Love Emerged (Love Surfaced #3)

by Michelle Lynn

  “We could, but you’d win.”

  I swim toward her, and she slowly backs away, as though I’m scaring her.

  “I don’t know about that. I think I sprained my ankle.” She lifts her knee, and her hand massages her ankle. “On the way back from my dad’s, I walked off a corner, and it twisted.”

  I inch closer, swimming to the other side of her body to have a look. “Lift it up onto the edge,” I instruct.

  She shoos me with her hand.

  “Bea.”

  She releases a long sigh, but rests her limber leg on the ledge as she floats on her back.

  I touch it a few times, as though I took a few medical classes at NYU. She flinches at first, and I glance back at her. My breath hitches in my throat as I watch her lying across the surface of the water with her eyes closed. She looks as peaceful as an angel. So unlike her usual self.

  I pat her ankle, alerting her to let her leg back down.

  “So?” she asks.

  “Just stay off it for the night.” I give advice I’m not even sure is correct, but I’m not going to sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about.

  “Thank you.” She swims close to me, leaving us chest-to-chest. “Anything else, doctor?” Her voice is sugary sweet with flirtation.

  “Bea.” I cock my head.

  She laughs. “Learn to joke and play around a little.” She swims away, slowly doing the backstroke to the opposite wall.

  My eyes fixate on her movements, her breasts popping up and down in the water. I’d love to be her doctor for the night. Strip that swimsuit off her body, and show her how wet I can make her. But we have to work to relieve the boulder that sits in my stomach. If I allow my hormones to get the best of me, I’ll lose my career in the mix.

  She returns to me, and I’m about to climb out of the water when her hand lands on mine.

  “Stay. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.” She exaggerates the distance between us.

  “You okay?” I ask, my body dipping back down in the warm water.

  Her eyes dart to the left. “I’m fine. I have a few things to do tomorrow with my dad, so can we meet in the evening?”

  “Yeah, I work better at night anyway.” I want her body closer to mine, but I grip the cement wall before I venture too far.

  Our legs and arms move through the water, an uncomfortable silence filling the humid room. It’s never been like this between Bea and me. Then again, I’ve really only spent time with her a handful of days. Even if my body feels like it knows her, she makes sure I truly don’t.

  “How come you don’t swim?” She breaks the quiet atmosphere, taking my thoughts far away from where they were spiraling.

  The loaded question that most feel responsible to ask me.

  “I just don’t. Never took to it.” I turn around, leaving my arms on the edge of the pool. “Not for me, I guess.”

  I went through all the swimming lessons, and when it was time for me to compete, I hated it. Luckily, my parents were so invested in Tanner that they let me slide.

  “I just figured, with Tanner, it must be a family thing,” she mimics my movements, and both our legs are stretched along the surface of the water now.

  “Are your brothers and sisters swimmers?” I ask, my voice much harsher than I’d like it to be. It’s not even that I’m upset by the question. I understand people’s curiosity, but I love my brother, and I’m proud of what he’s accomplished. It’s just that he is the first thing people want to know about when I meet them.

  Her nail picks at a crack in the cement edging. “I told you, I don’t have any siblings.”

  Fuck. Now, I feel like a dickhead. She already told me that.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  She holds up her hand to stop me from talking. “Don’t apologize.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is it hard to be the brother of Tanner McCain?”

  I laugh, because it’s the complete opposite. “No, it’s not. I understand the natural intrigue some people have about my brother, his life as an Olympic swimmer. I think people ask me about him because they would be jealous if he were their brother. I couldn’t be prouder of him, and that’s the truth.”

  “Maple-syrup sweet.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You. You’re so damn sweet. Like a politician who has all his answers on some teleprompter. I just wonder”—she twists around, and my eyes narrow in on her tits emerging from the surface—“is it an act or real?”

  “I’m not sweet everywhere,” I remind her.

  A pink flush fills her cheeks. “I remember.” She flips back around, as though she’s somehow embarrassed about what we did.

  “Bea.” I grab her attention.

