Hold My Breath (27 page)

“Midnight swim,” she smirks, paddling around the water near me after slipping her suit back on. I tug on her loose strap, her hand gripping it quickly but not before I can bring her close to me. Our eyes lock and I reach behind her neck, tying her suit the rest of the way for her.

“This was a lot more fun than it used to be,” I say, my voice low. I peek over her shoulder to where our friends are climbing out of the pool on the other side, reaching for their towels and drying their bodies and hair.

My gaze slides back to hers.

“It was more fun for you because I have tits now,” she says, her mouth pinched in a crooked smile.

“You had tits then,” I say back quickly, and she pushes from my chest, splashing me. I grab her fast, though and pull her back in my arms.

I hold her against my body, and she turns so we’re both facing the front of the pool. We wave goodbye to our friends, and Holly holds up her phone.

“I’ll have it posted by morning. I’ll split the profits with you, Will,” she jokes.

“Awesome,” I say back, grunting when I feel Maddy’s elbow in my gut.

“She’s kidding,” I whisper against her ear. My lip brushes the side and I linger there, tracing it once with my tongue before pulling her cool skin between my teeth. Maddy hums and leans her head to the right, welcoming me to taste more of her.

I do. I kiss her neck and shoulder and eventually work her bikini top back off of her body, caressing her breasts until she whimpers and begs me to take her inside.

I do that, too. We don’t make it far, stopping at the small snack-bar nook where we both used to sneak sodas and ice cream pops from the refrigerator. I press her body against the counter, bending her over and untying one side of her bikini bottom, jerking the material to one side so I can slide inside her.

Our sex is hard and fast, and my hand covers her mouth to muffle the whimpers that escape her lips every time I push against her. When the pressure becomes too hard to hold back from, I press my mouth against her bare back and muffle my own moans. Her body is flush against the counter, her arms spread out to the sides and her fingers grip the edges of the granite while I fill her with every inch of me until there’s nothing left but our exhausted bodies and bliss.

I round up her clothes and the bikini top we discarded and lead her upstairs, whispering once inside. I make us a small bed and tug her body in against mine, under an old quilt that we probably used to build forts when we were young.

“Where’d you find that swimsuit, anyhow.” I smile through the words I speak against her ear, and I feel her shiver.

“I haven’t worn it since high school. It was in the supply closet, in an old box,” she says. Her voice is raw and weak, the early morning hours and our love making catching up to her.

“It still fits perfectly,” I grin, ticking her arm with my fingertips.

“It’s kinda tight, actually,” she says.

“Like I said…fits perfectly,” I say, my mouth tugging up on the side near her skin. I kiss the space where her shoulder curves into her neck and she nestles deeper into me.

We lay together, my eyes on the profile of hers, my hand tracing the perfect lines that sculpt her muscles. My mind is calm and my heart is steady. My world, it feels right, and I don’t know what I did to deserve it. I doubt I do, but I’m taking it. I’m not giving any of this back.

“You know you’re going to have to win, right?” Maddy says.

I don’t answer right away, instead just continuing to trace patterns along her skin. I’m not surprised by the thought. Maybe a little at hearing Maddy acknowledge it. It means that her dad has probably said something to her. It makes the hurdles more real. I knew that my role here began and ended with the money, and now that I walked out on an interview securing big-time cash flow, well…

“I know you’re going to think I’m giving up when I say this, or that I’m making excuses before I even try, but honestly…from my heart, Maddy…I’m good with whatever happens. I’m satisfied having come here, having trained here with you—with your dad—in this place that…” I let my palm fall flat along her arm and breathe out, shaking my head slightly. “Maddy, do you know how hard it was to come back here?”

“I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you to be here after everything that’s happened, Will,” she says.

For a minute, I allow her to think that’s where it starts and ends, that the accidents are what kept me away. But the more seconds that pass, the more unsettled it feels not to be raw and honest right now. Losing my family left an enormous emotional scar, one that I will never get rid of completely, but my heart was broken long before that plane went down.

