you sure?”

  She didn’t say anything and just waited, so he swam over.

  But before he could touch the wall, she cried out, “One, two, three, go!” all blurted out at once and took off instantly. She raced to the other side of the pool, under the water, using the strokes he showed her.

  The little cheat! But he was grinning as he rearranged himself to take off.

  He was tempted to let her win, but how disingenuous was that? She’d know. So he swam as fast as he could, beating her to the other side, and even kicking off the wall to swim all the way back.

  She remained on the other side of the pool, wiping at her eyes. She called out to him. “We have to go back?”

  “It’s a full lap,” he said. “One way and back, yeah?”

  She made a face. “I can’t hold my breath that long.”

  He floated out, halfway over to her. “Why try? Just do breaststrokes.”

  “It’s not as fun.”

  He chuckled. “Prefer being a mermaid?”

  She shrugged, and her cheeks reddened a bit. It was cute.

  He held back a laugh at that. He thought she might think he was laughing at her. “If you enjoy it more, do that.” He swam the rest of the way to her side of the pool and positioned himself again with the wall, hanging on with a palm on the edge, his feet bracing the wall to kick off. “We’ll both do it. Get to the other end, flip around and come back here. See if you can get back here without surfacing.”

  “I’m barely able to not surface going one direction,” she said. “My lungs are burning.”

  “You’re going too fast and using up a lot of energy trying to beat me,” he said. “That requires oxygen. We’re not racing, so don’t try to go fast. Make your swim strokes slow. See how far you can get. When you surface for breath, just stay there.”

  He had her wait until they were both breathing normally, had her take in a big breath through her nose and then out again through her mouth before filling up on air once more and then taking off under the water.

  To make his point, he took his time as well. He wasn’t in a hurry. When he reached with his arms and kicked with his feet, he let that movement completely finish propelling him forward before slowly starting the stroke again.

  She got t
o one side of the pool and maybe a few feet out from the edge before she surfaced, sputtering and coughing.

  He surfaced at the same time, following her, letting out a burst of air on the way up.

  She rubbed at her face. “I need practice.”

  “Then we’ll practice,” Nathan said.

  They tried it a few more times, although she seemed to do better or worse depending on how much she was laughing. She seemed happy. And the more he joked with her—and they raced and teased and he flung her around the pool on occasion—the more she seemed to loosen up.

  And he did too.

  5

  At one point, she crawled out of the pool, resting on her side and gulping at air, catching her breath.

  “Give up?” he asked. He rose out of the water, sitting on the edge of the pool, keeping his feet in. How long had they been in there? He always lost track of time going for a swim.

  “You play rough,” she said, although she more huffed out than spoke.

  He laughed, shook his head and placed a palm at his temple. He didn’t want to admit, but he was feeling it. She might not be able to go fast, but she could keep going. “And here I thought I had my own little mermaid who could keep up.”

  Her cheeks went red again. “You know she dies at the end of the original story.”

  He paused a second, stunned, twisting his lips wanting to say that wasn’t true. She had to be kidding. “What? Why?”

  “She sacrifices herself for the prince’s happiness.”

  “That’s fucked up. Wasn’t he happy with her?”

  “He was in love with another girl.”

  Really? “What an ass.” He didn’t remember this story. He’d only seen the movie version with the happy ending. Once.

  She rolled her eyes but did it with that cute little smile on her face. She flopped over onto her back and stilled, like she was taking a break, maybe enjoying the sun.

  He was pleased she was enjoying herself, but something caught his attention.

  At first, he didn’t want to look because the shirt had fallen over and was exposing her skin near her waist. The shorts were a little low on her hip as well. He didn’t want to be staring at her body.

  But something drew his attention there, and then he realized it was a large bruise just at her hip.

  Was that from the tree? It was his first thought, but then he realized it couldn’t be, it seemed...older. “Where’d you get that?” he asked. He reached out, gently taking the shirt to readjust it to get an idea of the size, it was bigger than he’d originally thought and extended down. He moved the shorts a bit too, getting a look at the entirety of it.

  Huge. It was as big as his hand. A bit of scraping with it, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the coloring. Dark purple. The sort that could last for weeks.

  “Jesus. What’d you do that for?” he asked.

  “I fell,” she said, although to Nathan, it seemed like she was holding back. And when she didn’t offer any more, he knew she was.

  “Onto someone’s foot?”

  “Onto the concrete.”

  He tried to picture the situation that would cause one as bad as that. Her own body weight just standing on the ground and then falling probably wouldn’t have done all that. “How the hell did it get that bad on your hip?”

  “It was the angle, I think.” She repositioned the shirt to cover it up. “It’s fine,” she said. “Looks worse than it feels.”

  “Probably not,” he said. “I’ve had my share of bruises. That’s a nasty one.” He didn’t want to tell her how very familiar he was with bruising, between his own father, the Academy and the martial arts, not to mention being with a pack of boys who were often rough. He knew bruises really well.

  She shrugged. “I can’t do anything for it.”

  For a second, he was going to let it go, but then he didn’t want to. Not when he thought he could help. He pushed himself up until he was standing and then reached a hand down to her. “I’ve got something.”