  Her head leans on her arm as she stares over at me. She looks like a lost little girl, and I want nothing more than to escort her home.

  “It’s real. I’m not a fake.”

  She picks up her head, ready to defend herself, but I push myself out of the water and to the table. Taking a towel, I begin drying myself off.

  “Dylan—”

  “Meet me in my room in fifteen minutes. We should knock this campaign out since you have personal shit to deal with this weekend.”

  I bend down to pick up my shoes and grab my phone and key card, leaving her in the pool.

  On the way to my room, a small bit of guilt embeds that I made her feel insecure on asking me personal questions but at some point, I can’t be ashamed of being a nice guy. Ava and Bea are in the same boat, wanting men who treat them like crap. And they can have the rat bastards if they want them.

  A half hour later, there’s a knock on my door. I stand up from my computer to let Bea in. I open the door, and she waltzes in with her computer bag swung over her shoulder.

  She has a headband thing in her hair. My eyes zoom in on her tight ass in her yoga pants while she saunters by me.

  “Nice of you to be on time,” I comment.

  “Fifteen minutes is not a reasonable amount of time for any woman to get ready.” She slides in a chair at the table and sets up her computer opposite mine.

  I laugh, not even going to defend myself. “I was ready in ten.”

  She looks over at me, her eyes scrolling up and down my body. “I’d hardly say you’re ready. Scruffy five o’clock shadow, track pants, and a T-shirt”—she squints her eyes to read the lettering—“that says, Rub me for luck, isn’t what I call irresistible.” She turns back around, concentrating on her computer.

  I walk over to the shared table. “I wasn’t trying to impress you. I dress for comfort.” Sitting down behind my computer, I catch her eyes over our laptops.

  “What’s with the shirt?”

  “My friends and I wore them on St. Patrick’s Day one year. It’s my most comfortable shirt. Why?” I wink. “Do you want to give me a rub?”

  A sly smirk slowly wraps her lips. “I’d love to, but I’m thinking the part I want to ‘rub’ is off-limits.” She puts quotes up in the air.

  A specific part of my body is willing to forego the rules I’ve put into place, so we can shift this work thing to my bed. I’m busy calming myself down before she notices the effect she has on me when my cell rings.

  I reach for the phone, and it fumbles in my hands a few times before I get a good hold of it. Bea snickers across from me.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  She tips her head down, as though giving me privacy.

  “Hey, Tim. Yeah, we’re working on it right now.”

  She lifts up, realizing it’s not a personal call.

  “Yeah. No worries. We have this handled.” I wink over to Bea, leaning back in my chair, admiring the flush to her cheeks.

  Bea Zanders might act like she doesn’t want someone who is kind and loving to her. She might even act like she’s good with one night of fun, but I can tell she wants more. She’s just too fearful to ask for it.

  “All right. Well, we’d better get back to it.” I hang up the phon
e before Tim can say good-bye because, the truth is, I’m not reporting back to him on Nike. This is for the ones above him, Mr. Knight and the suits who sought me out and hired me under the stipulation that I’d be one of them in five years.

  Bea is staring out the window when I turn in my seat. Her eyes are lost in the streets below as the people go about their day. Her face is solemn and blank of any emotion. Her mind is somewhere else because she hasn’t noticed in the thirty seconds that I’ve been off the phone that I’m mesmerized by her. There’s always been something about Bea, even from the time I saw her months ago.

  Tanner and I were just arriving home to attend Brad’s pre-wedding cookout. Tanner was so obsessed with seeing Piper again after two years that we never even delved into my own issues with Ava even though I knew then that it was over between us. I had made the calls the week before to seek a job somewhere else besides New York. I needed to be miles away from her to somehow protect my heart.

  I was bitter and promised myself my sour mood wouldn’t affect Brad and his new bride. That I’d slap on a happy smile and appear as though my new life was marvelous.

  “Shit, my stomach feels like a pack of lions is clawing to free themselves,” Tanner said as we pulled up the driveway of our parents’ house.

