23. Sage
SAGE
There was water in both of his ears, the pads of his fingers were deeply wrinkled, and the night air had a considerable chill, but Sage was determined to force Conrad to be the one to end their lesson.
He knew he could just as easily have Conrad’s arms around him in the soft, dry comfort of the bed they’d been sharing.
It would be nothing like what was happening at the lake, though, with Conrad’s hands gliding over his skin in the water that had become too dark to see beneath.
The flickering glow of the lantern from the end of the dock helped only a little; mostly it was the stars that made it possible for them to see anything at all.
And Sage wanted to see everything. He wanted to see the lines on Conrad’s forehead as he focused hard on helping Sage stay afloat.
He wanted to see when the scant light did catch in Conrad’s brown eyes, and when he smiled over Sage’s success in staying relaxed a few seconds longer than he had the time before.
Once it was decided that Sage had spent enough time on his back—not nearly enough time, Sage thought—Conrad encouraged him out into water that was a little deeper until only Sage’s shoulders were above the surface and Conrad could no longer reach the bottom.
He was all the more fortunate for it. Despite Wyndham’s declaration that it was a lake, and Roger’s explanation of the difference between them, Sage made a face at all the unknown plantlife his feet were tangled in.
“Whatever I am currently standing in is downright offensive,” Sage muttered, shuffling uneasily from one foot to the other.
“Encouragement enough for you to tread water?”
Conrad made it look effortless. He moved his arms just enough to keep his chin above the water, and somehow even with all the motion he remained in one place. The gentle ripples he was making washed against Sage’s shoulders and chest. Slowly, he put his arms out to match what Conrad was doing.
“Like this?”
His heart was beating so hard he was certain that Conrad could hear it.
“Keep your fingers close together so you can push at the water.” Conrad lifted one hand out of the water to demonstrate.
Sage showed one of his own to mirror the action.
“Perfect. Have you ever seen a bird fly from the surface of a pond? A duck or goose?” Sage nodded.
“Imagine you’re trying to do the same. Not so quickly, of course, but think of the way they’re lifting into the air. That’s how you’ll move your arms.”
Sage scowled, his shoulders slumping. “You’re having me on.”
“I am not!” Conrad argued with a laugh. “You see I’m doing the same.”
He was. With a groan, Sage relented and moved his arms at his sides, feeling every bit a fool as his companion watched. “Better?”
“Splendid,” Conrad confirmed. “The only thing left to do is pick up your feet. Do you want to give it a try?”
“Not in the slightest,” Sage whinged pitifully. “How are you supposed to catch me when you cannot even stand here?”
“I’ve got you, Sage.”
The words made his magic flutter in his chest just as much the second time as they had the first. Even if there had ever been another man to tell him such a thing, he wouldn’t have believed it.
It would have been another empty promise whispered hotly against the back of his neck. He’d had his fair share of those.
This was not one of those promises.
“I trust you.”
His admission ripped through him, turning his stomach. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut against how feeble it left him. Likely not the best state to be in whilst trying a new skill. Sage turned his focus back to Conrad and gave a small nod.
“Remember to relax, all right?” Conrad moved a little closer. “Keep moving your arms just as we practiced. Good. Now, let yourself sink as though you’re getting down on your knees.”
Sage snorted. “Oh, I’m rather good at that one, actually.”
He expected some sort of sly response, the kind he was used to with such a suggestive remark, but he did not get one.
Instead, it was perhaps the worst thing he could’ve said, because suddenly his focus was not on learning to swim but on something else entirely.
As he wondered if Conrad had ever asked someone to get on their knees that way before, Sage’s head slipped beneath the water.
There was hardly time to panic. He resurfaced with a gasp and threw his arms around Conrad’s neck, who had kept his promise and grabbed him before Sage even realized what he’d done.
One arm was wrapped tightly around his back as Conrad used the other to pull them through the water closer to the dock until he could reach the bottom and support Sage’s weight.
“Sorry,” Sage breathed into the space between his arm and Conrad’s neck, chest heaving. His hair was plastered to his forehead and dripping into his eyes, but he didn’t dare let go to brush it away.
