Page 63 of Dirty Chorus

“Yeah...” I say, and his eyes never abandon mine.

“I’d like to go skinny-dipping with you,” he says.

“Really?” I whisper. He stands up, untying his jogger straps, pulling them down to his ankles. Then he reaches for the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head.

I admire the bits and pieces of his ruggedly handsome face. His chest is clean of any hair, and I study one of his tattoos. It’s a bloody heart with a knife stabbed in the dead center, angel wings, and a crown of thorns wrapped around it. I’m left with the sight of his boxer briefs as he folds his clothes and puts them neatly on the futon.

“So where’s the pool?” he asks and pulls them down. I take a deep breath in and eat all the nerves crawling along my skin. I glance at his face and do not dare let my eyes glance down for one second. I don’t want him to think sex is all I’m thinking about again.

“Umm... This way.” I grab his index finger, and my naked ass pulls him through the kitchen, and to the sliding glass door. The moonlight glimmers off the still pool water. The floaties coast around. I step out onto cool concrete, and he follows behind, making sure the screen shuts behind us.

“I’ll race you.” He leans into my ear, and his warm breath runs down my neck.

“Okay.” I bite my bottom lip and run off into the grass.

“Wait, that’s cheating!” He chases after me.

“You cheated first!”

His footsteps are heavy behind me as I run across the pool deck and jump in with flying arms, squealing at the top of my lungs. The sharp pain of cold water rips across my skin, and I hear him crashing into the water shortly after me. I kick my legs and reach the surface and push away the hair on my face.

“That wasn’t fair!” Noah runs a hand down his face, spitting out water and then proceeds to splash me in the face.

I turn my head, splashing him back, but he overpowers me. I’m spitting out water in the midst of laughing. My eyes shut as I swim closer to him. When we are inches apart, I dip my head halfway into the water, filling my mouth with chlorine and chemicals, then spitting it into his face.

He holds out his hands. “That’s playing dirty!” He splashes me again, but I grasp his shoulders, giggling. “Shhh... It will all end soon.” I push hard on his shoulders, and he gets the hint. I’m trying to drown him. He sinks underneath the water, blowing out bubbles, and pops his head back up.

“Help! She’s trying too...” His head fell back down under, and he blew bubbles again. I let him go, and the water goes still as he lets his body float up, clearly playing dead. He’s got the whitest ass I’ve ever seen. The moonlight really highlights it.

“Nice ass.” I whistle, and it catches his attention as he lifts up his head and treads the water swimming closer to me.

We swim for a while, and he tells me stupid jokes, and I throw him sassy remarks. We end up coasting across the pool, both of us clinging onto the same floaty as we chat non-stop. Silly movie topics, the best-flavored wings in existence, and if pineapple belongs on pizza. The argument is heated about pineapples, but I convince him his dick will taste amazing if he eats it.

Noah’s shoulder brushes mine as we drift side by side, our bodies weightless, our skin covered in goosebumps. His lashes glisten with beads of water, and his hair’s slicked back, darker than usual under the moonlight.

“How long have you been helping the church?” I ask. The floaty we sit on spins in slow circles.

He looks at me like he’s surprised by the question, then gives a half-smile. “Pretty much my whole life until I left, but I came back a year ago. I’m surprised you never noticed me before.” He tilts his head toward the sky, and for a second, I just watch his throat move as he swallows. “I’ve seen you.”

I laugh softly. “You’ve seen me?”

“You sit in the back rows. I’m usually sitting in the handicap area with Gramps.” My heart sinks as I search inside my head for any memory of him. “I’ve stood behind you during communion several times. I think you smiled at me once.”

I shift, staring at the way the moonlight paints pale ribbons across the water.

“I don’t remember,” I say.

“I’ve fixed pews when you were waiting for confession with your mom. Painting once, and replacing the door knobs. You definitely were in your own little bubble.”

“So you did crash that bathroom on purpose? How long have you been watching me?”

“I’m sorry to be a disappointment, but I haven’t been creeping. I’ve just seen you around, like I do with most people who come in. I definitely didn’t come into the bathroom on purpose. I was trying to get shit done so I could work on a few songs.” A faint smile ghosts across his lips. “My grandparents were strict. Gramps was an usher. He was really the only father figure I had. I didn’t realize how much he’s declined.”

“So he’s...”

“Yeah. I was living with Omen in that spare room, but then Gramps collapsed so I moved back in with him.” He glances at me, his eyes suddenly saddened and distant as he glances away for just one second. “What about you? Why’s your house look like you’re packing up to leave?”

“My parents are getting divorced.” He doesn’t say anything, just waits, his gaze steady, patient. “They’ve been fighting for months,” I say, words spilling out before I can stop them. “A few weeks ago, they went at it in the kitchen. My mom threw a bunch of dishes at him. Kinda had to lock myself in my room. There were holes in the walls. I heard him shove her. Toss her around. I didn’t know what to do.” The memory makes my stomach twist. I trail my hand through the water, breaking the reflection of the moon into a thousand shards. “I’m sure I’ve got daddy issues. They were always fighting growing up,” I admit. “Maybe that’s why I chase guys who are walking red flags.”