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22

AMITY

“Vale,”I mutter, my cheeks heating up, “I don’t have anything to swim in.”

“We have extra. I’m sure there’s some women’s suits. Let’s at least check,” he says.

“You don’t have to do that,” I protest.

Vale nods, looking resigned. “You think I’m going to be better than you, don’t you? I understand.”

I shove him. “Are you kidding? I swam every day for five years.” I shake my head at him. “Really, Vale, I could be your swimming teacher.”

There’s a light of something in his eyes. “You think you can beat me, Pepper?”

“I know I can,” I say, raising my eyebrows.

“Okay, come on, big talker.” He takes my hand and half drags me to a door labeled “Pool Supplies.” The smell of chlorine is even stronger here and the small room is filled with brushes, nets, and chemicals in tubs. There’s a washer and dryer in the corner, and Vale rifles through a bin nextto the dryer. He pulls out shorts and a one-piece women’s swimsuit and throws it over.

“There. No excuses, big swimmer.”

“Afraid you’ll lose to a girl from the PS?” I bait him and step behind a line of shelves piled high with filters and test kits. I strip down and pull the suit on as I hear the rustle of his clothing. Trying not to think too hard about that, I grab a towel from a stack behind me and wrap it around my waist.

Gathering up my clothes, I call, “You good?”

Vale makes an affirmative sort of grunt and I peek around the shelves. His back is to me. He’s got swim trucks on so I step out shyly. I’m glad the swimsuit I’m wearing is more of an athletic cut.

My eyes trace the ripple of muscle from his wide shoulders down to his waist. There’s something marring his skin—darker lines. Apparently, Vale’s survived quite a few cuts and injuries. The scars look old. He must have gotten hurt a lot when he was younger. My heart aches and I must make a little noise because he whips around, his eyes wary.

I want to say something, but I’m distracted by the intensity of his gaze, the slight upward curve of his lips. I see his eyes rest on the rounded cut of my shoulders.

“What?” I ask belligerently. The women up here may be weaker than the men, but that’s not the case in the PS. I’m strong, and tall like my mom. “Getting cold feet now, Your Highness?”

He shakes his head, leading the way over to a side door that opens directly into the pool area. There are a bunch of men doing laps. I missed this, the soft splashing, the crawlof swimmers through the water. Something inside me lights up.

“Come on,” Vale says and jumps in with a splash. He treads water. “Come on, Pepper, the water’s fine,” he calls, dunking again and shaking the water off.

I stare at him in the pool while I stretch; the water is dripping off him. I don’t think he knows how…appealing he looks.

Vale laughs, sending a spray of water toward me, and kicks off the wall, swimming easily down the lap lane. I finish stretching and step in the pool, letting the cold water envelop me, shivering a little. They keep this pool much cooler than the one I use in Baltimore. I let the cold invigorate me and kick off the wall, warming up.

Vale didn’t lie. He’s a competent swimmer, smooth and practiced. I duck into the lane next to him, and we swim a couple of easy laps, warming up before he kicks into high gear. I don’t catch him before he gets to the end. He pauses at the wall, grinning back at me.

“Guess I won.”

“That wasn’t winning,” I say, exasperated. “You sped up. You had a head start!”

“Wasit a head start?” he asks quizzically, teasing me. “Or did you just start late?”

“Okay, hotshot,” I say, clinging to the wall and counting down. “Five, four, three, two, one…”

This time we both shoot out at the same time, and I let my legs kick hard. I have a faint impression of Vale beside me, but he’s slightly behind me as I finish, coming up in triumph.

He sputters as he finishes after me. “I’m still warming up,” he complains, grinning.

“Sure you are.”

His arms, holding him up on the shelf, have the same faint scar lines as his back. There’s a big one tracing down his left forearm.