Popping the Cherry (20 page)

Deprived of air for too long, my lungs began to burn. Shock had forced my body into shut down in just about the worst possible place. The mosaic floor came into focus, my feet touching down first. I attempted to kick back to the surface but it proved futile. As I settled on the floor of the pool, the rough tiles rubbed against my skin. Muffled sounds reached my ears, a mixture of voices and laughter, but then came a roar of somebody diving in.

I could see the swimmer quite clearly, heading towards me at speed, the water parting to let him through. The guy couldn’t be much older than I. He had broad shoulders and a damn fine set of abs. He was cute, too, in that Aussie-soap-opera kind of way. Bubbles fizzed off his skin as he crouched on the floor beside me, but then he reached for me, his strong hands gripping beneath my shoulders as he pushed off with a firm kick.

The light grew brighter and then suddenly I was free of the water’s cool, suffocating, embrace. Humid air buffeted my face and chest as my rescuer flipped me onto my back before towing me into the shallower waters.

Breathe, Lena, breathe!

I forced my lips apart a fraction and tried to suck in a breath, but still my body failed to respond. My lungs screamed, a raging inferno trapped inside my chest. Goosebumps erupted over my skin as adrenaline flooded my veins, chasing off the ice, but still nothing happened. I was utterly helpless; panic must have flashed in my eyes, because the next thing I knew my rescuer was pinching my nose shut and kissing me, except that my chest inflated and filled with air.

OK, not kissing me, then
.

He broke off and took another breath, then shared it with me, filling my lungs again. I bumped against the side of the pool and felt hands reaching for my torso and legs, lifting me from the water. If I weren’t so afraid of dying, it would have been mortifying, but all I cared about was surviving and getting the hell out of there.

After just one set of compressions on my chest, I gobbed up a lungful of water and could finally inhale for myself. The air cut through my throat like a razor, slashing and burning en route to my lungs. My rescuers rolled me onto my side and put me in the recovery position, then crouched down to observe me. Somebody found a foil blanket and wrapped it around me, while somebody else set up a foldaway screen, shielding us—hiding me—from the other swimmers.

Pins and needles stabbed me all over, a promising sign that my body was stirring back to life. When the first wave passed and the heavy woozies eased off, I attempted to sit up. Immediately, those same hands that had tugged me from the water came to my aid. I was struck with a sense of
déjà vu
so strong, I could have been huddled on the floor of the Indian takeaway with Jake again.

Jake!

‘What time is it, please?’ I asked, or rather croaked.

‘She’s gonna be fine,’ the guy in my line of vision said. He smiled at me, then nodded to the guy holding onto me before leaving our little zone and going back to work.

‘It’s just coming up to five o’clock,’ said the guy holding onto me.

‘Damn, I have to go.’ I tried to get to my feet and cursed when the guy’s gripped tightened.

‘There’s a form I have to fill out first, and I need to take a statement about what happened.’

‘Oh, no, please,’ I begged. ‘I’m fine now, really. I just got a fright, that’s all.’

‘A fright? You nearly drowned on my shift because of a fright?’

I nodded. ‘That sounds really feeble, doesn’t it?’

‘Can you at least tell me your name?’

‘Lena. My name’s Lena.’ I took my first proper look at Mr Lifeguard and almost went into shock again. Goddamn, he was hot! Sizzling, even. And he’d kissed me. Sort of. ‘Well, it’s actually Valentina. Valentina Bell. But everybody calls me Lena,’ I said, my mouth running away with me.

‘OK, Valentina Bell, I’ll do you a deal, seeing as you seem to be in a mad rush. My shift finishes in two minutes, so why don’t you go and get ready, then meet me in the foyer in ten minutes. I’ll give you a lift to wherever you need to go, and you can fill in my form on the way.’

‘But you’re a complete stranger,’ I said, a misplaced sense of self-preservation kicking in. Ironic seeing that the guy had just saved my life. He released my shoulders and shuffled into view. From the crooked smile on his face, the irony wasn’t lost on him, either.

‘Isaac Newton,’ he said, offering me his hand to shake. My mouth twitched, beyond my control, and he rolled his eyes. ‘But, yes, after a lifetime of piss-taking and having apples bounced off my head, everybody knows me as Zac. Except for you. And my parents, of course. Oh, and my brother.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Zac.’ I grasped his hand and gasped, surprised by the zap that tingled through my fingers. It wasn’t in the same league as the Jake shockwaves but it was definitely there. ‘The apple thing was a myth, by the way. It never actually bounced off his head.’