  Cars lined the streets of our childhood home because the Ashby’s parties were always huge, over-the-top affairs. . Ever since we were young, Brad’s and Piper’s birthday parties were elaborate and planned to the exact minute.

  We climbed out of his rental car, and his eyes instantly looked to the backyard of the Ashby’s. He turned around, and the dismay in his features wasn’t hard to overlook. My big brother, the Olympic hopeful, was a nervous wreck about seeing the woman he’d let slip out of his hands two years prior.

  “Calm down. I’m sure she feels the same way.” I move to the trunk to retrieve my bag. “Let’s take our luggage into the house to get it over with.”

  His Adam’s apple rose and fell with a hard swallow, and his eyes wandered back to where we assumed she was.

  Tanner seemed like a lost puppy, unsure of what to do, his mind too consumed with Piper. So, he followed me into our quiet house because our parents had already gone over to the Ashby’s. We dropped our bags, and for a minute, I thought Tanner wasn’t going to come, but he inhaled a deep breath and pushed himself out the door.

  The whole way, he hemmed and hawed, the fight within himself showing.

  At that moment, I promised myself one thing. When a woman could bring that reaction out of me, she would be a keeper. If I were going through that much turmoil to see her again but still striving forward, she would be worth my love. All that made me realize was that Ava wasn’t that woman.

  “You have got to put on a front, man,” I said to Tanner as my finger reached for the bell.

  “I can’t wait until you are in my exact spot.” Tanner tried to turn this around on me.

  “That will never happen because I’ll never be the jackass who lets the love of my life slip away.”

  Tanner’s lips turned down, and for a second, I almost apologized because the guy had regretted his actions enough. He didn’t need his brother throwing it in his face.

  Before I had the opportunity to do so, Mrs. Ashby opened the door with a wide welcoming smile.

  “Boys.” She held her arms for us to come in and hug her.

  I’d known her since I was five, and with our sets of parents being best friends, she was kind of like a second mother to me.

  “Mrs. Ashby.” I stepped in first since Tanner’s feet appeared to be frozen to the stoop.

  “Look at you, Dylan. You’re a man. Are those tattoos?” She tsked with her finger waving in front of my face. “Never thought it’d be you. Brad maybe.” She laughed at her own son’s expense, but she had a point. “Everyone’s in the back. You should—”

  Just as she was about to say more, my mom turned the corner from the kitchen.

  “My babies,” she cooed, running toward us with her arms stretched out.

  As I was swarmed in my mom’s arms, I saw Tanner’s stiff arms around Mrs. Ashby. My mom let me go and moved toward Tanner, saving him from any more awkwardness. From the conversation in the car, Tanner was worried that Mrs. Ashby knew what had happened.

  Leaving him behind me, sure to have a front row seat to his and Piper’s reunion, I opened the French patio door, only to step outside to the party. Caramel eyes quickly found mine, and the panic on her face made me run up to her.

  I wrapped her in my arms, spinning us around, before setting her feet down on the ground. She was still as beautiful as I remembered from two years ago since I hadn’t come home, either having my parents coming out to me or meeting in Colorado with Tanner. Tanner had refused to come home, so we would make plans to make sure it didn’t happen.

  “Dylan, you’ve become a man . . . a very tattooed man.” Piper laughed, her fingers grazing down my full-sleeved arms.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at her wide eyes. “Yeah, well, I figured I’d never be as perfect as Tanner, so to hell with everyone.” I wished the bitterness from Ava’s nitpicking wasn’t so evident.

  Piper only tilted her head to the side. “You’re just as perfect as Tanner.”

  I shot her a wink. If it worked out and she became my sister-in-law, I’d be one lucky guy to call her family.

  “Aw, thanks, girl, but don’t lie to me.” I pulled her in for one more hug.

  Her fingers clenched my shirt, like I was her life vest in the middle of the ocean.

  Her body began to shake in my hands, and a small smile creased my lips because she was just as nervous as my brother.

