I hated that voice. The inner niggling that made me feel like shit.
I slipped out of my dress and positioned the neck float around me, gripping it tight.
All right. Let’s do this.
Standing by the edge of the stairs, I took a deep breath and lowered myself onto the first step. The water felt warm around my ankles. I lifted my foot and drew a figure eight. Ripples danced across the surface of the pool.
It’s not so bad.
I took the next step. This time the water rose to my knees.
Okay. Good enough. Let’s just wave and say hello to the rest of the pool from here.
I sat on the step and let the water flow around my navel. It was a total Instagram moment, sitting in the pool with the sea around me and the night sky above. Except the stiff blue float around my neck was ruining the coolness factor.
I dipped lower, sliding my butt onto the next step and gasped. The water lapped around my shoulders now, a little too close to my nose and mouth.
Turns out swimming is ten times worse than an ex who won’t go away. Normally when you don’t like something, you move away from it. Or, with that persistent ex, you slap a restraining order. But there’s no restraining water. It’s fluid and it comes at you from all directions—no shape, no form, nothing you can shove or knee or pepper-spray to defend yourself. So, this thing between Mr. Pool and me? I didn’t see it happening. Still, like a bad date, I decided to grin and bear it. Well, not grin. Because my lips were clenched tight. Not a drop of water was getting through.
“Go back up one step.” I jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice.
“Dammit, Alex. I could have drowned!” I glared at him as I stood in waist-deep water. “How long have you been there?” I was pretty sure he allowed himself a smile because it took a couple of beats before he came out of the shadows.
“You were sleeping when I got here. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I did what I usually do.”
“Which is?”
“I come up here at the end of my shift to unwind, to look at the lights.” He pointed to the glimmer of distant places on the shore. “And you? I assume, are trying to swim?” He squatted beside the pool and motioned to my neck float.
I didn’t feel like explaining myself to a guy who had nicer hair than me. “I’m fine. I’m just mucking around.”
“I can see that, but I’m not comfortable leaving you in the water alone, so you either listen to me or you get out of the pool.”
My jaw stiffened as I considered his options. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Fine. Then do as I say. Go back up one step.”
Fireworks flew between us.
“Fine.” I plopped myself on the step and folded my arms across my chest. Water swirled around my shoulders.
“Moti.” His tone caught me off-guard. It was softer, less bossy. “There are some skills in life that are essential. Learning to survive in water is one of them. Swimming is important.”
Earlier, Nikos had dismissed the skill with a shrug and said kissing was more important.
One night, two men, two different opinions. I agreed with them both. Kissingandswimming were both important. If you couldn’t swim, you died. If you couldn’t kiss, you died (at least, in the dating world, because it substantially reduced the probability of your genes mingling with someone else’s).
Alex sensed my resistance slipping away and started coaching me. “Start slow. Scoop up some water and splash it on your face. Good. This time hold your breath when you do it. See? It’s not getting in your nose or mouth. It’s just like when you’re in the shower. Now, take that float off and hand it to me.”
“This?” I gripped the foam collar around my neck. “But—”
“Do you trust me?” Alex held his hand out, waiting for it.
I looked from his eyes to his hands to the water.
Human vs. an element of nature.
“Not really,” I said. “I mean, you’re a great swimmer, and you saved that starfish, but—”
