Authors: Hanna Peach
“Be careful,” I called out as I sat, fully dressed, in the shade of the trees, far enough from the bank that there was no chance I’d fall in.
She took a short run and leapt off the edge of the rock, flipping over in the air. My heart jammed into my throat as she arced over, then hit the water with a crash and disappeared. Droplets landed all across my skin and my body broke out in a chill. Salem had always been the adventurous one.
I held my breath, as I always did when she was underwater. Habit.
As the seconds ticked over I began to feel a growing pressure in my chest.
Where was Salem? Why hadn’t she come up yet?
The skin of the lake remained unbroken, ripples stretching out to the edges, the only proof she had ever gone in the water. My voice broke through like a gasp around her name as I expelled the stale air in my lungs. She hit her head at the bottom. Oh God. She had hit her head and now she was going to drown. I told her it was dangerous but she never listened to me.
I crawled over to the edge of the lake so there was no chance that I would fall in too, my fingers scratching against the stone, scuffing my knees as my shorts rode up. I leaned over the rock, holding my breath again, imagining her lying like a pale dead fish along the rocks on the bottom.
Instead I saw her face peering back at me through the water. She reached out for me as I reached out for her. Our hands grabbed each other and I tugged backwards, falling on my butt. She broke through the water’s surface and pulled herself up to sit on a rock on the edge of the lake, droplets shaking off her long hair turned the dark colour of old blood from the water, laughter falling from her lips.
I glared at her, teetering for a second between fury and relief that she was alright. Relief won out. I lunged at her, wrapping my arms around her. “Salem,” her name lodged in my throat, “you scared me. I thought…I thought…”
“I’m fine, silly.”
“But you were under for ages. And I thought you’d−”
She shushed into my hair. I gripped her tighter, not caring that my clothes were soaking up water from her wet body. “You know I’d never, ever leave you.”
She had lied.
But then again, so had I.
Clay dropped the small pack from his shoulder, jolting me back to the present.
I glanced back over to the rock where Salem had been standing. But Salem wasn’t there. I wasn’t wet from her body. My arms were empty. It had been a memory playing out before my eyes. Just a memory. Not real.
“Last one in is a rotten egg.” Clay pulled his shirt off over his head and dropped it onto his pack without a hint of self-consciousness to his graceful motion. For a second I was struck dumb. I don’t think I had ever been this close to a shirtless man before, firm planes of his chest, perfect six-pack, thick forearms, all covered in smooth golden skin so different from my milky skin. I wished my skin took the sun like his did. His china-blue eyes twinkled with mischief under thick, heavy brows and the shock of dark hair that fell over his forehead and often caught between his lashes.
Last one in is a rotten egg.
I looked down into the lake. Salem’s pale figure, her hair like seaweed, lay prone along the bottom. I gasped, stepping back from the edge, and squeezed my eyes shut.
Salem isn’t there, Aria. She isn’t real.
I forced my eyes open and looked again. Sure enough the bottom of the lake was empty.
“You okay?”
I jolted at Clay’s voice, hoping he hadn’t noticed my strange behaviour.
This is why you don’t date.
“I, er…didn’t bring anything to swim in.”
One side of his mouth lifted up. “So don’t wear anything.”
I turned my head to hide the heat in my cheeks. “I’m not going in without clothes on.”
“Why not?”
I glanced over and caught him sliding off his shorts, revealing slim hips and thighs, legs in a pair of dark grey boy leg briefs, a large bulge in his−
Oh. My. God.
I turned my head again, this time my face igniting into twin flames.
Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice my embarrassment. Or perhaps he just chose not to point it out. “So go in with clothes on. It’s warm enough that they’ll dry.”
I shook my head. “I mean, I’m not going in. At all.”
“Are you serious?”
I nodded, still staring at the glassy lake surface, glinting at me like broken glass. Who knew what lay beneath the surface? What dark things lay waiting? People died in lakes.
