I turn in a daze, only to find Jax moving away, although not before I spot the enormous tent he’s sporting in his swim shorts.
“See you in the water,” he mumbles, practically sprinting for the steps.
“Yeah, see you in there.”
I head back inside and grab a drink of water, rubbing the ice-cold bottle against my fevered forehead.
Oh heavens… Come on, Kat, this is Jax. Suck it up!
I put the bottle back on the side and make my way outside. I reach the steps and look down. Jax is nowhere in sight.
“Over here.”
I look up to see Jax treading water off the side of the reef.
I turn and climb down the ladder into the water, carefully navigating my way towards him. When I finally step off and into the deeper water, my breath hitches. The water is warm, but different to the air.
“Your body will get used to it once you start moving.”
“I know,” I say, following him as he begins a leisurely swim.
“Do you still swim daily?” Jax asks.
“No. I’m more of a runner these days. It’s easier to fit in. I can run on the treadmill, or when I was living at the apartment, I would run to work and back. Get showered at either end. How about you?”
“Daily,” he says. “Can’t break the habit of a lifetime.”
“Do you miss it?”
“What?”
“The competitions, the competitive nature?”
He stops for a moment, treading water, as if thinking how to answer.
“I did, when I first moved to the US. I missed training with Eli, Zach and the rest of the team.” He pauses after Zach’s name. “But then learning from Dillon Myers took over. I shifted my focus. I never lost that competitive drive, just redirected it towards something new.”
I can understand where he’s coming from.
I played piano to a professional level, was invited to play as a soloist with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. But, like Jax, my focus shifted. It became all about learning how to run the hotels, what I would need to know before I could take over from my father one day. I thought I’d have years of learning alongside him, but that was stolen from us. Then it was down to me to hold it all together.
Jax ups the pace, but not enough to leave me behind. We swim once around the island. My arm muscles are screaming by the time I haul myself out of the water.
I slip, only to have Jax grip my waist, pulling me back against his chest.
“Careful,” he cautions, his breath tickling my ear. My nipples pebble, and I bite my lip to stop myself sinking further into his arms. Grabbing the handrail, I pull myself up and forward, using all my leftover strength to haul myself up the ladder and onto the decking.
I make my way over to one of the sun loungers and grab a towel, wrapping it tightly around myself.
Jax joins me, grabbing his own towel, encircling his waist.
“Nothing like sea swimming,” he mumbles.
“Invigorating,” I say.
“Do you want to use the shower first?”
“It’s fine, you can go first. I’ll just sit here and watch the water.”
