“Does any of this hurt?” I ask.
“N-no,” she stammers, still trembling. “I d-didn’t hit anything.”
She takes another step back, putting distance between herself and the river.
Liam’s a mess. He hugs her tightly, crying. “You said it was dangerous!”
“I know. It’s ... it’s okay,” she promises.
“You could have died! Drowned! You. If dad- you-”
He’s a sobbing mess, nose red, face splotchy, heaving with every breath. Ronnie pats his shoulder, out of breath from keeping up with my son.
“I’ll take him back to the house,” he promises.
“Ice cream,” I say seriously. “And his favorite show.”
“Sure thing, man.”
“And-”
“I’ve got it. I’m the only one in town allowed to babysit for a reason, right?” Ronnie chuckles. “Take care of your girl.”
I don’t bother to correct him. I just look at Sofia. Her clothes cling to her, highlighting everything that shouldn’t matter right now, but fuck if I’m not at least as shaken as she is.
Too late. You’re too late.
“Sofia, say something please,” I whisper as I pull her closer.
“Why is the water that cold in June!” she squeaks, hugging herself tightly. “It shouldn’t be that cold or f-fast!”
I laugh once and pull her into my arms, crushing her against me. Almost lost her. The river would have swept her away, would have carried her who knows how far, never letting up, never getting shallower, only pushing her further and further down. I hate the thought, can’t stand it.
I rub her back and feel her still in my arms. Every muscle tense, on the defense. I won’t let go. I can’t be too late, and I’ve been a fucking mess since our kiss. I’ve wanted to hold her again, to pull her back right here, to kiss her, to lift her chin and kiss her the way I need to kiss her again. To not pull away and pretend the rest of the shit that could bottom out between us doesn’t exist.
She’s right here. Not lost to the river, not pushing me away even though I pushed her away last time. She’s here. I lift her hand and gently kiss the scar across her finger before staring back at her. “I won’t let the river take you.”
She studies my eyes. “Okay.”
“We need to get you dry,” I say, my voice rougher than it should be. “Out of these clothes and ...”
Tangled in bed together while I savor your existence, while I run my lips and tongue over your skin, while I memorize your curves, and soften the panic I feel by worshiping you.
“Y-yeah .., we-we should do that,” she breathes, licking her bottom lip.
My restraint is too fucking close to snapping and it won’t happen here. So I pull her back into my side and walk her the half mile to the guesthouse.
She keeps shivering, moving closer, whimpering slightly. “My legs ache.”
“Swimming against the current does that,” I say, teeth gritted while trying to control myself.
“I’m freezing,” she breathes.
“Come closer,” I invite. “I’ll warm you.”
Her eyes peek up at me, big and dilated and so fucking beautiful as she exhales against my shoulder that I can feel my pulse in my dick and a new aching in my heart. I sweep her up into my arms, too lost in her to care if Ronnie sees. Whatever she’s doing to me is fucking working and I feel powerless to stop it. Right now, though ... she’s alive, here, and nothing else matters.
Chapter 7 - Sofia