I didn’t see Clay coming towards me until he grabbed me. For a brief second I felt a lashing of fear through my body as a very different pair of arms grabbed me. I gasped and this unwanted presence faded, leaving behind Clay’s strong and warm body curled around me, trapping me in his arms, but making me feel safe. I became aware of the strength in his forearms and his arms, the way that he used them to keep me against him and a very different emotion coursed through me, something hot and electric. I fought a shudder.
I looked right, his face sitting just over my shoulder. There was a wicked glint in his eyes as they held my stare for one moment, then he looked out. I followed his gaze and found the water.
Realisation struck me. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He lowered his lips to my ear, the softness brushing against my lobe, causing my thighs to tremble. “Wouldn’t I?”
He began to walk us forward. I struggled against him, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, shaking off the gathered cobwebs and bubbling out into giggles. “Oh my God, Clay. I have no other clothes. My shoes. Everything will get wet.”
“You had your chance to undress.” His deep voice, full of amusement, tickled down my neck making me shiver.
He dragged me all the way to the lake’s edge onto a flat rock jutting out over the water. Through the surface was the rocky lake bed and several pale fish swimming about.
He paused. I exhaled. He was just bluffing. Of course he was just bluffing. He wouldn’t really do it.
He picked me up and my feet kicked out automatically. “No! Don’t!”
With his laughter in my ear, I was tossed forward. I inhaled, squeezing everything shut, and waited for the water to swallow me up.
He didn’t release me. My body jerked against his arms as he tugged me back and my legs pulled back in. He placed my trembling legs back on the rock and his arms loosened around me. It took me a second to realise that he had been bluffing.
“You ass.” I turned and slapped his chest. It was like hitting granite. “I hate you.”
He grabbed my wrists to stop me from hitting him again and pulled me towards him, this time face to face. One of his arms wrapped around me to trap me against him, my arms between us. My fingertips fluttered on his chest. His bare torso was so warm in contrast to the cool air that it sent shivers through me.
“No you don’t,” he said. “You love me.” I could still see amusement in his eyes, but joining it now was a seriousness.
I swallowed hard. “You arrogant ass. Keep telling yourself that.”
“I will. Just until you figure it out.”
He was too close and almost naked and his skin was too warm and he smelled too damn good, hints of cedar but it was tempered with a warm musk and some kind of spice. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say back. It wasn’t fair of him to do this to me. His brain seemed perfectly functional whenever I was near. Why couldn’t I have this same effect on him?
My gaze moved across his face, deep-set blue eyes that always cut right through me like a white-hot blade, his lashes enviously thick and black, carved cheekbones, stubble that was constantly shading his jaw. Then finally to his mouth that was just a tad too wide and his top lip that pouted out just a touch farther than his bottom lip, the epitome of perfect imperfection and I wanted so badly to see whether they felt as good as they looked. I groaned before I could stop myself, then came a lash of embarrassment. What was wrong with me? I was groaning just
looking
at his mouth. God help me if he ever decided to kiss me.
As if he heard me thinking the word kiss, his gaze dropped down to my mouth. I inhaled sharply as my lungs tightened, and my lips parted. Dammit. I knew what it must have looked like. A sign that I wanted him to kiss me.
I didn’t.
Not really.
Male voices called out, ricocheting across the lake. “Woot. Kiss her! Go for it, mate!”
Other hikers had seen us. Hikers who weren’t helping this awkward situation. I grew hot from my centre out to the edge of my skin.
I pushed at Clay and he let go of me. I turned my head left and right trying to find the source of my embarrassment. I spotted them, a group of three boys, young, perhaps only fifteen or sixteen, moving past the lake, their black and blue shirts flashing through the tree trunks. They continued to whistle and tease before their voices faded as they moved out of range.
Clay didn’t seem fussed like I was, that damn lazy grin of his sitting easily on his beautiful face. “Aria,” he said quietly. “I
am
going to kiss you.”
I froze. My heart went from pleasant thud to stampeding beast in two seconds flat. Was this it? After twelve weeks of his friendship, after twelve weeks of seeing him almost every day, twelve weeks of this growing curiosity, eventually becoming a hot, aching tightness in my gut every time he got too close, was this where we were going?
His smile widened.
