Chapter Twenty-Seven Ren
Ren kicked off her shoes and looked over at him. “Turn around.”
Brow sweaty, breaths ragged, Edward slowly lowered his water bottle and gazed at her with concern. “Turn around why?”
Gesturing out to the lake ahead of them, Ren communicated the answer in her expression: Isn’t it obvious? After making all the unnecessary noises of someone who unknowingly missed a birthday, Edward had asked what she wanted to do. She’d admitted she’d never really celebrated her birthday before, not in a way that mattered, so she had no idea. Sitting at a sidewalk café, they’d searched his phone for local options: Centennial Park, the Country Music Hall of Fame, a distillery visit, the Grand Ole Opry, or even a tractor tour. But when a series of stunning photos for Harpeth River State Park popped up in the browser, Ren was sold.
It took some work to get there, but after a winding hike over a deserted trail, the trees had finally parted, revealing a wide blue lake. Apparently, it was once a quarry but in the 1930s the bottom was sealed, the water filtered, and the area became a resort. But at the beginning of World War II, it closed, the buildings left to decay without human interference. Now, the swimming hole was completely secluded, closed in by steep rock walls and leggy trees that blocked the view from anyone standing on the ledge above.
To Ren, it was the perfect spot for a swim.
“But we don’t have suits,” he said slowly.
“Do we need them?”
“Generally, people who aren’t routinely naked together wear suits when swimming, yes.”
She smiled at him. “We have underwear, you know. We can swim in that.”
“To be clear,” he said, turning his back to her with a lingering grin, “I wasn’t complaining.”
Relief washed over her; it was unseasonably warm, in the low eighties, and after the steep hike where she’d had a near-constant view of the flexing and bunching of Edward’s muscular thighs, she felt overheated and jittery. Thankfully they’d brought enough drinking water, and they’d just devoured the lunch of sandwiches and chips they’d picked up at a deli on the drive over, but the idea of diving into the calm, deep blue water made her feel like she’d had another two glasses of champagne.
Quickly, she unbuttoned her shorts and kicked them off. Her top was next. She folded them both and set them on a rock at the edge, then looked down at herself, dressed in only her simple bra and panties. They covered as much as her swimsuit, so that was fine, but she didn’t have anything to change into, and she didn’t relish the idea of driving back in wet underwear or walking through the busy hotel lobby braless.
She glanced at Edward’s back. “I’m taking my undies off, too,” she told him.
His spine stiffened. “Oh, so we’re doing the full monty.”
“I don’t know what that means, but if it means fully naked, then yes.” Unfastening her bra, she slipped it and her underwear off before tucking them both inside her shorts.
At the edge, she dipped a toe in. It was surprisingly warm and clear, and any lingering hesitancy slipped away. With a tiny yelp, she waded in a few steps before steeling herself and taking the plunge.
“Oh my God,” she groaned as cool water slipped over every inch of her skin. She ducked under and kicked until she was farther out. When she surfaced again, Edward was still facing away. “I’m covered now.”
He turned slowly, as if unsure of what he might see. She was submerged from her neck down, but she grinned at him and waved. “You coming in?”
The water lapped at the edge of the meager beach, a breeze rustled the trees overhead, wood creaked under the weight of lush branches. All of them awaiting his decision.
He drew circles in the air with his index finger, playfully indicating that it was her turn to look away now. Her laugh echoed in the stillness, bouncing back to them, but she did, moving to face the opposite shore. Ren continued to tread water, and as the breeze settled and quiet fell, she was vaguely aware of his shoes landing with a thunk against a fallen log, a zipper drawn down, the rustle of fabric, and the soft scratch of feet moving along the sandy shore. She thought she heard him stop at the edge, testing the temperature. She was about to tell him to stop being such a baby when there was a large splash and the call of birds as they scattered from the trees overhead.
She briefly imagined him swimming to her below the surface, wrapping his arms around her hips and then her torso before pressing his naked body to hers.
“Okay,” he said from somewhere behind her. “I’m in.”
She turned to see him about ten feet away. His hair was slicked back and darker when it was wet, brown eyes greener and framed by spiky lashes. Water ran down his face and neck and pooled in the hollows of his collarbones. He was blushing to the tips of his ears.
“Doesn’t it feel amazing?”
“Amazing is one word. Freezing is another.”
