Page 44

I can do this. I can do this.

I can do this.

The smell of chlorine hits my nose.

My palms sweat. The hairs stand on the back of my neck.

I want to throw up.

Huffing out quick breaths, I snap the rubber band on my wrist. I sneak one more look at my phone, hoping Polaris’s email will pop up.

He always has the perfect words of encouragement.

A weight presses into my chest, the ache behind my rib cage making an appearance.

Did I scare him off?

It’s been weeks. Why isn’t he responding?

Did he forget about me?

He’s only a pen pal, Lexy.

Just because you feel something doesn’t mean he does.

I shouldn’t feel sad.

I’ve never met him after all.

Shaking myself, I stuff my phone inside the locker and slam it shut.

Time to focus on the task at hand.

Swimming.

I can do this.

I’m Alexis Vaughn and I’m stronger than my fears.

I don’t need anyone to encourage me because I’m motivated all on my own.

Blowing out one last breath, I step through the door separating the changing room and the Olympic-sized swimming pool inside The Orchid.

Then my lungs stop working altogether.

My eyes malfunction too.

Because there’s a hot merman in the water .

Sleek muscles flash, then disappear, the water rippling from his movements.

Those powerful arms resurface and slice through the air, the motion full of strength and precision.

The perfect butterfly stroke.

Suddenly, my skin is too hot and I tug my black bikini top, trying to loosen it up.

Ethan’s not lying. He can swim.

His movements halt when he reaches the end of the pool, and in one quick motion, he hoists himself up, bracing his forearms on the edge.

“Coming in?” He swipes his hair back.

My mouth dries. It’s like watching a cologne commercial in slow motion.

The water droplets glide across swaths of golden skin, trickling down his corded neck to those defined pecs and rippling abs.

Six-pack. No, eight-pack.

High school boys did not look like this.

I gulp.

“Cat got your tongue?” He unleashes a wry grin, his dimples flashing.

My heart stutters, then goosebumps form on my forearms.

Cat got your tongue?

The question echoes in my mind.

He said this at Mystique.

But the breathlessness inside me, his grin, his question…

it’s all distinctly familiar, and not because of that night at the club.

Textbooks scattered on the ground.

My laptop strewn on the pavement.

Blistering cold. Lots of snow.

A hand stuffing my things back into my bag.

“Lexy?”

I shake myself out of my trance, finding Ethan’s concerned gaze on me.

Was that another memory?

“Sorry. Trying to work up the guts to do this.” I walk to the edge of the pool .

“You got this. I have faith in you,” he murmurs and cocks his head toward the other end, where the ladder is.

“Want to ease in slowly or just go for it?”

I peer into the water.

The nausea comes roaring back.

It looks deep. Really deep.

Deeper than the pool back at my apartment.

“Ten feet,” he murmurs, clearly knowing what I’m thinking.

“We can start in the shallow end if you like.”

Dragging my gaze up to his, I stare into his eyes.

They are steady on me.

Constant. Reassuring.

I’ve lost eight years of my life in a coma, plus four years of memories.

I don’t want to waste any more time.

“No. Let’s go for it.” My words echo against the walls.

It’s then I realize there’s no one here except the two of us.

“Is it always this empty?”

“I closed it off. Perks of being an Anderson. I figured you wouldn’t want an audience.”

I swallow, my stomach flipping.

He’s thought of everything.

“Come on then. I’m right here.” He wades back a few feet, giving me room to get in.

I can do this. I’m going to swim, dammit.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I turn around and carefully lower myself into the pool, clinging to the edge for dear life.

“Sh-shit.” My teeth clatter.

Strong arms wrap around me, caging me to the side, then his broad chest presses against my back.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

I’m safe.

Blowing out a deep breath, then another, my rioting pulse slowly calms.

I’m safe with him.

After a minute, I turn around to face him, my hands still gripping the edge behind me.

“I can do this, Ethan. I will do this.” I say it more to myself than to him.

A flash of admiration appears in his eyes.