“Do you remember when I left for State?” I ask, my eyes memorizing every freckle on her shoulder blade, every tiny hair along her neck.

I feel her quake with a small giggle against me. I memorize the feel of that, too.

“You didn’t want to go,” she says. “You thought they were just taking you on the team to lure your brother.”

I nuzzle into her hair, hiding my embarrassed smile even though no one can see it.

“Do you remember what you said?” I close my eyes, wondering if these moments are locked away as tightly in her mind as they are mine.

“I told you that you were better than your brother,” she whispers, her voice cracking with the words. I feel her swallow. “I meant it, you know.”

She turns into me, and I let her, my hands finding her face, then sweeping back her hair. Our legs tangle and we push apart just enough to look each other in the eyes.

“I can tell you every single thing about that moment, Maddy. We were on the other side of the Swim Club parking lot, where your dad had those old wooden benches carved out of logs. The air was humming with the sound of June bugs and the sun was half below the horizon, storm clouds covering one side of the sky and orange filling the other. Everything smelled like cedar, except for your breath. That smelled like cinnamon, because you’d just finished eating a bite of my mom’s cobbler. You were wearing that purple T-shirt we got for free for completing the presidential fitness testing at our high school. Your hair was down, but it was crinkly and wavy on the ends from swimming with a ponytail all afternoon. And,” I stop, because saying this next part terrifies me. As close as Maddy and I are right now, I’m not sure if it’s as real for her as it is for me. Evan is always there—even when he doesn’t deserve to be.

“Maddy, I know you wanted me to kiss you that day. For just a second maybe, but it was there. I stopped questioning, and you stopped talking, and it was quiet,” I say, encouraged that she isn’t flinching right now, or denying anything. Her eyes are set on mine, and her mouth is soft. “I got up when we heard Evan pull the car into the parking lot, but I kicked myself all semester for not having the balls to kiss you then and ask you to be
mine
.”

Her hand moves to my face and she inches up higher against me, her eyes fluttering closed and her lips dusting my mouth.

“I remember,” she breathes.

I let my eyes close with her touch, relishing it. But Evan…he’s still always going to be there. Maybe even more for me than her. I think the only way to move past it is to weave our stories together, to make sure she knows all of my details so I can learn to live with what they shared.

“I came home early for Thanksgiving,” I say. I feel her muscles tighten against me, her face shift in my hands, but I keep my eyes closed and my head down against her. Her eyes make me weak, and I tuck things away, because I’m too afraid of losing what’s in front of me.

“I came home with plans of following through with it, kissing you like I should have before I left. And when I came to your house, you and Evan were sitting on the couch together, holding hands…” I stop, shaking my head and pulling my lips in tight. “Then later that night…” I swallow hard. “I saw you both together…at The Mills. That’s when I knew you were never going to be mine.”

Her lips find mine again before my eyes can open. She kisses me hard, her hands weaving through my hair and her body inching forward until the space between us is completely eaten up with her response to my doubt.

I kiss her back, and I soak up the taste and feel of her, even though I know it’s not enough. I take this for now. I take her kiss, until our lips are raw and our bodies are exhausted. Our eyes are barely able to stay open, and the sunset looms only an hour or two away—our wake-up call to jump into the competitive waters and push our bodies to the max again.

“I know it’s going to take you a while to believe it, and I know our story…it isn’t how these stories are supposed to go,” she says, her face almost panicked. Her lips quiver, and a familiar fear washes across her face, making her pale. I recognize it, because it’s the same anguish that takes away my courage, makes me believe I don’t deserve things. This is where we run. We both do it; when we’re afraid that safety net will be gone—
we run.

Please, Maddy…please don’t run from this. I know you feel it.

I hold her head in my hands, my forehead against hers, and I let myself beg for it. Because I need to hear it. I don’t think I can come back from this now—I’m too far gone.

“Please,” I whisper.

“I love you, Will Hollister,” she says, and I let my lips dust hers just at the sound of those words.

“It has been forever, Maddy. That’s how long,” I say against her skin. “I have loved you…forever.”

I pull away just enough to look her in the eyes.