“You call this freezing?”
“There are definitely parts of my body that find this lake water offensively cold.” She stared at him, confused, and he laughed, swimming in circles around her. “You know, there are easier ways to get me naked, Sunshine.”
“It’s a little foggy, but I think I was trying to last night.”
Edward laughed at this. “So you were.”
She splashed him, and he splashed her back until they were in a full-on water fight where he was at an advantage, being able to rise and show his whole torso out of the water. Her hair covered most of her bare chest, but as he advanced, wave after wave of water towering over her pathetic attempts, she decided she didn’t care anymore and went all out, shoving water forward as powerfully as she could until she didn’t care what else he might see. Laughing, he covered his eyes. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Do you give up?”
“Yes,” he cried, laughing, “because if you keep going like that I won’t want to blink, and all that water hurts my eyes.”
They seemed to realize in unison that his hand was wrapped loosely around her wrist, keeping her from splashing him, and they were so close that her forearm rested against his chest. With the gentlest swell, the current could bump her into him, sending all of her bare skin right up against his.
“We can stand here,” he said, and planted his feet, his chest rising several inches out of the water, which, when she stood, lapped gently at her chin. Trying to quell the vibrating hum beneath her skin, she spent a few seconds appreciating his broad shoulders as he breathed rapidly, catching his breath.
When she dragged her focus up his neck and higher, she found him watching her with an intensity he immediately wiped away. In a blink, his expression returned to his trademark breezy playfulness. “How does this compare to your swimmin’ hole back home?”
“About ten times larger, but far fewer trout.”
He shuddered.
“We stock the pond,” she explained. “There are so many, I can catch them barehanded.”
“That is…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what that is.”
“I believe the words you’re looking for are impressive, athletic, superhuman.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, laughing. “All of those.”
“From about June to late August, I swim every day.”
“By yourself?”
“Usually.”
“Doesn’t that get lonely? Or at least boring?”
Ren shrugged under the water’s surface. “If you’re raised with lots of things—people, money, games, distractions—it’s hard to live without them. But if you’re raised simply, the way I was, that’s all you know. That’s all there is.”
The reality of her life back home suddenly pressed down like a rain cloud.
“You haven’t talked about them much the last couple days,” he said quietly. “But I know you’re thinking about your parents a lot.”
Ren looked up at him. She was, and she wasn’t. Edward seemed to take up every corner of her mind these days, but the silent, pulsing heartbeat in the background was her parents, Christopher Koning, the mystery of it all, the truth she hoped to find.
“I know my parents will always be there for me. Or I hope they will, even if I don’t always do things the way they would want me to. But being away from home has made me realize how much more there is for me out here. That I can love being out in the world and love being on our land, too.” She felt his attention on her as she tilted her face to the sky, closing her eyes. “But, wow, do I love our land. During the summer, I swim at night, and I’ll float on my back, just staring up at the stars. You wouldn’t believe how many you can see out there, where there’s no city lights. I spend all day working my tail off, just so excited for the reward of getting into the pond and staring up at the stars.”
“Is that why you draw fireworks around everything?”
She looked at him in surprise, having forgotten he’d seen her drawings. “No. I’ve always drawn those. My earliest memory is standing in a field, and there’s a big crowd of people. I’m holding a sparkler in one hand, and it feels overwhelming until a big hand comes around mine and all of my worries go away. I hold my sparkler up and stare at the sky behind it, exploding in fireworks.”
“Whose hand was it?”
“I don’t know. I always assumed it was Steve’s, but we’ve never set off fireworks. To him, it would be like lighting your money on fire. Also, I can’t remember him ever holding my hand.” She inhaled slowly as hope seemed to balloon in her throat. Another life unfolding. “When I got those results back…”
“You thought it might be a memory. With Christopher Koning.”
“Yeah. That night…It was magical. The flowerworks seemed to go on forever. It’s like I can still see them when I close my eyes. I dream the sky is full of them.”
“They’re beautiful, Ren.”
Her stomach warmed with the compliment. “Thank you.” She stepped forward, setting a hand on his chest. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Edward frowned, glancing down at the water lapping gently against her fingers, his chest. He seemed to sense the transition in her, the suggestion that they could stop talking for a little while.
