by Amber Rides
But you don’t have to go now, I told myself.
And it was true. My grandmother’s house had been sitting for four years without more than an annual visit from a noticeably lazy caretaker. When I’d arrived yesterday afternoon, I’d done nothing more than drop my bags in the extra-dusty front entryway and then run for the beach, notebook in hand.
So, no. I hadn’t been in a rush then, and I didn’t need to be now, either.
If Teekay wanted me to stay, of course. Which he might not.
I dug my toes into the rug again, this time more firmly, and started to stand up before I caught sight of my bare legs. If I was going to get up, I’d need my dress. I glanced around the room in hopes of finding it, but it was nowhere to be seen
Crap.
I was a hostage in Teekay’s room. Unless I wanted to risk running into Donnie – or someone else – in nothing but a borrowed T-shirt and my underwear.
So I took a breath, stood, and looked around the bedroom at a more leisurely, more curious pace.
Without Teekay and his distracting hands, I was actually able to notice a few other things about my surroundings.
Like the fact that the bedroom – which my host had made clear was his – looked like a magazine ad more than it looked like a place someone lived, even part-time. With the exception of the armchair and stool, the bed, and a massive dresser, there was nothing in the room.
It has even less personality that a showroom home, I decided.
Because at the very least a display house would have tried to look like someone had made an effort. A well-placed if generic knick-knack. Some easy-on-the-eyes watercolor print on the wall. But Teekay’s room didn’t even have that. Not a poster, not a speck of dust. Nothing.
I couldn’t help but wonder why there wasn’t an ounce of character in the room. My grandmother’s little place was full to the brim with trinkets and evidence of life, even though it hadn’t been touched in nearly half a decade.
I walked around the room slowly, running my fingers over the furniture and eyeing up the closed closet doors.
Maybe it’s full of plain white t-shirts and jeans like the ones he’d had on yesterday.
I was just about to give in to an urge to open it when, from the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of color in a familiar pattern.
Aha. My dress.
It hung from a hook on a cleverly disguised door at the edge of the room.
I stood on my tiptoes and grabbed it, making the door swing open to reveal a luxurious ensuite bathroom, complete with steam shower and marble tub.
I stepped in with the intention of getting dressed and freshened up, but as I faced the slick marble side of the shower stall and slipped off the borrowed T-shirt, a sudden vision of Teekay, covered in steamy water, clouded my mind. It was all too easy to picture him, soaked and soapy, muscled and waiting, that crooked smile on his face.
With a flustered sigh, I yanked the dress over my head and turned to face the mirror. Which was a mistake.
All amorous thoughts fled as I took in my horrific appearance.
My fine, blonde hair, which usually formed a soft curtain over my face, was twisted and tangled. It was knotted up in clumps that would take an hour to brush out.
And my face…
Oh, god, my face.
It was splotchy with sunburn from my few hours on the beach and the scar that ran from my eyebrow, over my lid, and down to my cheekbone was stark white against the bright pinkness.
Oh, god, I thought again.
I had – for the first time since the accident that caused it – forgotten about how it marred my skin. And there it was, reminding me bluntly of my imperfection. Of my unworthiness.
Had I looked like that when Teekay woke up? Had he looked at me and run out?
Frantically, I swung open the bathroom door in search of my beach bag and the wide sunglasses inside.
“Where is it?” I muttered out loud. “C’mon, c’mon.”
But the bag wasn’t on the hook where my dress had hung. It wasn’t on the floor anywhere that I could see. I dropped to my knees to investigate under the bed. I reached out my hands, hoping urgently they would find what my eyes couldn’t.
And that’s where I stopped and burst out laughing.
I got to my feet, giggles wracking my body, and made my way back to the ensuite, where I took a look in the mirror once more.
Me. Maggie Mooreland. The girl nobody looked twice at in the halls at school, unless it was to make a mocking comment about my appearance. The girl who spent countless hours being told just how ugly she was. Standing in front of bathroom mirror, caring about what some guy thought of me. It was absurdly funny.
I laughed even harder. Then the laughs themselves struck me as funny too, because who even knew I was capable of such a bubbly sound? My body twisted with giggles. I doubled over with them and reached out to grab the countertop to steady myself, but my attempt went wide. I missed my intended target and smacked my face solidly on the sink.
Sharp pain shot through my mouth and when my eyes found the mirror, I saw a trickle of blood oozing from my bottom lip.
“If you thought you looked bad before…” I said to my reflection.
I giggled again, but it made my face hurt more, and after just a second, my laughter morphed into tears as the bleeding worsened.
I reached for the cabinet above the sink, hoping to find a cloth, but an abrupt knock froze me to the spot.
The bathroom door flew open and Donnie stood in the frame, a menacing scowl on his face. As his eyes moved from my split lip to my hand, which was poised mid-reach, I found myself remembering that he said he carried a weapon. I wondered if he really he did, and if so, how willing he would be to use it.
“What’re you doing?” he demanded coldly.