My chest tightened with panic. Clay always seemed to know what I was thinking. I could never seem to hide anything from him. I wasn’t safe from his probing eyes. I wasn’t safe from what I had begun to feel for him.
“I am going to kiss you,” he repeated. “But not now.”
I let out a breath that I hadn’t realised I had been holding. I had a reprieve. At least for now. Twisting around my relief was a bitter disappointment. One of these days I may have to admit to myself how much I wanted Clay.
“One day I will kiss you. On the day you beg me for it. Until then…”
“I’ll never beg.”
“Never say never.”
He took a step away from me, turned, and dove into the water, his beautiful body arcing like a golden bird before diving into the crystal liquid with barely a splash and disappearing from sight. While he was under I found myself holding my breath as I used to do with Salem so many years ago.
…seven…eight…nine…
He broke up through the surface of the water and I let that breath go, relief relaxing my body.
“Come on in. The water’s amazing.”
I wanted to. But it was safer on the edge. I lowered myself to sitting and pulled off my shoes, dipping my toes into the cool water. “See, I’m in.”
Clay flicked water at me. I flinched back as the droplets hit my face. “Hey, cut that out.”
He continued his assault. I yanked my feet out of the water and pushed myself to standing, backing up until his droplets couldn’t reach me anymore, dirt squeezing up between my toes.
“Life starts in the deep end, angel. Don’t spend the rest of your existence just watching from the edge.”
His words cut through me. “I have a life,” I said in self- defence. “Just because I won’t to jump in with you…” I trailed off. But I hadn’t ever jumped in, had I? I had always just watched from the side.
I stared at Clay, swimming through the water with powerful cuts of his arms and felt a strong tug towards the glittering lake. What had started out a sliver of discontent several weeks ago had steadily grown into this…inner rebellion. The safety on the shore was beginning to feel stifling and boring. I wanted something more than safety. I wanted to jump in there with him. I wanted to brave the deep end.
Without allowing myself a moment to second-guess myself, I ran forward and jumped. For a second I was airborne, the feeling of flying coursing through me, a feeling of weightlessness. I hit the water, so cold in contrast to the humid air that it made my lungs spasm. I gasped before I shut my mouth against the invading water that covered me completely. I felt it catch me in its warm arms and slow my descent. Under the water there was a kind of silence. A womb-like sensation of being safe and surrounded. What had I ever been scared of?
My feet found the uneven lakebed. I kicked off and shot back up, my face breaking through the surface of the water. The warm air stung against my frigid cheeks. I inhaled and felt a rush of thankfulness that I was alive. Sometimes I forgot how good it felt just to be alive. Clay always seemed to find ways to remind me. To push me into places and feelings where I didn’t want to go at first, but then I did, and every time it felt like shooting stars under my skin.
“I knew you had it in you.”
I spun to face Clay, his face all grin and perfect, straight teeth. He was standing partly out of the water, his taut pecs just above the waterline, and droplets on his tanned skin. His fractured reflection underneath him was a beautiful inversion.
I was staring.
Of course, he had noticed me staring, a half-grin pulling up at the corner of his mouth. I looked away trying to pretend that he didn’t stun me the way he always did. He was so beautiful it hurt to look at him, burning the backs of my eyes like I had been staring into a flame for too long. I always had to rip my gaze away from him, but it was only ever temporary, my eyes just drawing back to him like moths.
Clay pushed back along the surface of the lake, forcing the water out of his way, until he slowed to a stop and lay on his back just floating there. With his body partially out of the water, I could see the scattering of dark chest hair plastered to his chest, a tiny pool of water between his firm chest and those ridges of his abdominal muscles. I never used to understand women’s fascination with the male body, but now I did. There was a coiled power promised in each muscle, a seductive heat that seemed to radiate from each fibre that drew me closer, fingers itching to run along those firm lines and sharp edges. And I wanted to suck the water out from every place that it pooled.
“Hey, what do you think that looks like?”
I flinched at his voice. Had he caught me drooling over him?
No, he was still floating on his back, staring directly up, his right arm now outstretched.