Summer's Last Breath (The Emerald Series)

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Summer's Last Breath (The Emerald Series) Page 7

by Kimberly James


  Girls varsity volleyball didn’t exactly draw a big crowd, so there was plenty of room in the bleachers. They took advantage of it, each taking up several rows as they spread out around my dad like he was the alpha leader of their wolf pack. It was a little disruptive and the few people who were in attendance—especially the moms—all watched with open curiosity and no small amount of appreciation. Both teams paused in the middle of their warm-ups. Ally tossed me a ball, practically drooling and said, “You are so freaking lucky.”

  My eyes were glued to Jamie’s back. He took a seat to my dad’s right, leaving a good two feet between them, and lounged back on the seat behind him, legs spread over the seat below him. His eyes found mine and he gave me a barely perceivable nod. He had cut his hair sometime during the last couple of days. His eyes were bright under the suggestion of dark hair and the shorter length made his jaw and cheekbones stand out sharply. My heart fell somewhere in the pit of my stomach and stayed there while I forced my stiff legs to carry me to the bench where I swiped a quick drink.

  My heart was still in my stomach when Ally gave me the perfect set after receiving a serve that I completely duffed, nearly knocking the referee off her stand.

  Things only got worse from there. I couldn’t stop this downward spiral no matter how many deep breaths I took, or how hard I tried not to look over at Jamie and “the guys,” but ended up looking anyway. Oh, they were encouraging, offering me fist pumps and “atta girls” and “you got this,” when clearly I didn’t. I was totally embarrassing myself in front of these guys, whose motto was, “Never give up.” They understood winning. For them, success was the only option. I wanted Jamie to think I was good. I wanted him to be impressed with me the way I was with him.

  Not after today.

  The hole was getting deeper. We were down 6-17 and on our way to getting our asses kicked in the first game of the match, all because I was distracted by a pair of pale green eyes and a set of wide shoulders. But it was more than that. I’d spent the last year believing volleyball was the most important thing to me, but since Jamie had come into my life I wasn’t sure anymore.

  Frustrated by our performance, Coach Hall called a timeout. I was the last one off the court, struggling to catch my breath. I was never out of breath. It was as if I had cement in my shoes and a cinder block for lungs. Coach kept her talk positive, her instructions basic, repeating all those things that usually came easy for me: Stay low. Move toward the ball. Keep your hands in front of your body. She addressed the whole team but her eyes kept coming back to me, pointed with meaning.

  “Get your head in the game, Shaw,” my dad called when we took the court. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He was usually pretty quiet during my games, doing no more than occasionally clapping. But then I didn’t usually suck.

  “Erin.” Ally pinched my back, pulling on the strap of my sports bra. She let go and it snapped against my sweaty skin. “Focus. Forget Jamie. Relax and do your thing.”

  Forget Jamie? How could I? I could smell him from here. His presence took up the entire gym and it wasn’t a small gym.

  Ally set the ball in the perfect spot. We’d practiced this so many times before. She was holding up her end of the set up, putting the ball right in my sweet spot. I went up for the spike, and once again, the ball clipped the top of the net and sailed out of bounds. My timing was off. My stomach rolled. I was usually a little queasy before a game, but after a few points, I would relax. But not today. I thought I might hurl at any minute. And wouldn’t that be great?

  Jamie got up and made his way down the bleachers, and I thought, with a sinking feeling, he was leaving. I was only half listening to Coach, trying to keep Jamie in my peripheral as he walked out into the hallway. He stooped over the water fountain and took a drink.

  The other team had the ball, and one of the seniors on our back line made an impressive dig, bumping the ball to Ally. Instead of setting it, she dumped it over the net, catching the Lady Raiders off-guard, giving us the point and the serve back.

  Oh goody. I was up in the service rotation and well aware I hadn’t hit a single serve over the net this whole game. We’d scored fifteen points straight off my serve against a team last week, but for some reason, the ball felt too big and I was plain clumsy today.