I blinked at him dumbly, sure I looked like the proverbial deer in headlights.
“I asked you a question,” he snarled.
I dropped my eyes. “I hurt myself.”
“That’s it?”
Was he disappointed? Or just surprised? I nodded without looking up to check which it was.
Donnie let out a breath, and when he spoke again, the angry edge had subsided. “I heard you crying and assumed – well. I don’t know what I assumed.”
He pushed past me and opened the cupboard under the sink, dug through, then pulled out a facecloth. He dampened it, then held it out.
My hand shook a little as I took it and pressed it to my lip.
“Thought you’d have taken off by now,” Donnie commented.
“Apparently not,” I mumbled.
“He make you cry like that?”
“No.”
“You lying?”
“Why would I lie?”
“Girls do that.” Donnie shrugged.
I couldn’t really argue with him except to say, “Not me.”
“Because you’re not one of them, are you?”
“A girl?”
He grinned. “A rich kid.”
I smiled back, then winced as my lip burned. “Hardly.”
“Explains why I didn’t hate you on sight,” he replied, then added, “Let me have a look at that cut.”
I brought down the cloth and the older man gave the split a clinical once over.
“Won’t need stitches,” he announced. “Gonna make kissing lover-boy a little painful though.”
“I’m not kissing him,” I blurted, then blushed.
Both of Donnie’s eyebrows shot up. “Well. That explains his rather vigorous swimming efforts this morning.”
The comment might’ve embarrassed me further if it hadn’t filled me with alarm. Teekay had gone to the beach and left me alone?
“He’s not here? How am I going to get home?” I asked.
“Relax,” Donnie replied. “He’s just down in the pool out back.”
“Pool?”
“Right. You’re not one of them.” The older man rolled his eyes. “All these houses up here have them.
Because it’s not good enough that the ocean is ten goddamned miles away. You want me to show you were it is?”
I considered saying no. The idea of sitting beside a contained body of water wasn’t my favorite. But the alternative was probably sitting alone in Teekay’s room, twiddling my thumbs, and I didn’t feel like doing that either. So I nodded and let Donnie led me out of the room and through the house.
We went past the gorgeous fountain again and I had to cover a smile as I thought of Teekay’s secret gum, stashed just out of view. Then Donnie took me through a gourmet kitchen that rivaled something from a cooking show, with its expansive granite countertops, endless cupboard space, and top-of-the-line appliances. I refused to be awed and kept my eyes straight ahead. But when we walked outside, I had no choice but to let my jaw drop.
The backyard was alive with flowering bushes and wooden archways covered in ivy and it sloped off into the woods. It had a wild, unkempt look, like nature could take over civilization at any moment.
And the pool was unbelievable. Crafted of natural stone, it curved along the side of the yard and looked like it was meant to be there.
The artist in me was so overwhelmed that it took me several minutes to notice that Teekay was swimming laps.
Once I spotted him, though, it was impossible to look anywhere else and I all but forgot about the yard. And now my internal artist wished she had a little more experience drawing the human form so she could capture the perfect display of it before her.
It wasn’t the way his muscular arms flashed through the water or the way his sculpted legs whipped along with barely a flash. It was the sheer joy in his movements. It captivated me. And I was surprised at how envious I felt.
Teekay clearly loved swimming – something that would fill me with paralyzing fear. I wished I could share that.
Why did he ever give it up? I wondered.
Even though I’d spent my whole high school career avoiding extra-curricular activities like the plague and took no interest in sports except to know when to avoid the gym, I still hadn’t been immune to Teekay’s legendary reputation. And the rumors and shock that greeted his sudden departure.
Theodore Kimball Marcus, three grades above me and at the top of his game, had walked away from the swim team. An in-the-bag championship. A scholarship he didn’t need but would inevitably acquire. Whispers of Olympic possibilities. And he’d left not just swimming, but school completely. He’d gone home one Friday afternoon and never come back.
When I’d heard the story, I’d even felt a yearning to do the same.
But now, watching his effortless glide across the pool, I couldn’t understand how he could give up the chance to spend his life doing something so perfectly suited to him.
I sank down into one of the deck chairs several feet away so I could watch him without disturbing him.
I was actually disappointed when he swam a final lap, then put his elbows onto the edge of the pool and pushed his fogged-up goggles onto his forehead to grin at me.
“Morning, Maggie,” he greeted.
“Morning,” I replied shyly.
“Grab a suit from the pool house and come in.”
“I don’t swim.”
“Don’t? Can’t? Or won’t?” he teased.
“Can’t. Therefore don’t. And definitely won’t.”
He looked me up and down with a gleam in his eyes. “I’d toss you in anyway, but I’d hate to have to wait for that dress to dry all over again.”
“If you tossed me in, I’d probably die,” I burst out. “I mean, actually die.”
Teekay laughed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re funny?”
“Never,” I admitted. “And I’m not joking.”
He eyed me speculatively. “Does this have something to do with what happened at the beach yesterday? And the fountain last night?”
