I stood up and offered Kayla a hand. My couch tended to swallow people. “Are you hungry?” I asked her.
She hesitated an extra beat before accepting my help. “Yeah.”
Her hand felt warm in mine. A current of… something shot up my arm and settled somewhere in my chest. I liked her. Really liked her. I held on until she looked at me, and then let her go, my thumb brushing across the back of her knuckles.
“Kayla,” Natalie called from the dining room. “Come tell Trey about that time our junior year. Do you remember? The party with the bathtub full of ice?”
All night long, I tried not to be the creepy guy staring at her. But it was hard not to. Everything she said. The way she laughed. The way she moved. I was hooked. We made eye contact a few times during dinner. Maybe more times than just a few. But she always smiled, which was encouraging. Or so I hoped. It was possible she was just being nice.
After dinner, I carried a stack of plates into the kitchen, while everyone else moved out to the deck.
Chase followed me in. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Dude, what’s up with you and the new girl?”
“Kayla? She went to high school with us. She’s not new.”
“She did? How come I don’t remember her?”
“She was three years behind us.”
“You’ve been staring at each other all night.”
I shrugged. “I like her.”
“Have you asked her out?”
“Earlier this week. She said no.”
“I’d have never guessed with the way she’s been looking at you.”
I carried a couple of empty bottles to the recycle bin in the pantry. “It’s complicated. She’s only in town for a couple weeks. Plus, she’s a swimmer. One of the best. She’s training for the summer Olympics.”
He whistled. “That good, huh? What’s that got to do with you, though? I’m pretty sure Olympic athletes are allowed to date.”
“It’s not an Olympic rule, it’s hers. She’s focused on her goals, which I totally respect. I’ve been there.” A thought entered my mind. What if I were training, too? I pushed the question away. Training made what I was doing sound official. I was only swimming. Just swimming.
Chase shook his head. “I don’t buy it. Her words might have told you no, but her eyes have been saying something different all night.” He glanced over his shoulder through the kitchen window. “Looks like she’s standing all alone out there, man. Go talk to her.”
James had built a fire in the fire pit where everyone had gathered around. Everyone but Kayla, who stood off to the side, taking in the view of the distant city lights and the water beyond. I stopped right beside her, pulling on the jacket I’d grabbed on my way outside. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
She smiled. “This is a great house.”
“I can’t take credit for it. My parents have owned it forever as a rental. They’ve let me take over the lease.”
“That was nice of them.”
“Well, you know, with my high paying job in education,” I teased, “I can afford to live just about anywhere. But since my parents needed someone to look after the place, I figured I’d do them a solid.”
She smiled at my joke. “I think it’s great that you teach.”
“Yeah?”
Kayla turned to face me. “Was it…” She hesitated.
I nudged her shoulder, urging her on. “Was it…?”
“Sorry. I feel like every time we’re together I bring this up.”
“What, the accident? It’s fine. I don’t mind talking about it.”
“I guess I just wonder if it was hard to transition into teaching. I mean, I have a degree in public relations. I figure I’ll use it one day. But I’m so focused on swimming right now, having an actual career seems like an entirely different life, you know?”
“I don’t know. Michael Phelps is worth millions. I doubt he’ll ever use his degree.”
“Ha. Yeah. But that’s hardly a fair comparison.” She held up her hands like they were two sides of a scale. “Michael Phelps?” One hand went up. “The rest of humanity.” The other hand went down.
“I don’t know if you’re being too generous to Michael, or too hard on the rest of us.” I reached out and took her hands, moving them so one was only slightly higher than the other. “That’s better. Except, I’d put you on this side.” I squeezed the hand that was higher until she smiled and pulled away.
“You’re a flirt,” she said.
“Not with everyone.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll definitely give you points for persistence.”
“Do you still want me to answer your question?”
“You mean seriously, this time?” She smirked. “Yes, please.”
“It wasn’t tough to start teaching. I was out of commission for so long, it felt great to be doing anything. And I like what I do. It’s not the thrill of competition, but it pays the bills.”
“Do you miss swimming?”
“Of course I do. All the time.” Suddenly I wanted to tell her. That I’d been swimming. Working. That I’d even entertained thoughts of a comeback. I hadn’t felt tempted to tell anyone else. Not even Chase or my parents knew how I was feeling. The thought of confessing to Kayla, an elite athlete that swam and trained with the nation’s best, felt foolish. And yet, it seemed right, too. Maybe more than anyone she’d understand how much would be at stake if I took the leap.
“Are you ever in the water these days?” she asked for the second time that night.
I inhaled and nodded. “I’ve been swimming every morning before school, actually. Training, I guess.” There. I’d admitted it.
Her eyes went wide. “Are you serious? You’re thinking of competing again?”
“It’s still early. I’d have a lot to come back from, if I decided to make it official.”
“Yeah, but… Nate, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone swim the way you do.”
“The way I did.”
“If you were to come back… it would be amazing.”
“It’s just an idea. I don’t even know if I want to, or if I could ever be ready.”
She was buzzing. Excitement dancing in her eyes. “What do your doctors say?”
