Chapter 6 - Cole
I fish at the river at the edge of my property with my closest friend.
Ronnie and I went from drinking buddies to pool buddies to fishing buddies, and developed a real friendship about ten years ago.
He’s been through everything with me, whether I wanted him around or not.
He’s Liam’s godfather and more of an uncle to my son than anyone else.
Sofia is entertaining Liam, walking with him along the bank and pointing out turtles, cool rocks, anything she can find to entertain him. Ronnie nudges me. “She’s something alright.”
In her loose fitting, very comfortable looking shirt and her shorts, I can’t disagree. I still feel our kiss, feel it and her questions weighing on me whenever I see her. Creating distance hasn’t helped. The crush was supposed to wear off, instead it’s just knotted through my chest.
“And she’s staying with you?”
“The guest house,” I correct.
“Same shit. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of a few things you’d rather enjoy than her company,” he teases.
I narrow my eyes at him, then hear Sofia. “Oh, be careful. The water’s moving fast. The current will carry you away, little man.”
“I’m a good swimmer,” Liam argues.
“I’m sure you are, but I’m not quite as strong, so let’s stay on the beach,” she laughs.
Long legs, soft curves, and her softness doesn’t change the obvious.
There’s no way for us to be together. It’s simply not possible.
The age difference, our differing histories, the fact I have a child.
I have nothing to offer her except my guest house.
That’s the only thing that will be good for her.
“Come on, man,” Ronnie says in a softer voice. “She’d be good for you and you’d be good for her.”
I snort.
“I’m serious. She’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Ronnie says as he reals in a fish so small we have to throw it back.
“She’s been pricing businesses in town, almost pitting them against each other so they’re all lowering their prices to try to get her attention.
She’s working the bankers too. I hear them grumbling about how she seems to know all the fine print and won’t just take an answer and move forward. ”
I glance at her before my own line gets a tug. I focus on it until I hear a splash and Liam yells.
“Sofia!” His voice cracks. “Sofia, no—!”
I spin toward the sound as he runs to the edge, panic taking over. “Get up!” he yells, frantic. “Sofia, get up! Please—keep your head up!”
My eyes flash to the water where Sofia’s pushing herself up and spitting out water. The river looks gentle and shallow, but it’s at least ten feet deep and the current at the bottom is always triple what’s on top.
Ronnie’s up and out of his chair at the same time. I narrow my eyes on Sofia. “Keep Liam out of the water.”
Then I dive in. It’s that easy. I simply slip right out of my shoes and I’m in.
Sofia’s grabbing at anything she can reach, gasping and sputtering between her coughs and yelps.
She’s not exactly fighting the current, but she’s trying to save herself which is more than I can say for plenty of people. It’s not what I want to say for her.
I swim to her quickly with the current’s help and wrap an arm around her slender waist. I haul her against me and she grips my shirt like she needs it to live.
I swim diagonally to the water’s edge and power us all the way to the beach, hauling her up into my arms so her damp, shaking body presses against mine.
She pants in my ear, summoning dirty thoughts that calm my adrenaline and nearly send my mind spiraling into another vein of thought entirely.
Liam is still yelling and shouting. Ronnie’s keeping him out of the water barely.
We reach solid ground and I set Sofia down. Her knees buckle and she nearly goes down again. She’s shaking so badly I’m sure she’s about to collapse, but I catch her hands and hold her steady.
I look them over first. Aside from a few shallow scratches, they’re fine. Then I check the rest of her—her sides, her back, her neck—quick, careful, methodical.
“Does any of this hurt?” I ask.
“N-no,” she stammers, still trembling. “I d-didn’t hit anything.”
She takes another step back, putting distance between herself and the river.
Liam’s a mess. He hugs her tightly, crying. “You said it was dangerous!”
“I know. It’s ... it’s okay,” she promises.
“You could have died! Drowned! You. If dad- you-”
He’s a sobbing mess, nose red, face splotchy, heaving with every breath. Ronnie pats his shoulder, out of breath from keeping up with my son.
“I’ll take him back to the house,” he promises.
“Ice cream,” I say seriously. “And his favorite show.”
“Sure thing, man.”
“And-”
“I’ve got it. I’m the only one in town allowed to babysit for a reason, right?” Ronnie chuckles. “Take care of your girl.”
I don’t bother to correct him. I just look at Sofia. Her clothes cling to her, highlighting everything that shouldn’t matter right now, but fuck if I’m not at least as shaken as she is.
Too late. You’re too late.
“Sofia, say something please,” I whisper as I pull her closer.
“Why is the water that cold in June!” she squeaks, hugging herself tightly. “It shouldn’t be that cold or f-fast!”
I laugh once and pull her into my arms, crushing her against me. Almost lost her. The river would have swept her away, would have carried her who knows how far, never letting up, never getting shallower, only pushing her further and further down. I hate the thought, can’t stand it.
I rub her back and feel her still in my arms. Every muscle tense, on the defense.
I won’t let go. I can’t be too late, and I’ve been a fucking mess since our kiss.
I’ve wanted to hold her again, to pull her back right here, to kiss her, to lift her chin and kiss her the way I need to kiss her again.
To not pull away and pretend the rest of the shit that could bottom out between us doesn’t exist.
She’s right here. Not lost to the river, not pushing me away even though I pushed her away last time. She’s here. I lift her hand and gently kiss the scar across her finger before staring back at her. “I won’t let the river take you.”
She studies my eyes. “Okay.”
“We need to get you dry,” I say, my voice rougher than it should be. “Out of these clothes and ...”
Tangled in bed together while I savor your existence, while I run my lips and tongue over your skin, while I memorize your curves, and soften the panic I feel by worshiping you.
“Y-yeah .., we-we should do that,” she breathes, licking her bottom lip.
My restraint is too fucking close to snapping and it won’t happen here. So I pull her back into my side and walk her the half mile to the guesthouse.
She keeps shivering, moving closer, whimpering slightly. “My legs ache.”
“Swimming against the current does that,” I say, teeth gritted while trying to control myself.
“I’m freezing,” she breathes.
“Come closer,” I invite. “I’ll warm you.”
Her eyes peek up at me, big and dilated and so fucking beautiful as she exhales against my shoulder that I can feel my pulse in my dick and a new aching in my heart.
I sweep her up into my arms, too lost in her to care if Ronnie sees.
Whatever she’s doing to me is fucking working and I feel powerless to stop it.
Right now, though ... she’s alive, here, and nothing else matters.