“Yes.”
“You’re afraid of drowning.” It wasn’t a question.
“Terrified.”
It was easy to talk to him when he was so far away, easy to admit things I didn’t normally admit anywhere but in my head.
“And what would happen if I did it anyway?”
“Threw me into the pool?” Even saying it made my throat want to close up. “I don’t know. I’d panic. Freeze up. Maybe not even be able to stand. And I would drown.”
“Maggie,” Teekay said slowly. “I would never, ever let you drown.”
“Okay,” I replied, sounding just as uncertain as I felt.
He smiled. “You’re not supposed to just agree.”
“I’m not?”
“No.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Bat your eyelashes and say, ‘You wouldn’t, Teekay?’”
“And what’s your reply to that?” I wondered out loud.
“I say…Of course not, darlin’.”
“And then I jump into your arms and into that pool of death?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well. I’m glad I don’t have bat-able eyelashes then.”
Teekay threw back his head and laughed, then climbed out of the pool. He ignored the water dripping from his body as he stretched, but I couldn’t do the same.
His wet shorts hugged him flatteringly, leaving little to the imagination. I suddenly wished I’d taken a closer look when he’d stripped in the parking lot yesterday. Now, I watched him breathlessly as he tossed his goggles aside, shook his hair, and moved toward me.
“You sure you don’t wanna jump into my arms?” he teased.
My face got warm and I tried to look away, but in just seconds, he was on his knees at my side, and he had my face cupped gently in his hands. When he spoke again, though, his was anything but gentle.
“What the fuck happened to your mouth, Maggie?”
“Oh.”
I’d all but forgotten about the injury.
Teekay’s thumb grazed the little split. His touch, though soft, stung a little. But the pain was secondary to the way heat fanned from my lips to my face and down my throat.
“Maggie?” he prodded.
“It’s nothing,” I managed to breathe.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“It was silly,” I elaborated. “I was in your ensuite bathroom and I slipped.”
Teekay’s thumb stopped moving immediately. “You were in my bathroom?”
“You left my dress in there.”
“I left it outside the bathroom,” he corrected.
“I got changed inside though.”
“Did you look around?”
“No.”
Why does it matter? I wondered as I remembered Donnie’s reaction my presence in his room, too, and my mind took a dark turn that I had to shove aside. What’s he hiding?
Teekay’s grip on my face was growing a little more intense with each second. It didn’t quite hurt. But it was no longer pleasant, either.
“Are you lying to me, Maggie?” Teekay demanded.
I jerked my head away. “I’m not a liar.”
“You don’t swear and you don’t lie,” he said. “So…What is your vice?”
His body had relaxed, but mine was still tense. His sudden changes in mood were starting to get to me. And the ache of my jaw made it that much worse.
It wasn’t as though I hadn’t been hurt physically before, but Teekay had made a point of asking me about trust – something I didn’t give out, not just freely, but at all. And he had saved me. Swept me off my feet. Literally.
So I want him to be different.
The realization hit me hard, and before I could stop myself, I voiced my thoughts aloud.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I want to know what makes your bad side tick,” Teekay replied with a lopsided smile.
I refused to take the bait. “I’m not talking about my vice, Teekay.”
His smile slipped slightly before he forced it back in place. “I know.”
“I should go home.”
&n
bsp; “Running away is your vice? Because I think I can persuade you to stay.”
I took a breath. “Why does it matter if I looked around inside your bathroom?”
He leaned back, his face serious once more. “Why are you afraid of drowning?”
My mouth opened. Then closed. I couldn’t form the words that would answer that particular question. Even if I wanted to.
Point taken, I thought.
But what I said was, “I always root for the bad guy.”
His mouth tipped up. “You do?”
I nodded. “Every time.”
“Why?”
I wasn’t sure I could explain it properly. I was the victim of years of torment. I should be rooting for the underdog. But I never did.
I forced a smile. “Because. There has to be a reason.”
“For the bad guy to act the way he does?”
“Mm hmm.”
I stiffened as I waited for him to ask for a more complete explanation, but Teekay just grinned.
“Do you want to see something?”
“Like what?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well. Let’s just say it’s impressively huge.”
My face reddened. “I’m already impressed enough.”
Teekay laughed. “I’m talking about my yard.”
“Your yard?”
“Yep. I’m offering to take you for a walk.”
“A walk?” I repeated, feeling like a parrot.
“You know. One foot in front of the other,” he teased. “Why? What did you think I meant?”
“Nothing,” I said, my face hot. “A walk sounds fine.”
“Good.”
Teekay laughed again, then stood up and put out his hand to pull me up. I let him help me to my feet, and he guided me past the pool and out behind it to the treed area at the back of the yard. His feet were bare, so I didn’t bother pointing out that that mine were too.
When we hit the edge of the trees, we stepped onto a glossy brick path that led through the foliage. We followed that until we couldn’t see the house anymore, and if it hadn’t been for the walkway itself, it might’ve seemed like we were actually in the woods.
