Chapter 23
twenty-three
. . .
RORY
I walk over and grab the blanket off the back of the couch to cover Summer.
“It’s just underwear.” I can tell she’s trying to shrug it off, but secretly she wants to melt into the floor.
“You’re kind of…on display.” I motion to her chest without dropping my eyes there.
Her eyes widen, and she pulls the blanket tighter around her.
“Oh my god, did they see?”
I want to reassure her, but there’s no doubt that they did. It was the first thing my eyes had connected with when I walked in the door. Those tight nipples pressed against the soft cotton of her tank top.
I wonder if there’s a medical spa service for extracting the image of my wife’s nipples from these guys’ brains. I’d spare no expense for that procedure.
“Possibly.”
If it were me walking in alone, I’d chuckle, but there’s nothing funny about my teammates seeing my wife half naked.
“We didn’t see anything,” Charlie says, covering his eyes.
“That’s a lie.” Logan claps. “Encore!”
I glare at him and his clapping dies mid-beat.
After a tough practice, I’d been slow to shower and the guys had gotten to my house before me. I’d texted Summer, but it’s clear she didn’t get the message.
“What? I like to dance around in my underwear, too.” Logan motions to Eli. “Eli’s seen me before.”
Eli shakes his head. “Unfortunately, yeah.”
Logan keeps talking. It’s what he does in these situations. “Most people don’t realize air guitar is all in the wrist, but man, you nailed it.”
Eli holds up the bags in his hands. “We brought dinner. It’s a Tuesday night tradition.”
“Oh, shit. Do you think because Summer’s here now, Tuesday nights aren’t taco night anymore?” Charlie asks.
“Fuck that. I’m eating those tacos and I’m eating them while they’re warm,” Logan growls. Snatching a bag out of Eli’s hand, he walks over to the dining table, dumps the bags’ contents on the table, unwraps a taco and yells, “Let’s feast!”
I’m about to tell Logan to collect his tacos and get the fuck out of my house when Summer clicks off the record player, then disappears down the hallway. She’s my priority, so I follow her into the bedroom.
“I’m sorry about the guys barging in. They’ve always walked in unannounced. They should have knocked.”
“Yeah, that would have been nice.” She drops the blanket on the bed, then reaches in a drawer to pull out her work skirt. Before I can stop myself, my gaze trails down the back of her legs. Those tan, toned legs that already had me off my game at the courthouse.
I drag my eyes away. I need to stop eye-fucking my fake wife.
This isn’t high school, and she’s not some crush I can’t stop staring at. She’s Summer. Independent, untouchable Summer.
And she’s trusting me. The least I can do is pretend I’m not undressing her with my eyes.
“Logan is moodier than I remember him being.”
“Yeah, he gets cranky when he’s hungry.” I motion toward the noise my friends are making in the living room. “I can tell them to go.”
“No, don’t. It’s tradition. You guys had all this going on before I came into the picture and I don’t expect anything to change.”
“But things are different now.” The words fall from my mouth without a thought.
Summer blinks ups at me. “We got married six hours ago. They shouldn’t be. You guys can pretend like I’m not here.”
I keep my focus on her face, ignoring the hot-blooded instinct to drop my gaze to her chest where her nipples are still pebbled beneath her tank top.
“That’s impossible.”
“It shouldn’t be. Isn’t that the goal of our arrangement? To keep your routine?”
I lean against the bathroom doorway, watching her pull her wavy locks into a ponytail. My eyes scan the length of her, stopping at the curve of her ass.
She clears her throat. “I can see you in the mirror.”
“The rules never said anything about not looking at you.”
“Maybe they should.” She turns to face me and now she’s right there.
“I liked seeing you like that.”
“Like what?” She crosses her arms defensively. She thinks I’m talking about her being braless.
“Carefree. Content.”
It was the same version of Summer I saw a few nights ago when she was eating her burger and making little sighs of satisfaction.
I’d mentioned it to her then, and now the same look she gave me that night is sliding over her features. It’s like she thinks she’s in trouble for enjoying life. For being happy.
But while I’d enjoyed her display of joy and contentment, I’d been caught off guard by the possessiveness I’d felt.
“I’ve got to admit, I didn’t like the guys seeing you like that.”
“Why?” she asks, her breath hitching.
“Because you’re my wife .”
“Your fake wife,” she reminds me.
“Still mine,” I say. It’s half a joke, but I feel the truth of it in my gut.
She narrows her eyes at me.
It’s another silent standoff, like the one in her van last week. Another conversation of me wanting to protect her while she asserts her independence. I like it more than I should.
She’s the first to break eye contact. Brushing past me without a word.
I follow her lead, the tension between us crackling but unspoken as we head out to the living room where the guys are packing up the tacos Logan unceremoniously dumped on the table.
“We can leave now,” Finn says. “Logan ate five tacos which should be enough to sustain him for the drive home.”
Summer shakes her head. “You guys stay. I have to leave for work anyway.”
“Thanks for letting us stay,” Charlie says, chowing down on a taco. “We figured with what happened at practice Rory would need taco night.”
“What happened at practice?” Summer asks, turning her attention back to me.
“Nothing,” I’m quick to say.
“Connor Fisk showed up,” Logan says, sounding far less combative now that he’s buried in tacos.
“Who’s Connor Fisk?” she asks.
When Logan goes to answer her question, I give him a sharp nod.
“Just a guy on the team,” Logan says before starting to inhale another taco.