“I loved the idea of your brother,” she says. “And the safety that came along with letting myself fall for him. But my love for you is deeper than that. It’s the real kind of love. It’s not about ideas or fantasies. It’s just something my heart can’t help. And I know with every single beat of it that whether Evan cheated or not, I’m with the man I was truly meant to be with. My story with Evan—it doesn’t matter. This is the only story that does. Our story.”

My body is exhausted, and my eyes fight to stay focused on her angelic face, but I do just long enough to tell her I love her more. I say the words a dozen times—a dozen different ways. I could never say it enough, and I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of hearing how those words sound falling from my lips to land upon her ears.

“I love you so much, Maddy, and I’m going to win. I’m going to win for you, and fuck anything else.”

* * *

W
e’re not
the only ones dragging. Amber and the guy she brought with her last night, Nick—they’re dragging, too. We’re all slightly pissing my father off because with a key meet staring us down in days,
dragging
does not make for much
winning.

It’s temporary, though. I think maybe after the failed interview and my refusal to answer my father’s phone calls, or come home for the last twenty-four hours—my dad is starting to realize that his best shot at turning around the sinking ship that is this Swim Club might just be riding on the shoulders of the only star swimmer
not
dragging in the pool this morning. Of all of us, Will should feel pressure the most, but this morning it’s like he woke up a new man.

Reinvigorated.

Hungry.

Driven.

My father’s routine with him is the same. He tells him he’s done well, offering praise for his turns, his starts, his strokes. The difference today, though, is Will tells him “it isn’t good enough.”

We have one more set of sprints, and my father is pairing us. It doesn’t matter much who he pairs Will with, because I know anyone is going to lose—I will lose. But I know that if anyone is going to push Will the hardest, it’s me.

Nick steps up on the blocks next to Will, but I nudge him before he gets set.

“Let me have a crack at him,” I tease, winking at Will. He smirks at me, but pushes his goggles to his face tighter, dangling his arms, his shoulders rippling and his back muscles flexing as he leans down.

“Bring it, Woodsen,” he says out of the side of his mouth.

I glance to the other end of the pool, my father’s weight leaning on one foot, ankles crossed and clipboard tucked against his chest. He isn’t amused—he thinks I’m goofing off, not taking this seriously. But my mom showed up today, and a quick look at her face tells the opposite story. Her arms are crossed over her chest, but she’s smiling. It’s the same face she used to make when me and the Hollister boys would race as kids—prideful.

“Go on the sound,” my father shouts, his words short and his tone un-amused.

The timer clicks off, beeping to signal go, and Will and I fly into the water. His jump on me is almost a body’s length by entry, but I make up some ground with my powerful strokes. I put in two for every one and half of his, grabbing hold of the wake left behind his feet in the lane next to me. I push with my head down, not breathing but once, and only to fuel my arms to continue the frantic pace I’m putting them through.

I feel his water slide past me, the rush of his kick leaving me in the dust, the water calming, but a stroke later my fingers hit the wall.

My father is staring at his stopwatch, and my mother is hooting with her arms in the air. I glance to Will, and both of us tug our caps from our heads. We smile from the rush of speed, but Will’s eyes are crinkled in a confused look as he moves closer to the ropes.

I’m about to ask him how that felt when I feel my mom’s hand rest on top of mine at the edge of the deck. I turn to see her knelt down near us, an open-mouthed smile plastered on her face and pushing her eyes wide and high.

“Maddy, that was a full
point three
faster than you’ve ever swam. That was incredible!” She stands and cups her mouth, turning to my father who is still frozen with the watch in his hand, staring at the time.

I feel Will’s hand cup the back of my head and move me close enough so he can kiss my forehead and hold his against mine.

“That’s my girl,” he grins.

I laugh lightly, still in disbelief, because I felt like Will was absolutely smoking me in the water, but then my head does the math and I glance up to take in my father’s expression again. The watch now back in his pocket, he’s concentrating on a few notes he’s writing on the clipboard, his eyes pinched in, making a deep wrinkle between them. Will still beat me, but I could feel his movement in the water the entire way. Our race shouldn’t have been that close. While I swam a personal best, Will swam a personal worst. He did it days before a race.