“I believe you, Nova. I have faith in you.”

Nova.

I like the nickname.

“Hold on to me. I’ll just swim us out a little bit, okay?”

Nodding, I throw my arms around his neck and shriek when my body sinks.

“I got you. You’re safe. I got you.” He grips me tightly as I hug him like a koala to a tree.

Slowly, my muscles relax, and we wade to the middle of the pool.

My feet can’t touch the bottom.

If I let go of him and don’t swim, I’ll drown.

But somehow, the panic doesn’t rear its ugly head.

Because he’s here. He’ll take care of me and protect me.

“Ready for more?” He smiles softly, his wet hair falling over his eye.

Unbidden, I brush it back and his nostrils flare.

“Let’s do this.”

We spend the next fifteen minutes floating.

He slowly eases me away from him—my hands sliding down to his shoulders, his biceps, then his forearms. Eventually, only our fingers are touching, and there’s a wide gap between us.

“Look at you treading water. Doing just fine on your own. I’m barely holding you.”

His encouragement spurs me on, and I take a deep breath.

“I want to try swimming on my own.”

Ethan scans my face, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

“You sure?”

I nod.

“I want to try it.”

“You know the strokes, Lexy. You can swim. Just remember that. This is just the same as the kiddie pool. I’m here and nothing will happen to you. Whenever you’re ready, let go of my hand and swim to the edge.”

My pulse clamors in my ears, and I blow out another breath.

One.

Two .

Three.

I let go.

My body plummets.

The water swallows me whole.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Stop lying. Why did you have to be so nosy? You have a death wish, don’t you?”

There’s so much rain.

I can barely see in front of me, the water cloaking the windshield, the wipers completely useless.

“Give it to me. I know you have it.”

“No!”

Bright lights blind me.

Headlights in my rearview mirror.

I swerve but the car spins out of control and free falls into inky darkness.

I scream.

Water rushes up my nose, my arms flailing.

I’m going to die. I’m going to drown.

I’m going to—

Strong arms band around my back, and the next thing I know, my head is out of the water.

“I got you. You’re safe. You’re okay. I got you.”

Ethan.

Coughing, the water still burning my lungs, I cling to him—his warmth, the frantic beat of his heart, the quick puffs of air hitting my back.

“I got you, Nova. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you with my life.”

My pulse rings in my ear, the room swirling around me, and it isn’t until a few seconds later when I fully register his words.

I’ll protect you with my life.

“Ethan?” I pull back slightly, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

He dips his forehead against mine and vows, “I’ll die before I let anything happen to you.”

A gasp tumbles out of me.

The fervency in his voice.

There’s no doubt. No hesitation.

He means it .

I lean back and look at him.

His pulse batters against his temple.

A desperate fire incinerates those stormy eyes.

Those familiar eyes.

What happened between us in the past?

“Ethan.” The rest of my body finally flickers to life.

Every inch of me is plastered against him.

My softness against his hardness.

My agility against his strength.

My core clenches and my nipples bead into hard points.

Suddenly, the water feels too warm.

He draws in a sharp inhale, his pupils slowly dilating.

His gaze trails over me—my eyes, lips, breasts, then dips lower.

The tension thickens, and he swallows hard before locking his eyes back to mine.

Just like before, he skates his index finger down my nose and a sharp current sizzles through me.

He’s telling me something in that gesture, and this time, I’m learning the language.

“Someone once told me perseverance and effort are what it takes to succeed in life. And effort counts twice.” His voice is husky.

“I have faith in you, Alexis.”

I stare at him, hypnotized by the reverence in his words.

“Shall we try again? You can swim. I know it.”

Right.

Swim lessons. That’s why I’m here.

He’s chased away my terror.

I nod.

Despite the failure just now, the strange flashbacks confirming something sinister happened to me the night of the accident, I’m not afraid.

Because Ethan is here.

He’ll protect me with his life.

This time, when he lets go, a new confidence surges through me, my body finally cooperating with my mind.

And I swim, on my own, for the very first time.