  I walked back to the service line just as Jamie reentered the gym.

  “This is what you do, baby,” Jamie told me as he walked by on his way to his seat. It’s what the team said to each other when one of them was down and underperforming, when one of them lost their mental edge. “This is what you do.” They didn’t call each other baby, though. That had been all for me.

  Something about Jamie’s tone, his endearment, made me smile inside and lifted the brick that had settled in my stomach when he’d walked in. He expected me to figure out a way to turn this around, to turn myself around. This is what I did. I played volleyball. And I was good. Didn’t matter who was watching or the stakes. It only mattered that I played. The thought shifted something in my brain. I dared a look at Jamie as he sat between Noah and Donovan. He winked, exuding complete confidence, not in himself, but in me.

  The whistle blew. We won ten points off my serve. It wasn’t enough to win that game, but we won the next three and took the match. It was the best comeback of my short career.

  * * *

  I pulled into Jamie’s driveway thirty minutes after the game. I’d hugged everybody’s neck afterward. Jamie was the only one I hadn’t hugged. I was too afraid I wouldn’t let go, and I thought he felt the same way because he kept his distance, and even though he never expressly asked me to come over, the invitation was there in his eyes as he watched me hug Donovan and Tate and give Lassiter and Ross high-fives. I’d walked out of the gym with Noah’s arm around my shoulders, wishing the whole time it was Jamie’s.

  I took the path that led around the side of the house. The sky was graying under the fading daylight, and just as I cleared the rise of dunes and stepped onto the open beach, Jamie emerged from the surf as if he knew I was here. All this wide-open space and it still wasn’t big enough. He dwarfed the entire sky.

  “Way to give me a heart attack. Watching you play was the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done. How does your dad stand it?” He walked right up to me his smile wide, water streaming down the broad planes of his chest and torso. A drip caught on the end of his nose and he shook it loose with a quick flick of his head.

  “Yeah, my dad was pretty insistent I never start off like that again.” I looked down shyly. The hug I’d wanted to give him after the game seemed out of place now. And there was always something different about him when I saw him in his element, with the Gulf as his backdrop. He was always a bit less regular human and more something else. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He took my hand, wrapping my fingers in his.

  I lifted my gaze back to his face. “Sticking around. Saying what you did.”

  “It was fun, and you’re weren’t half-bad.” He tugged on our linked hands, forcing me to step closer to him.

  “Not half-bad?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Okay, I admit I’m impressed,” he said around a full-wattage smile that momentarily stole my ability to speak.

  “Y’all made quite an impression too. My teammates begged me to invite you back.”

  “We’ll be back. At least I will.” He leaned over, running his nose up the side of my neck. I shivered in response. “Come swim with me.”

  “I don’t have a bathing suit,” I protested. I had to get on my tiptoes to do it, but my mouth found the juncture of his shoulder and neck where his skin was so soft and warm and deliciously salty. He shuddered when I nuzzled him and picked me up, his arms tight around my back.

  “Go in with what you have on.” He was already walking toward the shoreline.

  “Wait.” I pushed against his chest. It was like pushing against stone with no give under my fingers. He set me back on my feet, and my hands found the hem of th
e t-shirt I’d put on after taking off my jersey. I swiped it over my head, leaving me in my spandex shorts and sports bra.

  His eyes raked over me. Then he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder, one hand placed firmly on my ass. The water was a smooth, flat surface that rippled when he waded in and I squealed when he toppled over, submerging us. His lips were on mine before we resurfaced, his tongue coaxing my mouth to open under his. I was sorry I needed to breathe. I wanted to stay underwater with him forever.

  After we resurfaced, he asked, “How long can you hold your breath?”

  “I don’t know. I can go down and back in our pool without coming up for air.” Seeing who could swim the most laps in the pool without coming up for air was a game the guys and I often played on those Saturdays when they’d come over. Donovan held the record. He could swim the length of the pool five times without coming up for air. He’d nearly blacked out doing it, but he'd made it.