I shrugged. “I’m good. Bones are healed. At this point, it’s more a matter of building up my strength and seeing how far I can go.”
“And getting your head back in the game.”
“Yeah, that.” She did understand. Muscle mattered, sure. But it could only get me so far if I wasn’t in the right head space. Letting go of the fear. Ignoring the need to breathe, to stop, to slow down. Finding that zone was almost more important.
“Let’s go to the pool tomorrow,” she said.
“What?”
“Come swim with me. I’m there alone every day, and I’m so bored. Train with me.”
“Intriguing invitation, but I’ve got a meet tomorrow.”
“Crap. Me, too. I mean, I’m coming to watch Bridg swim so I’ll be there, too. What about after?”
“I don’t know,” I teased. “Saturday night. That feels a little like a date.”
“Not a date.” She pointed a finger at my chest. “Not for a single second.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. You tell me the real reason why you won’t have dinner with me, and I’ll agree to swim with you.”
She folded her arms. “Promise?”
I nodded. “I promise.”
She sighed and turned to the side, leaning against the metal porch railing. “My freshman year at Berkeley I had a really serious boyfriend. Too serious. I lost my focus. My training suffered, and because of it I bombed the Olympic trials. After that, I vowed I was done. No dating until my career was back on track.”
“You haven’t dated since your freshman year in college?”
She scoffed. “Don’t mock. You’ve lived this life. You know how little free time there is.”
“I ha
ve lived that life,” I agreed. “And look where it got me.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Nate. Geez, why do I keep bringing that up?”
“Don’t apologize.” I took a step forward. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I’m just saying, suffering an accident like I did taught me a few things about life. I realize I run the risk of this sounding self-serving, but can I offer you some advice?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Swimming was everything. My entire world. Then in a blink, it wasn’t anymore. But it didn’t take long for me to realize, even without the swimming, I still had a life. I had my family. I started teaching. I’m not saying making the Olympic team shouldn’t be the most important thing in your life right now. If I had your stats and rank, it would be for me. But I am saying life outside the pool isn’t a bad thing. Maybe the problem your freshman year wasn’t that you had a boyfriend. It was just that you had the wrong one.”
She pursed her lips, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “I will consider your advice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. But tomorrow night is still not a date.”
I grinned. “Whatever you say.”
“Nate, don’t make me get serious with you, now.” Man. Now she was flirting and it was killing me.
“Meet me at the club at 6:30?”
“6:30,” she repeated.
“Hey, Nate,” Bryson called from the fire pit. “Where’s your cooler?”
“I’ll be right there,” I said. I looked back at Kayla and whispered, “It’s totally a date.”
She crossed her arms, and cocked her hip, but didn’t stop smiling. “You are insufferable.”
“Hey! That’s a bonus point word in my English class. Poetry quotes get you double.”
She laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
I motioned with my head. “Come on. Sit by the fire?”
“Fine.” Her shoulders dropped in playful resignation. “But only because I’m cold.”
“Whatever it takes, Phillips,” I said. “Whatever it takes.”
Chapter Five
KAYLA
Bridget burst into the living room. “Kayla! Where are you? Are you here?”
My parents and I had gotten home from the swim meet an hour earlier than she had. She’d insisted on riding the bus with the rest of her team. And by rest of her team, I meant Brett.
“I’m in here.” I put down the book I was pretending to read. Something to occupy my thoughts until I met Nate at the pool. I held up my hand as she came into the room. A congratulatory high five was definitely in order. “Way to kill it, baby sister. Great meet.”
“Thank you very much. The girl I beat? In the IM? She holds her school’s record.”
“Which you smoked by two seconds.”
She grinned. “Yes, I did.”
“You’re awesome.”
“And only a few seconds away from beating your time, now. Are you getting nervous yet?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a little more than a few.”
She plopped onto the sofa across from me. “Are you ready to talk about my very exciting news?”
“Of course.”
“Where’s Mom? I want her to hear, too.”
“She and Dad went to the store.”
“Boo. Okay, fine. But don’t tell her before I can.”
“I won’t say a word. What’s up?”
She smiled, her eyes wide, her whole body coiling up with excitement. “Brett asked me to the dance.”
“Yay! I’m so glad!”
She pulled a pillow onto her lap and squealed, hugging it tightly to her chest. “I know! I’m so excited. I found this dress at the boutique on the corner. I’ve been visiting it for weeks, but now I actually have a reason to buy it! It’s this deep red— perfect, because, Valentine’s Day— with this shimmery skirt and, oh, I’m so excited. Did I already say that? I’m so, so excited.”
“Brett— he’s the one that swam the 500, right? Tall. With super broad shoulders?”
“Yeah.” She sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions. “That’s him.”
“I’m happy for you, Bridg.” I stood up, tossing my book onto the couch. “I gotta go. Mom said for you not to go out again before she gets home. You shouldn’t have to wait long.”
“What? I just got here. Where are you going?”
“To the pool.”
She sat up a little straighter. “Seriously? You’re training on a Saturday night? You already swam once today.”
