“Or you can just use the indoor swimming pool like a normal person.”
Something ticks inside of me. It’s his words, and Spencer has no idea.
Crossing my arms, I state the obvious. “Well, I’m not a normal person, am I? Remember, I’m the idiot who decided thirty minutes with you was something worth trying.”
Spencer tosses an avocado into the fruit bowl. “Is this the cue to establish ground rules for you living here?”
“No. Because I will absolutely not walk around as if you are the commander of the house and I shall obey.”
His brow raises, and I feel like a dirty thought just slipped into his brain.
“And here comes your stellar snark,” he says, sarcastic.
I feel anger boiling. “You, likewise, have nothing nice to say about me. Can we just agree that we will stay out of one another’s way? Which means when I am cooking, then leave me the hell alone.”
“I believe you just set a rule which you were adamant we don’t do.” Smartass is really going all in on the irritation front.
My hands finds my hips, and I’m now just agitated. “We will only go in circles in every conversation. Shall we end this now before I throw something?”
“I’m a good catcher.” He offers me a contrite grin.
I step closer to him. “You know, for someone who is a pitcher and throws curveballs, you sure as hell don’t anticipate them. So, thank you, Spencer, thank you for ensuring we both end up in a situation like this where I have to be stuck under your roof because of your mistake.”
He scoffs a sound. “Because your life was going so well.” He walks past me, his shoulder hitting my own.
As he leaves the kitchen, I know his words hurt because insecurity is a bitch.
* * *
It’s a little brisk,I’ll admit that. The water in the lake, however, is doable for a quick swim. A fast swim is what it will need to be, as the sun is setting.
Every stroke is filled with my emotional state which could be a little calmer, I confess.
I hear Pickles’ low bark. My faithful canine has been sitting on the dock watching me. I’m not quite sure he even knows how to swim or at least the water is probably too deep for him.
But I hear a splash, and I stop mid-stroke to assess the scene. Even treading water, I manage to roll my eyes when I see Spencer’s sporty physique swimming in my direction.
I swim a few feet until I know my toes can touch the bottom, and Spencer meets me there.
After he walked out of the kitchen, I whipped up some cookie dough to set in the fridge and pulled together a chickpea salad. Keeping my hands busy in the kitchen was my distraction, just like Spencer going for a run or workout, whatever the hell star pitchers do in the off-season to keep themselves busy.
“You know this water is as cold as your heart,” he informs me as he swims in place.
“Then why are you here? I would assume you have other cool-off methods as part of your training.” I move my arms to keep me afloat.
He shakes his head. “Because it’s barely light out and you are swimming in a dark lake.” His tone feels like he is scolding me.
“Not your problem.”
“Really? Tell that to Hudson and Piper when we find your body in the morning.” He takes me by surprise and grabs hold of me, bringing my body to his.
My breath catches in response. “Let go of me.”
“No, we’re getting out of the water, even if I have to carry you back.”
I set my hands on his shoulders and that move catches him off guard. For a moment, we both stare at one another with the glow of the evening sky tracing our faces.
“I was almost done,” I breathe out.