“You forgot to move your arms,” Conrad told him flatly, though there was still something playful in his tone.
“I never was a very good student.”
“Oh, now you tell me.”
This was what finally pulled a laugh from Conrad, but it was nearly too much. With their chests flush, Sage could feel the way Conrad’s entire body moved with it, which came as no surprise. The man was carved from nothing but muscle and joy.
Sage thought of the way he had demonstrated both so effortlessly when he’d jumped from the tree earlier, impressing everyone as he showed off more than just his daring feat.
Torquil, Roger, and Keelan had continued to give him pointed looks all afternoon, waggling their eyebrows and nodding approvingly.
It was all so peculiar, and not just because he’d never had…
friends to tease him about such things, but also because he and Conrad had an arrangement.
Granted, it seemed to be working incredibly well, but the fact remained that Sage could already no longer determine where the charade ended and his true feelings began.
These lessons were doing little to help the situation.
Sage knew there was no reason for him to still be wrapped around Conrad, clinging to his neck like a scared child.
He knew, and yet he remained, nose pushed lightly against Conrad’s clammy skin, breathing in the smell of him mixed with the earthy, slightly rotten scent he’d accidentally stirred up from the bottom of the lake.
Before the urge to press his lips against Conrad’s neck overwhelmed him, he reluctantly found his footing again and tried to pull away.
“You know,” Conrad said thoughtfully, “swimming alone is never recommended.” Sage was stunned to discover that the strong arms around him did not loosen. “Maybe it’s best that we remain together.”
The tips of Sage’s ears burned as he cautiously slid his arms back around Conrad’s shoulders and settled there.
“That seems wise,” Sage agreed quietly, biting his bottom lip to suppress a grin. When one of Conrad’s hands moved to the sway of his lower back, he finally let himself relax the way he’d been trying all night and brought his legs up around Conrad’s hips, locking his ankles.
Entirely unprompted, Sage delved into an explanation about how he wasn’t truly a poor student, only that he’d never cared enough to try very hard.
Attractive boys and naughty tricks had been far more entertaining.
Conrad lamented over how, even if he had wanted to find himself distracted by such things, he had no opportunity with his homeschooling.
Sage was unable to imagine such a scenario and asked Conrad to tell him more about it.
Their conversation meandered through countless topics, each of them sharing pieces of their lives, until a shiver took Sage by surprise. He hadn’t realized how cold he was. Tiny bumps lined both of his arms where his damp skin touched the night air.
“It seemed warmer when all of you were having your fun earlier,” Sage offered as Conrad made a meager attempt to warm him by sliding both hands up and down his back. That would most certainly do the trick in another, drier situation.
“It was. Not much, but the sunshine helped.” Conrad’s hands stopped on his shoulder blades. “We should probably return to the house.”
Sage sighed and leaned away from Conrad. The chill rushed in, stealing what little heat they’d managed to trap between themselves, and Sage fought another shiver. He focused on tangling his fingers together behind Conrad’s neck instead.
“Hopefully one of the staff will be available to rekindle the fire in our room. The last thing I want to hear is anyone complaining about one or both of us falling ill and spoiling all the fun.”
“If only I had some of my own ingredients,” Conrad said, almost abashedly. “I would do it for us, if I could.”
Sage’s brows went up as his expression softened into a grin, tilting his head to one side. “Now who is the savior?”
“It’s entirely selfish, really. You seem like the type of person to make recovering from an illness a rather tedious process. I would hate that for us.”
Sage’s gasp of offense quickly turned into a bubble of laughter.
“You cruel man,” he scolded. They were both grinning like fools.
“Only a guess,” Conrad said with a shrug. “Am I incorrect?”
Sage leaned forward to rest his forehead against Conrad’s, his hands moving to either side of his neck.
“I believe I am a rather tedious person,” he admitted. “Difficult. I have a propensity for moping.” Sage closed his eyes. He had long since accepted these things to be true. It was all he’d ever been told.
“Sage.” His name was Conrad’s exhale. “You are wonderful .”