An actual whimper sounds in my throat.
I inwardly scold myself for the involuntary reaction that takes my physical body by storm. Heart racing, cheeks flushing, and that familiar tingling low in my tummy.Stop, Brinley, it’s all physical, and that doesn’t go a long way.
The trouble is, my attraction to Dawson is far from surface deep. It has more layers than the baklava that came in our welcome kit. Sure, he has his issues like anyone else, but since we arrived, I’ve been reminded of the reasons I fell for him to begin with... the reasons I stayed with him for so long.
The crescent-shaped staircase ends near the patio entrance, a set of wide glass doors that glide open and shut at the push of a button. I take a hard look at that button and ask myself one important question:
Am I ready?
There’s no easy answer since the question is as layered as my feelings are for Dawson. At the top of the list is the obvious:Is the Dawson Dam up and in full operation?
Honestly, I have no idea.
My free arm turns heavy as I consider reaching for the button to open the doors. Mentally, I’m back in Janis’s car, fighting off beats of panic and regret.
A pool of acid-like heat gathers around my heart. It’s not too late to back out, is it? I’m a free citizen. I can turn right around, march back up those steps, then get my things and go.
Three distinct taps pull me from my musings. My eyes shift from their dazed, absent stare and into full focus where Dawson stands on the other side of the glass, his smile broad and friendly.
“It’s right there,” he says, voice muffled by the barrier between us. He points to the right.
“Huh?” I glance over to see he’s pointing where the button is on my side.
Suddenly the doors glide open. “Right here,” he says, stepping inside and wrapping a hand around the edge. “See?”
The scent of his masculine aftershave hits my senses. His arm grazes mine as he motions me closer. “Come on, I haven’t gotten in yet, but I dipped a few toes. Feels great.”
The familiar gleam in his warm brown eyes is home to me, and suddenly the tension drains from my limbs. I believe that he’s here for a second chance. Perhaps Janis is right; after what we’ve gone through, maybe I do owe it to the both of us to give things a try. I’ll know soon enough whether he’s changed.
“Coming.” I pull in an unhindered breath, easing into a new level of comfort as I exhale. It’s what happened when we sat down to share the welcome basket despite the uncomfortable rock-hard couch. Something about his familiar presence just puts me at ease.
At once, I’m tossing the towel and robe onto a nearby beach chair, then gripping the hem of my concert tee before pulling it up and over my head.
I shoot him a look after stepping to the edge of the pool. “ Cannonball?”
He joins me at the edge, the tips of his toes reaching just beyond the surrounding stone. “Count of three?”
I nod.
“One, two,three!”
I jump in, and the cool water caresses every inch of me as I sink to the bottom, then float back to the top. Gone is the doubt, the dread, and the noise in my head. I’m weightless and carefree.
When I burst through the surface, Dawson catches my gaze and flashes me a smile.
We spend a full hour in the pool, splashing, racing, and acting like kids that don’t have a care in the world. We even indulge in the old who-can-hold-their-breath-under-water challenge though we both know he’ll win after his role inBuried Treasure,where he filmed dozens of underwater scenes. I have good reason to resent that film, but I refuse to let anything ruin a vibe that feels this good.
Soon we’re lounging side-by-side beneath a cabana that ripples in the breeze. And since the kitchen staff offers a selection of drinks when they arrive, we have strawberry daiquiris as well.
“So what do you think of the screenplay so far?” Dawson asks.
My eyes are closed, but I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s still reclined like me. I think over the script they gave us. Beneath all the blood and gore, it’s a love story.
The cheerleader, after losing her entire family, discovers a lumberjack named Nick, and the two team up for survival purposes. They set up home on an abandoned college campus and eventually, the zombie attacks come fewer and farther between. Remission is in sight, since, in this story, zombies only live for a few months at best, which means they can repopulate the planet if all goes well.
“I think it’s funny that Libby and Nick have gone all this time, silently knowing they’ll have to repopulate the earth, and they haven’t even kissed,” I say.
“True,” Dawson agrees. “Nick’s frustration is pouring off the page.”
