I hesitate, then confess, “I just don’t feel comfortable.”
“Why’s that?” Xander pries gently.
I look down at my hands in my lap, feeling a mix of vulnerability and frustration. “I already told you guys yesterday. I don’t like being in a swimsuit.”
He persists, a determined look in his eyes, “But why?”
I shoot him a pointed look.
Does he not want to get it?
“Look at me.”
He reaches for my towel, letting it slip away so I’m no longer shielded, leaving me feeling exposed. His hands trace their way up my thighs, the touch gentle yet electrifying.
He squeezes lightly, his voice a soft, reassuring murmur. “All I see is beauty.”
Casting a doubtful and somewhat startled glance in Xander’s direction, I’m caught off guard when he suddenly pulls me toward him into the water.
Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist and clutch his neck.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” he whispers in my ear, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he cradles me in the water. The coolness of the pool water surrounds us, reaching just up to my chest as Xander strokes my thigh gently. “See? It’s not so bad.”
I become acutely aware of our closeness, the water feeling like a buffer against the sudden rush of emotions. Xander’s bare chest presses against mine, his skin warm and wet, while my bare thighs are securely wrapped around his waist.
Fuck.
“What are you thinking about there, little tomato?” He smirks at me, knowing very well what’s going on.
I blush even more, my cheeks turning a shade of crimson. “Nothing,” I reply, perhaps a bit too quickly.
Xander’s fingers start to trace patterns along my thigh underwater, his touch both calming and exciting at the same time. He shifts the conversation, asking, “Have you thought about what kind of tattoo you want?”
My fingers absentmindedly trace the tattoo on his shoulder as I consider his question. “Not really,” I admit, my voice soft.
He leans closer, his breath tickling my ear as he continues to stroke my thigh. “You know, once a scar is properly healed, it’s relatively easy to cover it with a tattoo.”
I glance at the scars on my forearm, then back at him. “Really?”
He nods. “You saw my stomach.”
A playful smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “How many Christmases would it take to get a sleeve from the talented Xander?”
He doesn’t even hesitate when he tells me, “Fuck Christmas, I’d do anything for you any day of the year.”
His intense gaze holds mine, and a warmth spreads through my chest. But our moment is interrupted when Joshua chimes in, breaking the spell.
“Ready to time me again?” Joshua asks, flashing me a smile when I turn my head to him.
I feel a pang of guilt for clinging to Xander like this, but Joshua doesn’t seem bothered. So, I take the watch from him and get ready to time his next lap.
Carolina is totally ignoring me.
I find myself in the hot tub area of the swimming center, attempting to relax as the spa jets blow soothing bubbles up my back. Yet I can’t help but dwell on my recent life choices as the bubbles envelop me.
Since what happened in the kitchen, Carolina hasn’t said a word to me, apart from that single, dismissive “No” she texted yesterday. But that doesn’t count. She even avoids looking in my direction.
I can tell because I’m always watching her.