  She hesitated a second, but he waited. He was sure, and he wanted to assure her it was okay.

  She reached up and took his hand.

  He helped her but once she was up, he found himself holding on to her.

  His mind went blank.

  He was aware of what he was doing, but it took all of everything in him to keep going and not just stand there like an idiot, holding her hand because he enjoyed her touch. Which was weird, because he’d been picking her up in the pool all day.

  This was different. Like before, it drew his mind to her, what she was thinking, if she liked him. He wanted her to like him. More than he ever cared about what any girl thought before.

  And the fact that she didn’t pull away, and kept with him, made him think she felt the same. Maybe she wasn’t saying it, but he sensed she wanted to hang on like he did.

  Just outside the shed, he paused. “Wait here,” he said. “The floor is wood. I don’t want you to slip.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  It had to be him. He was the only one here who knew what he was going after.

  But instead of answering, he let her hand go, disliking that he had to do so, to undo the latch and swing the door open.

  He crossed the smooth pine floor, inhaling the wood scent, along with the smell of sweat and cleaner and the plastic padding along the walls that always seemed to make him sneeze. He resisted this time, and eased his way across the floor, gripping with his toes to make sure he didn’t slip. He turned on the fluorescent lights overhead.

  Despite what he’d said, she followed him in, just a little. He smiled a little but realized she was probably just looking at the posters and awards on the wall. He was almost a little embarrassed by it. He hadn’t participated much in the competitions in a long while. He wasn’t even that competitive, but the Academy, he knew later, was trying to instill confidence in his abilities. And the training had helped him a lot in dealing with his dad. And “going to training” or a competition often gave him an excuse to go out for extra Academy work when his dad was around.

  “You do karate?” she asked.

  He found the question funny. His name was all over the walls. Kota had put it all up when they finished the shed. But he understood she was probably just curious and was looking for an opening.

  “Kind of.”

  She turned from looking at the walls, watching him, but didn’t say anything.

  That was probably a silly answer. She was trying to get to know him and he was doing what he was used to...short answers, not being specific.

  But if he wanted to be her friend, or more, he’d have to open up. He smiled a little. “It’s Jujitsu. And Taekwondo. And some other martial arts. Karate is just a different style.”

  “Oh,” she said. “That’s really cool.”

  She thought it was cool? “I know,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He crossed the room to a small closet that protruded from the rear wall. He searched the shelves until he found what he was looking for and turned around. “Let me see that bruise again,” he said, coming back across the floor.

  She backed out of the shed, onto the pavement and into the sun again. He flicked off the lights and shut the shed door.

  When he turned back, she lifted her shirt to show the bruise again.

  He bit his tongue to keep from saying anything again about the bruise. If she didn’t want to talk about it, he was hesitant to make a big deal about it. But again, looking at it and the extend of the damage, it was pretty bad.

  He showed her the white tube he’d gotten, twisted off the lid and squeezed out the ointment into his palm.

  His first instinct was to help by lathering it on her bruise.

  It made sense at the moment, since she had to hold up her shirt, but then he realized he was touching her close to her butt.

  He tried to focus and not think about that as much. It made it too weird.

  “What is this?” she asked, her nose crinkled.
>
  “Arnica cream,” he said. “It’s supposed to help with bruising and sore muscles.” He did the best he could to reach all of the bruise, including down below the waist of the shorts she wore where he knew the bruise extended.

  When he was done, he wiped off what was left on his fingers onto his swim trunks and closed the tube up again. He passed it to her. “Put this on twice a day until it starts to turn green.” By that time, it was pretty much on its way to healing. It’d just be ugly for a while.

  She took the tube and held it tight to her chest. “Thank you,” she said and remained near him.

  He didn’t want to move away. He kept looking at her, at her friendly face. There was something about her... “You’re pretty nice for a girl,” he said.

  She made a choking sound. “What?”

  Oh great. He said something stupid. He meant to compliment her, and it came out all wrong. He tried to make a joke out of it. “You know,” he said, waving a dismissive hand around, hoping she’d get the bad joke. “Girls are all ‘give me that’ and usually want to get all cute on the couch and not get their hair wet and... yeah, indoor types.” What was he going on about? Indoor types? Ugh. He needed to shut up.

  She lifted a brow curiously. “Girls don’t like wet hair?”

  The way she said it was so strange, like she didn’t know anything about girls at all. Was she trying to make a joke too and he wasn’t getting it? He laughed, trying to pretend he got what she was doing. “You’re totally missing the point.”

  “Probably because I’m a girl,” she said, although she didn’t laugh.

  Okay, maybe he was being stupid. He rolled his eyes, waved his hand again and laugh. He was about to say he was sorry, to not listen to him.

  He was acting crazy. How come whenever it felt he was getting close to her, he turned into such an idiot?

  Before he could respond though, his phone started going off, the ring sharp.

  Great. Probably the guys. It was like a reminder he had responsibilities he was probably ignoring. Or they wanted to hang out. Maybe he could tell them he was feeling tired.

  If it was an emergency though...

  He ran over to it, hoping it wasn’t something urgent. Hoping for a bit more time with her.