  “He’s right behind me, Piper,” I informed her. My T-shirt became tighter from it being wound in her grip. “Thought I should warn you.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured into my shoulder, still not letting me go.

  “You have to let me go. Otherwise, people are going to talk about you and the McCain boys.”

  She giggled and drew back. I held her hands for a second, reassuring her with my eyes that she had this. Her head nodded, and even if she looked like tears were going to fall from her eyes, she tried to assure me that she was good. So, I let her go and concentrated on Brad and his friends.

  After fist pumps and half-body hugs, I caught a blonde from the corner of my eye. When I turned directly toward her, her eyes veered away from me, concentrating on her phone. It was an odd sensation, but I had to hear her voice. All my life, nothing like this had happened to me. From just one glance, I felt drawn to her, wanting to know her. When I’d seen her at Michigan years before, I never got to talk to her.

  My feet moved without me telling them to, and my brain told me to take the seat next to her. The oddest thing happened when I did though. I stared directly at her, and she only turned the other way, typing away on her phone.

  I was never the guy who enjoyed the chase or the challenge of getting a girl who was obviously playing a game. But with her, I couldn’t deny giving her my full attention. This seed sprouted inside me, saying she needed me. I’d never turned my back on someone.

  “Hi,” I said, earning a glance over, “I’m Dylan.”

  I held out my hand, waiting for the delicate feel of her silky skin to touch mine, as though this light would illuminate in the sky, signaling we were somehow meant to meet.

  “Bea.” She put her hand up in the air in greeting.

  “Oh, Piper’s friend, right?” I tried to spur the conversation more with my hand still out.

  She glanced down at my hand and back to my eyes. “You want to come home with me tonight?”

  My eyes must have flashed alarm. I guessed that connection I thought was going to ignite a fireball in the sky wasn’t right at all. “Sorry, did you want to have a conversation first?”

  I had to laugh because this girl couldn’t be serious, and usually, such forwardness turned me off. But, again, that nagging pulled at me, and I wanted to know why she was willing to take m
e home tonight when she didn’t even know my last name.

  “Yeah.” Her head drew back, surprise flickering in her bright hazel eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

  Bea

  I CAN’T HELP BUT STARE at the people below through the window of Dylan’s hotel room. I’m searching for something I’ll never find, a sign that others live the same hollow life I do.

  Although Dylan’s arrival at the pool was a happy surprise, I can’t help but wish he would have come a little later. I wasn’t done with pushing everything away, like I usually do. Swimming doesn’t rinse my mind. It erases my feelings. It’s probably what drew me to it in the first place.

  Once, Piper told me she swam to work through her problems. That, somehow, in her steady pace, her problems would shrink, and she’d finish her workout with a brighter outlook on life. I was so jealous of her because, for me, it was like I’d drop little rocks of my problems to the bottom of the pool. I’d forget to pick them back up and emerge out of the pool, feeling lighter. Then, when I’d dip back in, all those problems lying beneath the water would resurface to haunt me again. It’s a gut-wrenching merry-go-round, but I prefer that to therapy. I’ll never go back to that again.

  “You okay?” Dylan asks across from me.

  I nod, still searching the crowded rush hour streets. There has to be someone else out there who feels as hopeless as I do in this moment.

  “You don’t look like it.”

  My eyes flick to him, relaxed back in his chair, playing with his phone. His green eyes are haunting me because, occasionally, it’s as though they can see my deepest fears. He’s the only one who knows my act is just that—an act.

  “I’m fine.” I straighten my back in my chair and pose my fingers on my keyboard. “Let’s go. I searched their last few ads last night—”

  He holds his hand in the air and then rests it on top of my laptop. “Let’s get out of here. Explore the city.” One side of his lips perk up.

  “No, we’re on a tight deadline. We’ll work.” My fingers hammer on my keyboard to find the file I made up of their recent ad slogans.

  He shuts his own laptop, stands up, and grabs his jacket. “Come on.” He cocks his head toward the door. “You aren’t going to make me drag you, are you? I mean, technically, I am your boss on this project.”