  “So about a minute maybe a little less.” He laced my arms around his neck. “Just tap my shoulder or kick me or something when you need to come up.”

  I’d swum with a dolphin before at the aquarium, but this was way better. My hands clung to Jamie’s shoulders as he carried me through the water, his back and legs flexing with each fluid movement. He was so beautiful when he swam, I almost forgot I needed air. I let go of his shoulders and kicked for the surface realizing I’d waited too long. I was seeing spots by the time Jamie grabbed my hand and shot us upward. The air hit my face and I gasped and sputtered.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone that deep.” He held me up while I breathed deeply, his eyes full of concern. “I can’t imagine what it’s like not being able to breathe underwater.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t imagine what it’s like to breathe underwater.”

  “Let’s try again. Tap me next time. I can get you up a lot faster.”

  Jamie took me under, and this time, I grabbed his hand and let him pull me along, setting what I knew was a leisurely pace, but the water still stung my eyes—a small price to pay to be able experience his world, even if it was only for a handful of seconds at a time. Underwater, it was quiet and peaceful and everything was shrouded in a green mist.

  I squeezed his fingers and had to close my eyes when he shot us toward the surface.

  “Is that okay? You good?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I said after catching my breath. How could I not be with Jamie’s hands on my hips, his face so close I had to press my lips to the corner of his mouth?

  He smiled into my kiss and we sank. It was only a matter of seconds before I needed air. I pulled on his hand but instead of heading to the surface, he breathed into me, filling my lungs with air and it was as if he were giving me his essence. We floated to the surface, slow and easy as a bubble. Jamie turned over on his back and settled me on top of him. The lights from shore were farther away than I expected and it was fully dark. I should have probably been freaking out, but I felt nothing but safe with him.

  I sighed and rested my hand on his chest, my chin on my hand. My finger lightly bumped the pearl nestled in the hollow of his throat. It seemed to warm under my touch. Noah wore a similar one. The one time I’d asked him about it, he’d clammed up, saying it was just a necklace, but I didn’t think so.

  The undulations of Jamie’s hips and legs were slight, but it was enough to propel us toward shore. I smiled, enjoying the ride and the feel of him moving beneath me. “What are you?”

  “What do you mean.” His brows creased and something heated sparked in his eyes.

  I lifted my head. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just curious why you are the way you are. Where did you come from?”

  “There are a few people who would like to know the answer to that question,” he said, and I thought maybe I’d touched on a nerve by asking.

  “I think you’re incredible. You could be descended from a god,” I observed, ever aware I was pressed up against his totally god-like physique.

  “That’s an interesting theory,” he said. “All I know is that something’s out here.”

  “What?”

  “Her. The Deep. My mom believes she’s a goddess. I just know she calls to me. She calls to all of us in one way or another.”

  I smiled faintly at the mysteriousness of it all, the way he was, enchanting and otherworldly. I could believe that some water goddess called to him.

  Jamie dropped his feet to the sandy bottom. His hands skimmed down my back, caressing the skin above the band of my spandex shorts. I waited for his hands to slide lower and cup my cheeks, but they slid away altogether. I found my own footing, and when I stood, the breeze blew over my shoulders, causing goosebumps to rise. Jamie’s jaw clenched and he backed away from me, his eyes wide as he stared at my chest. Then his eyes slammed shut and I thought he said, “Jesus,” but I wasn’t sure it was so choked and strained.

  I looked down at myself and stifled a laugh. My bra was white and no match for the water. And it was a little cool. I might as well have been naked from the waist up.

  “Would you go put your shirt back on,” Jamie said and he almost sounded angry.

  “What? You want me to cover up?” And here I thought things were just about to get interesting. My fingers itched to explore his godliness.

  “Yeah. It’s time to get out,” he said and turned, wading out of the water, leaving me to follow after him.

  I waded out of the water, scowling at his sudden change in demeanor. I bent over and picked up my shirt, fighting the tears burning in my eyes.

