I pulled myself over the waterfall that separated the hot tub from the pool in truly uncoordinated fashion, and plopped down in the water.
The chill shocked me. My gasp sent bubbles floating up around my head.
With a little effort, I managed to get my face above water.
And ignore the burn in my eyes when my torn, blistered feet met the slightly rough pebbles coating the bottom of the pool.
It took everything I had to hold myself together while I slowly walked over to the lap lane on the far side of the room.
Swimming would help.
I hoped so, at least.
four
LIV
After an hourof swimming on my back, I was so dizzy that my head kept dipping underwater. The frazzled anxiety that chased me was enough to keep me moving.
I heard a snarl of, "What the fuck do you mean, she has amate?" at some point. Whatever was said next was muffled by the water around my ears too much for me to hear.
The sound of his voice sent the most ridiculous butterflies through my stomach.
Niall.
I accidentally kicked the floating line that separated my lap lane from the rest of the pool, and my cry of pain was garbled beneath the water that covered my head with the motion.
When my arms flailed, my head went deep under the water, and I struggled to find something to grab. More pebbles cut my feet.
I finally managed to grab the side of the pool, but a pair of gigantic hands were on my hips, dragging me out of the water before I had the chance to pull myself up.
I hit my captor-slash-savior with a small burst of magic, but he was no stranger to the electric feel of my power hitting those solid muscles. The man didn't even flinch.
I sucked in a deep breath of air, coughing up water as I tried not to look at Niall.
Gorgeous, perfect,fuckingNiall.
I’d wanted everything with him.
Him and his ridiculously detailed, stunning tattoos. And his wild, messy loose dark curls that were falling into his gorgeous brown eyes. And his whole perfect fucking face, damp from the water that had splashed when he jumped in the pool to save me.
It wasn't the first time I'd almost drowned.
Or the second.
Or even the third.
He'd always made a big deal out of me never swimming alone, and I was cautious enough not to, because this did always seem to happen.
"What are you doing, Livvy?"
That fucking voice.
My entire body ached.
"Swimming," I said, as if I hadn’t just seen the man I used to love more than life itself for the first time in two years.
"How many times have I told you not to swim alone?" His words came out in a low growl, like they always had when we were still together. "This happens every fucking time."