Zac smiled and shook my hand firmly. ‘I know that, and I’m delighted to hear you know that, but sadly the majority of my classmates didn’t.’ Without releasing his grip, he rose to his feet and pulled me with him, helping me to stand. Letting go only once I was upright, he escorted me to the opening to the ladies’ changing room, making sure I could move OK. Thankfully, I could, otherwise he’d never had let me out of his sight. ‘Ten minutes, OK? Or I’ll have the whole place searching for you.’

‘OK.’

I was ready in nine, but I used the final minute to compose myself. When my ten minutes were up, I left the sanctuary of the changing room, holding my swim bag in front of me like a weapon in case I heard that voice again. Zac was waiting in the foyer, as promised, looking just as fine with his clothes on, and he held a clipboard in his hand.

‘Ah, good, there you are,’ he said, his stance relaxing when he saw me. Did he really think I’d try to do a runner to avoid filling in his form?

‘Is it OK if we get going?’ I asked, making a dash for the exit.

‘Sure, no problem,’ he said, falling in step next to me. ‘But can you tell me what you’re running away from?’

I crashed through the door, then spun to face him. ‘What the hell makes you think I’m running away?’

Zac shrugged. ‘Instinct,’ he said. ‘Am I wrong?’ I turned on my heel and marched away. He caught me up in a matter of strides, and put a restraining hand on my shoulder. ‘My car’s parked in the staff parking area. Which is this way,’ he said, nudging me towards the opposite side of the building.

‘Oh, right, thanks,’ I mumbled, then set off in the direction he’d steered me.

‘So which one’s mine?’ he asked, coming to a halt in front of a long line of cars.

I looked him up and down—again—then checked out the choice of cars, from saloons, to hatchbacks, and a sporty little convertible that Gemma would kill for, but then I spotted a dusty, rugged-looking four-by-four. Zac struck me as the outdoors type.

‘The Land Rover,’ I said confidently.

‘Correct,’ he said, pulling the set of keys from his pocket. ‘But how did you know? What made you so certain?’

I’d walked right into his trap.

‘OK, fair cop. So about this statement you need from me?’ He passed me the clipboard and I glanced over the form. It had spaces for my name and contact details, then a massive box taking up most of the page for my statement, with a shaded-out section at the bottom for the staff member to complete. ‘Ugh, this is going to take forever,’ I groaned.

‘If you just want to fill in the personal-details bit, then talk me through what happened, I can write up the statement for you after, seeing as you’re pushed for time.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, marvelling at my luck at being saved by Zac rather than one of the sterner-looking lifeguards. ‘That would be great.’

The suspension in Zac’s car left a lot to be desired, and created havoc with my handwriting, but I got my details written. Badly. I’d just finished explaining what had happened at the pool and about the attack when Zac pulled up outside my house. My pulse spiked and I jerked my head up, quickly scanning for any sign of Jake or his van. For some reason, my gut insisted that Jake and Zac should never meet.

With no sign of Jake, I appeared to be in the clear and could let out the breath I’d been holding, something I hadn’t wanted to repeat so soon, but it’s not as if my body gave me a choice in the matter. I assumed it would fill me in later.

‘Is that OK?’ I asked, constantly on the lookout for Jake.

‘Yes, I’ve got everything I need,’ Zac said.

‘Great. I’d better get going, then,’ I said, releasing my seatbelt. ‘Thanks again for the ride.’ I opened the door and had to half-jump to get to the ground. ‘Maybe I’ll see you around,’ I said, but then shut the door before Zac could reply and raced into the house.

I peered from behind the sitting room curtains. Zac didn’t move for an eternity, presumably writing my statement up while it was still fresh in my mind. I sent my best it’s-time-to-go-now vibes through the double-glazed window and, finally, he pulled away. No more than ten seconds later, Jake pulled onto the drive. Oh, man, that was close—too close. They must have passed each other in the street.

‘Is everything OK, Tink? Jake’s concerned tone squeezed at my heartstrings. ‘You seem really quiet tonight,’ he said, piling on the guilt even more.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Just tired.’ I’d have got away with it if a police car hadn’t come flying past us, its blue lights flashing and siren wailing. I screamed and let go of the steering wheel.

