Chapter 10 #3
“Not a problem.” He shrugs, somehow still relaxed despite holding an entire human being—aka, me—on his back.
I know I’m small, but he literally doesn’t seem to be straining at all and something about that just pisses me off.
How dare he be so casual, so unaffected, when every inch of me feels on fire, hot enough I’m worried flames might literally sprout down my arms at any moment.
I mean, the absolute gall. “They’re both just so dramatic,” he continues, his even tone making me want to scream.
“I don’t see how they could possibly get together without blowing up all our lives. ”
“Hmm,” Willa mutters. I can’t tell if it’s a concession or a refutation, but she changes the subject anyway. “So, Grant, survival camp? Have you been holding out on us? Tell me everything you know.”
I listen to their conversation as we walk, as if that might drown out the thunderous pounding of my heart, or the heat of Nox’s skin, or the growing burn deep in my stomach.
We don’t say another word to each other until we reach the dorms. Grant offers to carry Willa up the stairs due to her ankle, but when Nox moves to follow, I try to jostle myself free.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s not a problem, Clara.”
God, the way he says my name makes me feel as though an invisible hand has a viselike grip around my heart. “Really, Nox, please.”
I wriggle and writhe against his back.
“Fine,” he mutters. Then, when I don’t stop, “Fine!”
He drops my legs as if they’re diseased.
I dangle from his neck for a moment, doing what must be a rather impressive impersonation of a hooked fish until his hands come back to palm my waist. With his help, I slowly slide down his spine until my toes touch the ground.
The air feels cold when I step back. His shoulders flex, the ripple of his skin in the lamplight mesmerizing.
“Thank you,” I mutter—because believe it or not, I actually can be the bigger person sometimes. “For carrying me home and for your shirt. I’ll wash it, I swear, I—”
“Don’t bother. I have ten more just like it.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I wait for him to say something—anything—else. He doesn’t.
“Good night, Nox.”
“Good night,” he murmurs, not bothering to turn around and look me in the eyes.
So much for an olive branch.
With a soft exhale, I turn toward my dorm.
Just as I’m reaching for the handle, he calls out, “Hey, Clara.”
I spin.
He’s still standing there, in the same spot I left him, an expression I can’t read across his face. It looks almost sad, but the shadows must be playing tricks on me. “What?”
“If you let go of the rail tomorrow, I’ll tell you what I said to Danny.”
It takes a moment for his meaning to click. Tomorrow’s Saturday. He’s talking about the pool. I made it all the way off the final step last week, but I still can’t quite bring myself to drop the safety net of the metal bar and wade freely into the water.
Fear digs talons into my skin. “I’m not ready.”
He grins, wiping whatever I thought I saw from his face, bringing the cocky swimmer back full force. “Then I guess you don’t want it badly enough.”
He turns around.
“Nox!”
Nothing.
“Nox!”
He opens the door and disappears into his dorm. When I walk into the pool the next morning, he’s already there. He stops mid-stroke as the door slams loudly shut and lifts his head from the water, homing in on my location before my defenses are fully erected.
He doesn’t say a word. He just slides his gaze to the railing and then continues with his lap. I take a deep breath.
You can do this.
You can do this.
You can fucking do this, Clara Hayes. Woman up!
I don’t. I make it off the final step, and stay there for about twenty minutes, willing myself to just let go.
But it’s as if my fingers are disconnected from my brain, and no amount of shouting will loosen the reins of my terror.
The railing is my safety net, my tether to land, the one thing keeping the monster in the deep from dragging me down.
Nox watches me the entire time. I’m not sure how I know, I just do. Sure, he’s doing his laps beneath the watchful eye of his coach, but under the water, his gaze is on me.
I can’t look at him as I slip out of the pool.
“My offer still stands when you’re ready,” he calls out as I leave.
It takes two more Saturdays before I finally find the courage to let go.
It only lasts for about thirty seconds, but I do it.
And when I look across the pool, the thrill of victory already widening my cheeks, Nox is treading water, watching me.
I race up the stairs and speed-walk down the deck to his lane, getting there just as he’s emerging from the pool.
Water glides down his bare chest, the lights reflecting on every honed plane of his skin.
I arch my head back, forcing my gaze to his face.
Water droplets land on my cheeks as he whips his dark hair from his forehead.
“What’d you say?” I demand. A smirk crosses over his lips. I furrow my brow. “What. Did. You. Say?”
“I told Danny you were a virgin.”
I push my palms into his glorious chest and shove. Nox’s laughter rings out as he falls back into the pool, disappearing with a loud splash.
“I’m joking!” he calls. “Clara! Come back! I’ll tell you the truth.”
I lift my middle finger high in the air and push my way through the door.