Page 20 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

JOSEFINE

“You’re back.” The employee at Coastal Swim and Surf says as I set the foam kickboard and goggles on the counter. I’m pretty certain they’re the same ones I returned. “Change your mind?”

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure how this is going to work out. Not me teaching Daniel; that isn’t an issue. I could do that in my sleep, that’s how confident I am, but where I’m confident in the water, I know he isn’t.

But I know it’s more than lack of confidence. He’s terrified.

I still don’t know or understand why, and while he didn’t vocalize it, I could feel his fear.

It’s been exactly a week, but I still remember feeling his vigilant eyes tracking my every movement in the pool as I swam.

That isn’t me assuming; it’s me knowing because somehow my body has become aware when I have his attention.

It’s odd, my stomach flutters and my heart, well…

I’m still not sure what’s going on with it, but the point is, it wasn’t that kind of situation.

This is different and even though I would have preferred to stay longer in the water, I didn’t. Once I sat next to him, I could feel his tension ooze off, his stiff posture laxed and his pretty, easygoing smile plastered back on his lips.

After paying, I grab the bag and step out of the store.

Every few seconds, my gaze flickers to the bag as I walk back home. I’m second-guessing myself and my abilities to help Daniel. I’ve taught many people to learn how to swim, but they’ve all been kids.

Daniel isn’t a kid. He’s an adult who’s two hundred pounds of pure muscle. It’s very evident in the way he felt when we danced. And if that wasn’t a given, his abs and thick, toned arms and thighs were.

It’ll be okay. I’m sure I’ll find a way to ? —

My thoughts get disrupted when someone calls my name. The moment I detect who it came from, I regret acknowledging it.

“Josie,” Bryson calls my name again, but I pretend to not have heard him. But he’s dead set on getting my attention because he says it a little louder and then is walking next to me. “Josie, hey.”

I keep walking and unfortunately, he still follows. “Yeah?”

He exhales a resigned breath. “I know you’re mad about Friday. I shouldn’t have said that. I’d been drinking and you know me. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Do you ever?” I shoot back.

He sucks in a deep breath. “What do you want from me?”

“To leave me alone. I’m not sure how much clearer I need to be,” I grumble. I really should’ve brought my bicycle.

“Josefine.” He grabs my arm and ushers me to the side.

“What’s wrong with you?” I jerk my arm away from his hold and take a few steps back to add distance between us. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

I walk away, but his next words freeze me.

“I know it was you. I know you slashed my tires.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I toss over my shoulder. I’m not worried or scared of him finding out it was me but I’m also not going to admit it.

He stands in front of me and that’s when I notice a purple bruise on his cheek and a gash on his lip. They’re both swollen, but his lip is more.

I’m not sure what happened and I genuinely couldn’t care less, but he must mistake my silence for concern. He was always good at interpreting things the way he wanted to see them and not for how they were.

“I promise I’m okay. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” He softly rubs his cheek, smirking like he’s all right, but I don’t miss the slight wince or the way his eye twitches as if he were in pain. “It was a fly ball.”

“What’d you do, catch the ball with your face?” I can’t fathom how he managed to get hit that bad when he’s playing D1 baseball.

He looks sheepish, like he’s thinking about that day. Something about it feels off, but I don’t ask. I’m done with this conversation.

“Something like that,” he replies as he removes his hat and drags his fingers through his dirty blond hair.

Makes me think of Daniel and how thick and long his brown hair is. Never cared for guys in hats, but somehow, he’s made himself the exception.

“Okay, well, bye.”

“Josie, wait.” He follows my step, blocking my path. “I don’t care that you slashed my tires. I don’t care about the drink you threw at me. I just want you back.”

I stiffen, shocked by his solemn declaration. By no means am I shocked in a good way, rejoiced by the fact that my piece of shit, cheating ex-boyfriend wants me back. It’s the fact that he’s really making himself look devastated. Or that he really wants me back. That’s hard to believe.

“I didn’t slash your tires, and you deserve the drink for being a dick,” I unapologetically say. “And get the idea of us out of your head because we’re done.”

I attempt to sidestep him, but again he blocks my path.

“Bry—”

“I’ll do anything, babe,” he desperately says.

I frown. “Don’t call me that, and get out of my way.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so quick to give up on us. I still love you and want us to work.”

I try to gather all the patience that’s rapidly slipping. “Let’s not do this. I’m tired and have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Busy day doing what? Teaching?” He rolls his eyes and stares at me with discontent.

“I don’t understand why you gave up swimming.

If your mom was here, she would be disappointed in you for giving up so easily.

You’re the fucking best. Did you forget that at sixteen you won your first gold medal in the fucking Olympics?

And look what you’ve done since then. Teaching kids isn’t going to get you anywhere. ”

My patience maxes out and my frustration morphs into anger as it flows like raging lava through my system. “Don’t you dare speak about her. And lucky for me, I don’t give a fuck about what you think will benefit my life or career.”

“I’m just saying how it is. Don’t get mad. If your mom was here right now, she would be disappointed and you know it.”

I ball my fists so tight, my nails dig into the heels of my palm. The shard of glass returns, sitting in the middle of my throat, making it hard to swallow.

I can’t disagree with him because he’s not wrong. If she was here right now, she would have me back on the roster or would have disowned me.

Swimming was our only connection and without it, I was nothing to her.

I retreat into the darkness of my head, balling myself up and hiding behind my insecurities and loneliness. I want to detach myself from this conversation, but he insists on pushing, probably knowing he’s hit a nerve and has me where he wants me.

I want to move, to say something, but I feel stuck in the pitch-black corner of my brain.

“I know I shouldn’t have brought it up, but you need to think about your future.

Think about us. We can still make this work.

We’re good for each other. I know we’ve had issues, but we can move past them.

If you want, we can pretend like they never happened.

I know I have.” He takes a step forward, forcing himself into my space.

“Just imagine what our futures together could look like. Me in the majors and you being a professional swimmer. You’re already established.

I don’t understand why you’re willing to throw it all away. ”

The blatant disregard to him cheating on me manages to help me step back.

There are so many reasons why I’ll never take him back and I could point them out, but there’s no use.

Not only do I not see a future with him, but I don’t see a future at all.

But despite what happens tomorrow and every other day, I’d rather spend every ticking second alone than to be with him.

Looking at him dead in the eye, I ask, “What’s my favorite color?”

He laughs. “Blue, why?”

“It’s yellow.”

He wryly grins. “Is that why you won’t give me a chance?”

A string of Spanish curse words come to mind, but I decide to save my breath. “On top of you not knowing that, don’t act like you didn’t look at the camera when Amanda had your dick between her breasts.”

His grin slightly falls at the mention of her name. I guess he thought I’d never find out who she was. Probably thought I didn’t know about the intentional way he fucked her.

“Not only did you cheat on me, but you slept with your teammate’s girlfriend.”

Now his lips instantaneously fall. “What did Daniel tell you? It’s not?—”

“I’m bored and over this conversation.” This time I don’t let him block my path or cage me in, but at his words, I falter in my step.

“Are you fucking Daniel?”

“No, and even if I was, that?—”

“He still loves her. I lied about the ball. He punched me because of her on Monday. He saw us talking Friday night and it bothered him.”

Now that sounds reasonable, but it makes my stomach plummet. “I don’t care.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you. He’s most likely talking to you to get back at me. Don’t let him use you, Josie.”

“Are you done?” My heart races but for different reasons I can’t begin to explain.

“He likes to fuck around a lot . If you don’t believe me, just ask around.”

This time it’s him who walks away, while I stand here, my thoughts conflicted and heart heavy.