‘Fucking hell!’ Jake lunged and grabbed the wheel.

I scrunched my eyes closed, shaking so hard my foot slipped off the accelerator. My teeth started chattering and protective Jake resurfaced. He talked me through how to stop, telling me when to pop the clutch so he could do the gears. As soon as we’d parked up at the side of the road, he turned on me, his voice low.

‘Quit the bullshit, Lena. Something’s happened. I want to know what and I want to know now.’

Wow, even though I’d expected it, his forcefulness caught me by surprise and eyelids flew open to gawk at him. Jake didn’t need to shout, he exuded enough power and quiet authority to smash through the emotional barriers I’d erected. One tear was soon joined by a second. And a third. But I’d be damned before I let another one escape. I tipped my head back to stare at the grey, felt roof of the car, and inhaled a deep breath through my nose. Pursing my lips, I brew the breath out again, slowly, then repeated the process. After the fifth go, my heart rate had calmed down to more of a gallop, and my eyes had stopped watering.

Ha!

Speaking of water …

‘I nearly drowned today.’

Jake’s eyes bulged and I wondered if eyes really could pop out. His jaw dropped, but then he clamped his mouth together in such a way it had to have hurt. ‘How?’ he asked, speaking through gritted teeth, his control wavering. The moment I mentioned the attacker’s voice, Jake leaped from the car, his fists clenched by his sides. He searched the area as if looking for something to punch.

‘Jake, please don’t leave me alone.’ My voice sounded weak, pathetic, but too much had happened for me to keep up the charade. He immediately returned to the car, acting like a totally different guy from the one who had launched himself outside, spoiling for a fight, just moments before.

‘I’m sorry, Tink,’ he said softly. ‘I’m right here.’ He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

I sighed into his shoulder. It would sound ridiculous if I ever said it out loud, but it was a lot like coming home: the familiar contours, his scent, his warmth, the weight of his arms—all of it. My traitorous mind slipped in the memory of his lips crushing mine to complete the whole ‘Jake’ package.

‘Your heart’s thumping like a runaway train,’ he said. ‘You must have been so scared.’

Jake had offered me the perfect excuse so I snatched it.

‘Yeah, I was,’ I said, burying my head deeper into the nook of his shoulder so he couldn’t see my eyes or hear the catch in my breath.

‘Are you up to driving, or would you like me to drive us home?’

My eyebrows shot so high, my ponytail moved, and I flopped back against my seat to stare at him. ‘You mean you’d let me? After what I just did?’

‘Sure.’ He looked completely genuine as he spoke. ‘You made a mistake, but I can understand why. It was a blip. No harm came of it. And you’re already looking better.’

‘D’you know what? You’re right. I
am
feeling better,’ I said, sitting more upright in my seat. ‘Keeping it from you was really hard.’

A flicker of hurt burned in his eyes. ‘Why did you, Tink? Why didn’t you want to tell me?’

Good question. One I wished I knew the answer to.

‘I don’t know,’ I said truthfully. ‘I guess I didn’t want to burden you with any more of my drama.’

Jake’s shoulders sagged. ‘Don’t be silly, Tink,’ he said, doing his trademark hand-through-the-hair move. ‘You’re not a burden. You can talk to me about anything. Any time. You’ve got my number. Use it.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure Gemma would love that,’ I said, the words spilling from my mouth before I could stop them.

‘Fuck Gemma. I don’t give a damn what she thinks,’ he snapped, teetering on the brink of another explosion. ‘I don’t interfere with who she can be friends with, so she can afford me the same fucking courtesy.’

‘You make it sound so simple.’

‘That’s because it is. What right does she have to tell either of us who we can be friends with? And how come she gets the deciding vote over whether we can be friends or not?’

I wanted to grab him by the shirt and say, ‘OK, I get it. We’re just friends, nothing more, so stop beating me around the head with the goddamn word,’ but went with the safer, ‘No, you’re right.’

‘Shall we get going, then?’

‘Good idea. Do you mind if we go straight home, though? I’m not really in the mood for any more.’

‘Make it so, Number One.’

I shot him an eyebrow. ‘Am I supposed to know what that means?’

‘It’s
Star Trek
of course. You know: James T. Kirk and Lieutenant Spock. Although that particular line is from Captain Jean-Luc Picard, very retro, you’d love it.’