Chapter 18 #2
He sets me down slowly and keeps his back to the water so he can keep an eye on me. That’s when I realize how close he is to the pool’s edge, and that one little push would probably do it—fair payment for all those years of throwing me in the water.
“Oh, I know about consequences.” I smile innocently up at him while stepping closer. “But I think there should be consequences for everyone.”
“What do you mean?” His brow furrows.
That’s when I launch myself at him, fully expecting one push will send him tumbling into the water.
But what I don’t anticipate is how quick his reflexes are.
Just as he loses his balance on the pool edge, he grabs my arm and we plummet into the water together with an enormous splash.
The shock of the water hits first, the sudden plunge to the bottom, but then something else takes over—his arm hooks around my waist, pulling me toward him.
Our legs tangle, our bodies press together, sending a rush through me as intense as falling.
He knows I can swim, but he’s keeping me safe as he swims to the surface.
We surface together, him holding on to me, one arm snugly around my waist. He checks my face immediately. “You okay?”
For a second, I forget how to answer. We’re so close and neither of us is making a move to put space between us.
His hand splays against my back as his eyes slowly drop to my lips.
My breath catches, and I have this sudden, slightly panicky thought that he might kiss me—followed by the even more panicky thought that I desperately want him to.
What is wrong with me?
Kissing the guy who broke my heart in high school? He’s the one who asked me to pretend this week, and pretend girlfriends don’t get kissed.
I push away from him, putting necessary space between us. “You weren’t supposed to pull me in.”
His eyes widen. “Didn’t you try to push me first?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because I wasn’t planning on—” I drag a hand through my wet hair. “—going down with you.”
His voice turns low and teasing. “Oh, Rossi. If I’m going down, you’re coming with me.”
My pulse pounds. “That’s exactly the problem,” I say quietly. “You always take me with you.”
He stares at me, my words sinking in. He knows I’m not talking about the pool anymore.
I swim toward the ladder, but he’s faster, beating me there and blocking it with his body. There’s no way I can get him to move by force—I’m like a gnat compared to him.
I give him my best intimidating glare. “Move it, Marco.”
He doesn’t budge. “You’ve only been here five minutes, if that.”
“Five minutes of my life I’ll never get back.
” Maybe that’s why he wanted me to come this morning, to relive the hours we used to spend at the beach together.
Eli was always with us, sometimes Carmen or Jaz too.
Other friends flitted in and out of our lives, but those were my people during the summer.
“Remember when we used to play Marco Polo?” he asks, like he’s reading my mind. “You always made me play it, even when I didn’t want to.”
“It was literally your name. You can’t sit out of a game called Marco Polo.”
“Well, I’m doing the same for you now. I won’t let you sit on the sidelines today. I know you don’t want to room with me, but I won’t let it ruin your week.”
I stare at him for a moment. “What are you talking about?”
“If you don’t want to do laps, I won’t make you. But we used to have fun together, remember? You, me, and Eli always hung out.”
I narrow my gaze. “So what happened between you and Eli?”
He looks away. “That’s old history, Scarlett.”
“Brendan—”
He rakes his hand through his wet hair. “I wish I’d done things differently.” His face clouds with regret. “So many things.”
“Like what?”
“You,” he whispers. “My sister’s accident came at the worst possible time.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful she survived.
That month when we didn’t know if she’d wake up was torture, and I blamed myself for not driving her home after the party.
Nothing went the way I’d planned.” He shakes his head, the regret on his face evident.
“It’s okay, Bren,” I say, my voice low. “I’m over it.”
He studies me, his brow furrowing. “Over…”
“What happened between us.” I pause, knowing this isn’t the truth, but what he needs to hear. “We were young, right?” I shrug, pretending it was nothing, even though to me that kiss was everything.
“It never would have worked. My world was a coffee shop on the other side of town.” I gesture at this gorgeous pool around us. “And your world was this.”
His frown deepens as his expression grows darker. “You really think it matters where you’re from? You think I even care about that?”
“It’s probably for the best. We both know it.”
He doesn’t look relieved. Why? I’m giving him the out he’s been wanting all these years.
Instead, he looks like I just sucker-punched him.
Without another word, he turns and swims across the pool, putting as much distance between us as possible.
“Wait, I thought we were swimming together?” I call as he climbs out and grabs his towel.
“Some other time,” he says without looking back, then strides out the door, leaving me treading water.
I let out a breath. At least one of us can move on from that night. I just wish it were me.