“You look good in that thing, you know?”
He huffed. “No, I really don’t. But it’s good to be with you, so that’s enough for me.” His gaze went all-intentional on me again as we treaded into the deeper water.
I didn’t realize I was treading water, making my egg-beaters all on my own without needing a refresher first. I was doing it. On my own. Because of him.
“Is that the truth?” I asked, swimming closer to him. “Is just being with me—around me—good enough for you?”
I wasn’t sure if he’d understand the meaning behind my words. From the look on his face as he slid the mask back on his head, I knew he had. “No.” He didn’t blink. “It isn’t good enough. But it will have to do.”
What was she feeling? What was she thinking?
One minute I thought I knew, and the next I didn’t have a damn clue. I knew she wasn’t purposefully trying to send me mixed signals, but I’d never felt so confused in my goddamned life. One second she was looking at me in that way, saying things, doing things . . . and the next she was turning her back and glancing at me like I was just another one of the seven billion occupants of the planet.
The snorkeling thing had been unexpected. Awesome, but not exactly what I thought I’d find her doing an hour after finding out about what I’d done, and hours before Jacob would be here. Maybe that was why she was acting so all over the place—because she was in shock or something. God knew people had been traumatized by less.
She still hadn’t brought up anything about Jacob or what she wanted to tell him. It was just past noon, which meant we had a few hours to decide how we were going to play this. The ball was in her court, and I’d play the game by her rules. Once I found out what those rules were.
“That was fun,” she said as we plodded into the hotel with dripping hair and salty skin. She’d asked me if I’d walk her in, and like the hopeless sucker I was for her, of course I said yes.
Okay, so she still wasn’t ready to talk about Jacob. Not that I was in a hurry either.
“You did good out there. You’re a strong swimmer.”
“I did learn from the best.” She smiled at me, her eyes dropping to where I’d cinched a beach towel tightly around my new beach attire. “Though for a swimmer, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so squeamish about wearing a Speedo.”
I nudged her as I walked her toward the elevators. “A Speedo is what one wears for swimming practice or an event. It contains more fabric, offers more coverage, and doesn’t typically come in python print. This”—I motioned at the area below my navel—“is what one wears when auditioning for Snake on Snake Action.”
When she laughed, it spread throughout the whole foyer. Man, that laugh. Cora used to laugh like that a lot when we were kids, but things had changed. Now her laughs were more of the measured, rehearsed variety.
When we made it to the row of elevators, she didn’t hit the up button. She looked like she was struggling to say something, and I guessed I knew what it had to do with.
“If you want, you can call me later when you decide,” I said, leaning into the wall in front of her. “I’ll keep my phone on me, so just let me know what you want to tell Jacob.” I patted the pocket of my slacks bunched in my arm and waited.
I knew it was time for me to leave, but I wasn’t ready. Something inside me knew that when I left Cora this time, it might be months before I saw her again. Maybe years. That was how I guessed it would have to be for her to put the last twenty-four hours behind her. She might have been content for the last couple of hours to forget about what I’d done, but I knew that wouldn’t last. Her anger would come back, evolve into disgust, transition into loathing, and turn into god only knew what before hopefully, one day, she’d be able to look at me and remember me for the person I’d been the thousands of days before this past one.
“Would you come up with me?” she asked quietly, like she was afraid of saying it too loudly. “Would you mind walking me to my room?”
No. Say no, Matt. You don’t need to fuck this up any more than you’ve already fucked it.
“Sure.” The word was out of my mouth instantly, my palm already pressing into the up button.
At the same time Cora looked relieved, she appeared just as shocked.
We didn’t say anything on the elevator ride up. I noticed that she hadn’t gone with the penthouse like Jacob had originally planned. Instead, the elevator stopped somewhere in the middle of the tall tower. As we moved down the hall, I felt hyperaware of every wet strand of hair winding down her back, every freckle dotted across her shoulders, every breath she seemed to labor over.
When she stopped in front of a door, she dug a card key out of her beach bag and struggled to get it slid in and out with the way her hand was trembling.
“Let me.” I took the card from her and unlocked the door. When I held the card out for her as she stepped into the room, I realized she was crying. Or she was about to. I slid her hair away from her face so I could see her eyes better. “Cora?”
When her eyes lifted to mine, the first tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m scared.”
A lump lodged in my throat from seeing her like this, hearing those words come from her. “What are you scared of?”
I had a few guesses, of course, but I wanted to hear it from her.
When she shook her head and sealed her lips, I stepped closer. “Afraid of what Jacob’s going to do? Afraid of what he’ll say?”
Her eyes stayed closed as a few more tears chased down her cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I’m nervous about Jacob and what’s going to happen when we see each other this afternoon.”
My brows pulled together. What else besides Jacob was she scared of? “Anything else?”
She was quiet for such a stretch of time that I didn’t think she was going to answer me. Then her eyes opened, and she forced them to meet mine. “I’m scared of you.” She looked like she was working up a measure of courage to say whatever she needed to next.
“Scared of me?” My head shook because I didn’t understand. She had nothing to be scared of when it came to me. Whatever she needed from me, whatever lies she needed me to corroborate, whatever truths she needed me to bury, I was hers.
She sucked in a breath. “I’m scared of the feelings I have for you.”
An impact. That was the sensation I felt upon hearing those words come from her. Harmless words were somehow capable of making me feel like I’d just been wrecked and gutted at the same time.
They weren’t just any words. They were the very ones I’d been waiting to hear from her for years. She had some kind of feelings for me.
“What kind of feelings?” I rasped, knowing better than to hope. I had a decade of experience proving why hope was pointless where Cora and I were concerned.
“You know what kind of feelings,” she whispered.
Shit, Matt. Do the right thing. The right thing . . .