She was right, but I hadn’t gotten in a full workout. There’d only been an hour and a half after the pool opened before we’d had to leave for her meet. Besides…
“This is different,” I told her. “I’m not swimming alone.”
Bridget scrunched her eyebrows for a second, then her jaw dropped. “Are you meeting Coach Hanson?”
I didn’t answer; only smiled as I headed down the hall. She ran after me, following me into what had once been my bedroom but was now a yoga studio with a pull-down murphy bed for guests. Mom had waited twenty whole minutes after I moved out to start the makeover. Good thing I knew she loved me.
“You are!” Bridget said. “You are meeting him. Oh, I knew it! I knew you’d be great for each other.”
“Slow down. We’re only swimming. It’s not a date.”
“Hmm. You’re going to want it to be, as soon as you see him without a shirt on.”
“Bridget! Gross. He’s your teacher.”
“He’s not my teacher. He teaches freshman English.”
“Fine. He’s your coach. Either way, shame on you.”
“Whatever. I’m admiring from a distance. Totally allowed. He has this scar down his arm and side. From his accident. It’s crazy, but also kind of sexy.”
I held my hands up to my ears. “Blah! Stop. I do not want to hear this from you.” I pulled my swim bag out of the closet and dug through it, looking for my practice suit. “Where is my…?”
“The one you wore this morning is still hanging in the bathroom.”
“I know. I want the other one, though. The blue one.”
“Ohh. Good choice. It’ll make your eyes look more green.”
“Yes. So important, since you can’t see my eyes through my goggles.” I went to my suitcase and dug through it as well. “Ha! Found it.” I tossed the suit into my bag and zipped it up.
Bridget bounced on the edge of my bed. “Tell Coach I said hi,” she requested, her voice all sing-songy and stupid. Crazy girl. Some days it felt like she was more twenty-five than seventeen, as focused and driven as she could be. But sitting there on the bed, her eyes all sparkly, her head full of Brett and dances and crazy notions about love, she was one hundred percent teenager.
I pulled my bag onto my shoulder. “You’re a nut. See you later.”
When I arrived at the pool, Nate was already in the water. I stashed my stuff under a deck chair and took my cap and goggles to the far lane where he was swimming. I sat on the pool edge and lowered my feet into the water while I watched him. His stroke was great— long and clean, and seemingly effortless. My mind flashed back to high school, to the countless times I’d admired him in much the same way. In the same pool, even.
I blushed just thinking about the earnestness of my crush. I’d followed him around like a lost puppy for an entire year. At least during swim season. I’d told myself he’d had no idea what I was up to, that he’d believed all my weird, random reasons for being wherever he was. But in retrospect, it was obvious he had to have known. The entire team had known. That he had never made fun of me or joked about it or made me feel silly only deepened the respect I had for him now, eight years later. He could have teased me, and he hadn’t. That said a great deal about his character.
Nate reached the end of the pool and stood up, water dripping off his face and onto his shoulders. He lifted his goggles onto his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, flinging water all over me.
&n
bsp; “Hi.” He smiled.
“Hi.” My eyes were immediately drawn to the scar that snaked around the curve of his left shoulder and down toward his bicep.
He followed my gaze. “Impressive, right?” He lifted his arm and rotated his shoulder, as if to prove it did, actually, still work.
“Was that from surgery?”
He shook his head and touched the scar. “This was from a laceration. It’s ugly, but it wasn’t as serious as the broken bones.” He touched his arm a little lower down. “My arm was broken here, and then down here.” He touched his forearm. “My shoulder blade was jacked up, too. Broken in several places.”
“I didn’t even know you could break a shoulder blade.”
“I didn’t either. Not until it happened.”
“It’s amazing that you’re here and put back together and swimming again.” I lowered myself into the water. It was warm. Too warm, really, but it was better than nothing.
“Yeah. I had some good doctors. And good physical therapy. I actually saw your mom a few times.”
“Yeah, she told me.” I splashed water onto my arms, trying not to stare at the damage done to Nate’s body. Although in general, scar or not, it was hard not to stare. He looked good. Almost too good. Like his old high school self, only more grown up. And definitely more ripped.
We were alone in the pool, save one old guy who was lap swimming in the center lane. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of the closeness of our bodies. Of the heat rising from his exercise-flushed skin; the beads of water clinging to his eyelashes.
He moved an inch closer, a smile playing at his lips. “You okay? Your cheeks are all pink, and you haven’t even started swimming yet.”
“Whatever.” I eased toward the lane rope, realizing too late it was probably weird that I’d dropped into his lane in the first place. We had nearly the whole pool. Did we really need to share a lane? “Don’t be getting any ideas. It’s hot in here. That’s all.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Ready to work?”
I pushed over the rope into my own lane and pulled on my swim cap. “I’m going to warm up with 1000 meters, then we can start with 200 repeats. Does that work? Let’s say, 15. The first five on the 2:20 mark, the next five on 2:10, and the last five on the 2. After that, I need some sprint work.”
Valentine's Day Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 19) Page 13
