Page 111 of Swim To Me

Something seizes in the base of my throat, forcing me to swing my legs out of bed at a rapid rate, pull on a ratty pair of jogging bottoms and head out into the rest of my apartment in search of her.

“Delilah?”

A shuffle sounds at the door furthest down the hallway, making me take a step towards it, noticing the crack in the partially open door.

I push the door open fully, blinking at the sight of Delilah before me. She’s wearing an old t-shirt of mine, the hem of it full of holes and loose threads, which swamps her petite figure, the length of it grazing the tops of her thighs. Her hair is undone, trailing down her back in curls I know feel as just as soft as they look.

She stares up at the row of bronze, silver and gold-coloured trophies and cups and medals covering the wall, each engraved with my name and the date they were won.

I wonder what she’s thinking. What thoughts are running through her mind?

“Delilah?” I call again.

She doesn’t jump so I know she knows I’m there, behind her, watching her stare up at the proof of my blood, sweat and tears. Instead, Delilah glances over her shoulder at me, smiling softly, and spinning on bare heels to close the short distance between us.

“Morning,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around my waist.

Placing my finger beneath her chin, I tip her head back to catch her lips with mine. “Morning, gorgeous. I was looking forward to seeing you tangled up in my sheets when I woke up but you’d gone.”

“My bladder woke me up and then I couldn’t get back to sleep. I’m sorry I wasn’t there; I hope you didn’t think that I’d just upped and left.”

That’s exactly what I’d thought.

Delilah smirks. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

Grinning, I reach down to palm Delilah’s arse. “I like the sound of that. So instead of sleeping, you we’re snooping.”

“I wasn’t snooping!”

“Mhm…”

“Okay, I-I was intrigued, and Hudson nudged me in the right direction, or should I say door, this morning before he headed off to the gym—”

“Of course he did,” I say, knowing my brother doesn’t really obey boundaries – if he wants something, he goes for it, regardless of the potential consequences.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, gorgeous, I’m not mad. The complete opposite, actually. I worked hard to achieve my medals and trophies, but I don’t really get the opportunity to show them off. I’m proud of them and I’m proud to show you.”

Slinging my arm over Delilah’s shoulders, I turn her around until we’re both facing the wall of awards. “So, what do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Grey.”

I watch Delilah’s eyes rove over the shelves, her fingertips reaching out to glide across the etched carving of my name in the base of a gold trophy cup.

“I won that one when I was fifteen, I—”

“Do you remember how old you were when you won each one?” Delilah asks, gazing up at me.

“Most of them. If not they usually have the date carved beneath my name so I can work out the age I would have been when I competed, but I remember most of them. It’s something that sticks in your memory, you know?”

Delilah nods, eyes returning to the stacks.

“This one…” she says, pointing out the medal in question. It’s my most bittersweet win and I’m not surprised Delilah has managed to sniff that one out in the sea of all the others. “Was this your last win before…”

“Yep.” I can’t bear to look at the medal, its colourful ribbon, which was supposed to hang around my neck, in perfection condition, not a thread out of place or a hint of sweat on thefabric, because I wore it for such a short amount of time. “That was my last win before the accident, although I didn’t know that at the time.”

“Grey—”

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