It’s not that I don’t want Summer to know about Connor, but now is not the time.
“Can I give you a ride to work?” I ask, watching her slip on her tennis shoes and grab her purse off the hook by the door.
“Stay in your lane, Shields,” she says, reaching for the door handle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I call to her retreating back.
“You’re the swimmer, you should know.” She waves without looking back.
I know what it means, but where Summer’s concerned, it doesn’t feel like an option.
Logan places his key to my house in my palm.
“We still know the front door code,” Charlie says.
“Thanks for the reminder to change that, too.”
“Can we still come over for Madden Mondays?” Xio asks. He’s nineteen and the youngest on the team. He’s like a little brother to most of us, eager to hang out and for the most part, takes our teasing in stride.
“Yes, but you’ll have to knock.”
His face lights up at the knowledge that our team gatherings aren’t changing.
“This feels like a breakup,” Charlie says, removing his key from his keyring.
“Why’d you have to go and ruin everything by getting married?” Logan pouts.
“You know why,” I mutter.
“But if it’s for show, then Summer’s more like a roommate, right?” Xio asks.
“You told him?” I direct my question to Logan.
While I’d told Eli, Logan, and Charlie about my arrangement with Summer, I didn’t plan to share the details with the entire team.
“Actually, I told him.” Finn nods from the chair where he’s got his nose in his phone.
“Who told you?” I ask.
“Shit. He must have overheard Eli and me talking about it.”
Finn smirks, his eyes still focused on his phone. “If I had a roommate that looked like Summer, we’d be fucking.”
Logan lets out a low whistle and Eli flicks Finn on the back of the head before I reach out and yank his phone out of his hands.
“What the—” Finn looks up at me.
My eyes sharpen on him. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Oh, shit.” His eyes widen with the realization that he spoke before his brain even processed what it was saying. “Sorry,” he mumbles, sinking farther into the chair.
“Rory and Summer’s relationship is off limits,” Eli announces. “We’re a team and we support each other.”
“And if we find out you’re talking about them, you’ll be sent to Spruce to get your asshole waxed,” Logan chimes in.
“Wait—what?” Xio blurts, panic creeping into his voice.
“It’s a special brand of torture that will help you remember to keep your mouth shut.”
“Why your asshole?” Finn asks.
“Because it hurts like hell, that’s why.” There’s an annoyed edge to Logan’s voice.
“How do you know?” Xio asks.
Logan shakes his head. “No more questions.”
“You said we’re a team.” Xio motions to the group. “What about Connor? Are we supposed to hate this guy or just ignore him?”
After practice, I’d sat in the ice bath to help with my knee and shoulder stiffness. Making sure Connor knew his place had made me train harder than I would have normally. When Coach had us at eighty-percent, I was giving close to one-hundred. It’s not sustainable but I needed to set a precedent today.
Even if I have nothing to prove, Connor joining the Current is a punch-in-the-gut reminder that everything’s changing, and my time in the pool might be running out.
“Yeah. What do you want us to do about Connor?” Charlie asks.
“Still can’t believe he showed up. And that Coach agreed to train him,” Logan says.
Eli grabs a taco from the pile. “I can’t speak for Owens but he must see something in the guy.”
“He’s a phenomenal swimmer,” Xio says, his gaze far-off like he’s starstruck. “His Paris swim for the two-hundred individual medley was flawless.”
Logan nods. “Shitty character and self-centered, but Xio’s right, there’s no debating his skill.”
With all the back-and-forth comments, I finally respond. “You guys don’t have to ice him out on my account.”
Logan shakes his head. “We won’t have to do anything, Connor is a lone wolf, he’ll keep to himself.”
Logan is right. Connor’s career has been built off his egoism. He’s always put himself first, disregarding how his actions affect others. While swimming is an individual sport, the grueling training and strict lifestyle makes it important to have a support system and team that you can rely on. Owens mentioned that Connor was looking for a team dynamic, but unless he changes how he interacts with others, he’s not going to benefit from the close-knit training group we have at the Current. And while I’m the team captain and enjoy helping others, I put my effort and mentorship into Connor once and I got burned.
Xio sighs.
“What’s going on, kid?” I ask.
He wrings his hands together. “I’m worried about my spot on the four-by-one-hundred freestyle relay. With Connor here, I know he’ll knock me off the relay team.”
Logan smirks. “Don’t you worry about that. Connor doesn’t do relays.”
Xio tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
I turn to Xio. “Logan’s right. He could anchor any relay team he wanted but he never does.”
“Why?” Finn asks, joining the conversation.
“Lone wolf,” Logan responds, still chowing down on his taco.
“So even though he could medal with all of the relay teams, he chooses not to?” Finn questions.
Their confusion is warranted. It doesn’t make sense to not lend your talent to a relay team, but that’s just another thing that bugs the hell out of me about Connor. And another reason why I’m dumbfounded that he joined the Current.
We finish the tacos, all sixty of them, then after a few games of Madden, the guys leave.
Once they’re gone, I pull Edgar into my lap, then check my email, before responding to some questions Vivi has for my social media. I send her a picture of me and Summer from the courthouse ceremony. My arm around Summer’s waist while she’s staring up at me with a soft grin. It had been right before I kissed her. Right before everything shifted and I realized I was in way deeper than I meant to be.
I drop my phone and let my eyes close.
Even half-asleep on the couch, all I can think about is the way she looked at me today, and how damn much I want to see that look again.