Will pushes away from the wall and floats backward, his ears under the water and his eyes open on the sky. He winks at me as he drifts out of my reach, but his smile falls the moment his face tilts, and I can tell he’s weighed down with what just happened and what it means. What I want to tell him is it doesn’t mean shit! It means he saw a dozen sprints today after putting his body through weeks of stress. Sometimes we’re tired. This little showdown in the pool doesn’t count for anything other than making my mom feel good she saw me swim fast. The race that counts happens Saturday, and then the Saturday after.

Everyone’s exited the water, and I pull myself up to stand near my parents, my mom still glowing over my time, my father continuing to work out whose side he wants to be on. Will showed weakness just now, and the number-cruncher who is getting pressure to drag Will down should be tittering like a happy, evil fool. He’s not, though. He’s caught in-between, and I can’t take watching him wade in limbo any longer.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, my voice hushed, but angry. My dad’s eyes snap to mine, and my mom’s smile falls fast, her brow lowered as she glances between us.

“Not here, Maddy,” my father says, nodding over my shoulder. I turn to see Will still floating, pushing himself to the other side of the pool. It wouldn’t matter if he could hear or not, though.

“He knows what you think of him,” I grit. “Of his odds and the benefit it brings to the table. He’s not stupid, Dad. But he’s sure as hell hurt.”

My mom’s head falls to one side and she glares at my father.

“Are you undermining that boy, Curtis?” she spits out.

“No!” My father raises one hand, trying to stop our train of conversation.

“The fact that even now—after the interview, where Will was obviously protecting me from speculation and rumors—you still can’t see how much more you have to gain with him on your side rather than just being good enough to hold open the door, Dad…” I start, stopping when my mom’s hand slaps hard against my father’s chest.

“He’s like a son to us, Curtis. You love Will!” she says, no longer guarding her volume.

I turn to see Will now holding himself at the pool’s edge, his arms stretched out and his eyes on us and our conversation. I turn back to face my father.

“He deserves this, Dad. Probably more than any of us,” I say. My father’s jaw works, his cheeks moving as he grits his teeth. “He deserves it more than me. Definitely more than you. He deserves it more than Evan ever did, Dad.”

My father’s eyes flutter closed at the mention of Evan’s name. It isn’t something he’s put on. My dad had dreams of coaching both of these boys to their highest levels. But Will is so much more worthy.

“He can’t do this without you. I can push him. But nobody can bring out what he needs to win like you can,” I say.

My father doesn’t respond, but the tightness in his face eases, until he’s left with nothing but sad, sloping eyes and cheeks that weigh down his mouth.

“Is this about saving the club?” my mom finally says. “This…dump?”

A laugh escapes my mom’s chest as she turns with one palm up, showcasing the eight-lane pool, cracking deck, and fence covered with awnings held down by twisty-ties.

“It’s all we have, Susan,” my dad shakes his head, his eyes lost on the ground a few feet away.

My mom laughs once more.

“No, Curtis,” she says, leaning toward me and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “No, it’s not even close to all we have. And when it comes to priorities, it doesn’t even make the list.”

My mom walks around the edge of the pool, stopping at Will on the other end, bending down, and pressing a kiss to his head. She looks up to catch our stare one last time, and nods—a warning to my father. I look back at him to find his face unchanged, but the sadness reflected in his eyes stronger. His chest lifts slowly as he blinks, his gaze moving from the door my mom just closed to the man waiting for his help in the water. He’s quiet for several seconds, and I let his mind work out whatever fog I see passing behind his eyes, until he finally throws the clipboard to the ground between our feet and moves past me.

“Fuck it,” he says, kicking his shoes from his feet and tugging his shirt over his head. He’s wearing workout shorts, and he turns to me handing me the contents of his pocket before turning back and diving into the pool. He swims toward Will, who glances from me to this strange version of my father swimming toward him. All I can do is move back a few steps to the bleacher seats, gathering my father’s things with me so I can watch.