“You know, what we were talking about back there,” he said, tilting his head closer to shore. “About how I stopped us from going too far last night…”
She waited, but her heart did an uncomfortable stutter, watching him piece together the words.
“I don’t want you to regret anything after this trip,” he said, finally, and the intensity seeped back into his eyes. “From blackmail to a sort of truce to hot-tub kissing to voluntarily sharing a bed…It’s been a wild ride for me—I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”
“Wild is one word for it,” she agreed, laughing.
“I don’t want you to jump into anything you’d look back on and wish you hadn’t done.”
“Like what?”
“Having sex with me,” he said bluntly, and heat flashed across her skin.
“What about falling for you?”
“Oh.” He swallowed, wincing. “That too, I guess.”
She made herself maintain eye contact, even though her hand was trembling on his skin. “I won’t deny that I have feelings for you. And I don’t know how they compare to what’s normal because I’ve never done this before. But I know my heart well enough to know that I won’t fall in love with someone I don’t know very well. And I barely know anything about you yet.” She blinked down, distracted by the bob of his throat when he swallowed. “I do know that we’re from very different worlds. You were raised in a rich family, and I—”
“About that,” he said, cutting in gently. “I think you have the wrong idea about me. I think,” he amended in a rush, “I’ve let you have the wrong idea.”
“What do you mean?”
He pushed away, swimming backward and then returning, but still staying several feet from where he’d been. Keeping some distance. He tilted his face to the sky. “I’m at Corona on a scholarship, just like you.”
“A scholarship? Why do you need a scholarship?”
“I’m not the biological child of Robert Fitzsimmons.” Finally, he looked at her again. “I didn’t even meet him until I was fourteen. I was fifteen when he adopted me.”
Shock sent a numbing wave down her body. She didn’t know how to react. “What?”
“There’s so much more I want to tell you,” he said quietly, coming closer until he was standing in front of her again. “I’ve wanted to for so long…you don’t even know.” He set his hands on her shoulders and slid them underwater down her arms until he took her hands in his. “It’s okay if you’re not sure you want to fall for me, but I think I want to fall for you.” His words pulsed between them, sending ripples through her veins. “Unfortunately, I’ve never been good at talking about my past—I’ve never tried. Out loud.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone who knows me at school knows me as Robert Fitzsimmons’s son. They all assume that I was born rich, and I’ve let them. Every teacher, every roommate, every friend.” He paused. “Every girlfriend.”
Her stomach turned sour, and he studied her expression.
“I never wanted to tell anyone the truth, because people look at you differently when you’re a kid raised in the foster system, who’s adopted by a rich guy so he can get some good press.”
Ren frowned. “‘Some good press?’”
“It’s not important right now.” He squeezed her hands. “I’m telling you this because I’ve never liked someone the way I like you.” He delivered this with a flirtatious smile that he tried to hold on to, but it loosened into a grimace. “Which means that I want you to know the truth, but as you already know, I’m really bad at talking about stuff. Even thinking about telling you everything makes me feel sort of panicked.” He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “If I tell you and you don’t like me, then you don’t like me. Not just the story I made up.”
“I don’t mean to pressure you,” she said. “I’m not in a hurry. I just want to know you. It doesn’t have to happen right away if I know that you’re trying. That you want to be…” She couldn’t seem to get the rest out.
That he wanted to be with her.
“I do,” he said, picking it up anyway.
“Even when we get back to school?”
His brow furrowed, like he didn’t understand. “Of course. You think I only want you in secret?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to assume.”
“With me,” he said steadily, “assume. Assume I want you. Assume if I’m actually saying it that it’s real.” He bent a little, so their eyes were level. “But I’ve done some bad things, Ren. Some really shitty things. It’s hard to feel like I deserve good things. And you…you’re the best thing.”
“Have you been in trouble with the police?”
A sad smile flickered over his lips. “Define trouble.”
She knew him. He was good all the way down to the marrow of his bones. “Have you killed anyone? Assaulted someone? Held someone at knifepoint?”
Edward pulled back, quickly shaking his head. “Ren—”
“Traded organs on the black market? Posted racist tirades on social media?”
A tiny smile. “Uh, no.”
“Abandoned puppies at the side of the road?”
“I might be an asshole sometimes, but I’m not a monster.”
“Then whatever it is,” she said, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss, “I can handle it. I just want to be with you.”