  “I’m not sure I can do this anymore,” Jamie said from behind me. I froze and slowly turned to face him, clutching my shirt in my fist.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, totally confused now.

  “I knew this was a bad idea from the start,” he said, deliberately averting his gaze from me.

  Was he afraid to look at my boobs?

  ”Wait. You’re breaking up with me because I have a nice rack?” I threw my shirt at him, but it didn’t go very far, landing in a puddle between us. He actually turned his back on me so he wouldn’t have to look at my offending rack.

  “You know most guys wouldn’t mind a girl with a nice set of boobs,” I said, somewhat offended myself.

  “I’m not most guys, and you’re not most girls,” he said, giving me his profile but no more. “Marshall would have my nuts if he knew what I was thinking.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. All by itself, my voice went all soft and sultry. I didn’t even know I could do soft and sultry. “What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, hell no. Don’t do this to me, Erin. I’m trying to do the right thing here,” he said, retreating farther as if little sixteen-year-old me had the power to bring him to his knees.

  “By making me feel bad about my body? You parade around all the time half dressed, and I admit, I enjoy the view. A lot.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Why? You don’t think I look at you and not think about touching you? Being with you? Because I do. I have.”

  “Stop,” he practically growled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “The shirt. Put it on. Please.”

  “No,” I said.

  My eyes fell to the bulge in his shorts. He saw my eyes shift, and with a groan, covered himself with his hands.

  I snort-laughed. “I know what an erection is, Jamie. And I’m pretty sure it means you like me, making all this, ‘Please put a shirt on’ act a bunch of bull. What are you so afraid of anyway?“

  “You.” His eyes sparked like shooting stars and I thought it must have been a trick of the moon. “Because you’re sixteen and you’re Marshall’s daughter and I thought I could do this, but I can’t.” He strode over to the towel and picked up my keys. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “No you won’t. You don’t get to do that.” I yanked my keys out of his hand. “You’re not going to break up with me and then walk me to my car. I got here by myself. I can leave by m
yself. Without my shirt on.”

  “Erin, listen—"

  He tried to take my arm but I jerked away from him. “Go to hell, Jamie.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

  Too late for that buddy. I leveled my eyes on him. “You’re nothing but a tease, you know that?”

  He made a frustrated sound and cast a longing glance behind him as if he were looking for an escape. My eyes lifted over his shoulder, to the water beyond, so vast and dark and mysterious.

  “Go ahead,” I said, my voice sharp as a razor.

  Of course that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms and tell me he was sorry for saying that we were a mistake. But that’s not what he did. No, he did what I’d asked, and next thing I knew, I was staring at his beautiful back as he waded into the Gulf.

  “Go ahead. Run,” I yelled. “You’re going to be my first, Jamie Jacobs. Think about that while you’re out there. That’ll ease the strain in your shorts.”

  Chapter Ten

  

  After two hours of stewing in rejection, my phone buzzed on my nightstand. I was both annoyed and relieved to see Jamie’s name on the screen. It annoyed me further that I was mostly relieved.

  Jamie: wtf happened

  Me: you lost your shit when you saw my boobs

  Jamie: yeah i did. can i come over?

  Me: idk I still have them.

  Jamie: thank god. 3 minutes

  Still a bit miffed, I pulled off the tank I’d put on for bed and put on the biggest, loosest t-shirt I owned. I made my way silently down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to listen for any signs my dad was still up and about.

  After I’d gotten home, my dad and I sat by the pool eating the dinner of champions—ice cream. Oreo for me, chocolate for him. Neither of us had felt much like cooking. I’d thought ice cream would soothe my bruised feelings. It hadn’t. Worse, I couldn’t talk to my dad about it.

  I knew my dad would be back in the kitchen later, scrounging for something else to eat. While a bowl of ice cream was enough to tide me over until breakfast, my dad’s stomach would be eating itself in a matter of hours. For now though, the house was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator.

 

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