For two hours, my father bends Will’s body in the pool, analyzing every single position, from the place where his hand enters the water, to where the beads leave his toe from every kick. He never asks him to swim fast. He’s resting him—forcing him to think beyond brute force and power. He’s building strategy and fine-tuning the machine.

He’s leaving limbo behind and swimming in the light.

And neither of them are going to lose. I feel it in my gut.

The noon sun blazing down on them, my father finally forces Will from the pool. I meet them both by the main deck near the door.

“I can just leave your things inside, by the kitchen, if you want to run upstairs and shower off. You might still have some spare clothes up there,” I say.

My dad takes his things from my hands and balls them up in his dry shirt.

“Maddy, if I
do
have clothes up there, I can guarantee you they don’t fit anymore,” he chuckles. I smile with him.

My father’s body isn’t what it was when I was a kid. Time has made his belly thicker and his shoulders less prominent. But the swimmer is still there. I saw him in the pool today.

“I love watching you work,” I say.

My father sorts through his things in his shirt, finding his keys and glancing up at me. His mouth draws into a tight smile as he shakes his head.

“I missed it,” he says.

“Missed what?” I ask.

“Believing in something,” he answers fast.

I stare into his eyes, and they’re clouded with uncertainty, but for the first time in weeks they look happy.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do about the club,” he says, taking a sharp breath through his nose and drawing his shoulders up high. I feel Will step inside behind me, and my father’s gaze leaves mine briefly. “Every day. That. We do
exactly
that after every workout. If you feel like putting in more, you call me—I’ll come. I don’t want those arms hitting the water a single time without my eyes on them. You’re going to be damned near perfect, but the only way I can be sure of that is if I know what’s behind every stroke.”

“Yes, sir,” Will says, stepping close and holding his palm out for my dad to take. My dad grips it, watching how they shake, and stopping their movement with his other hand on Will’s. He lifts his chin and the two men look at one another as reflections of past and present.

My dad pats Will’s arm twice with his palm before letting go of their grip completely and making his way to the door. He pauses just before pulling it open, turning with his eyes down before flitting them up to meet mine, one side of his bottom lip caught in his teeth, a poor attempt at masking a look of amusement.

“You two better get used to racing like that, too. Now that I know that
point three
is out there, Maddy…I’m gonna want more,” he says, chuckling as he spins and lets the door close behind him.

“Have I mentioned how much it sucks to be Coach’s daughter?” I say, my eyes squinted and my stare still on the place where my father was. I feel Will lean into me and kiss the top of my head.

“Just about every day since the moment I met you,” he says, his hand sliding down my arm and gripping the tips of my fingers, urging me to follow him up the stairs. “Let me shower and buy you lunch. Since you don’t have a cent to your name and all.”

I blink a few times then look up at him as he walks up the stairs backward. I start to giggle, a little hysterically, and Will’s brow pulls in as he draws me close to walk alongside him.

“I wasn’t kidding about any of that, just so you know. I really am broke now,” I say, my eyes still wide, the reality of my life at twenty-two, not a cent to my name, truly hitting me.

Will stops at his room door, tipping my chin up with his finger until our eyes meet.

“I’m paying you back for the ticket, Maddy. I insist,” he says.

I open my mouth to protest, but close it quickly, twisting my head slightly to the side while I wince.

“I am going to let you,” I laugh out nervously.

Will’s mouth pinches in, trying to keep his smile at bay, but it breaks through. His lips curve up and he leans in, pressing them against mine, and I don’t know what kind of kiss I love more—ones like this, where I can feel him smile against me, or the kind where he’s lost in me, whiskers rubbing me raw.

I trail behind Will as he pushes the door open, and the smile on both of our faces comes slamming to a halt. Tanya is sitting on the sofa, Duncan holding her hand in both of his. I already know why she’s here, and I know in just a few minutes, Will is going to, too. The time Tanya thought she had left has shrunk considerably, and Will is going to have to carry weight through the water once again.