Page 32 of The Doctor's Simple Life

I have to avert my eyes before he catches me staring because that would make him ask questions I don’t want to answer. I can hear the conversation now:Like what you see?And I wouldn’t want to answer yes, but… well, I do. I like what I see very much.

He grins at me, a big smug thing, and impulse takes over me. I march up to him and push him straight into the lake. He stumbles cartoonishly, splashing as he loses his balance in the shallows, then topples over on his back with a huge splash.

I giggle as he emerges, gasping for breath, slicking his wet hair down onto his head. He looks at me with wide eyes, and I laugh again. It’s good to see him off guard.

It makes him seem more human.

Then he shivers, rubbing his arms in an exaggerated show of warming himself up. “You’re right. It is a bit cold.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” I say. This lake is so refreshing on a hot summer day; the trees stop it from getting too warm, and the water is always clear and fresh.

“Well, are you coming in or not?” he calls.

I take a breath, then kick off my shoes. I stare out over the water for a second, then slip off my shorts, leaving me in my T-shirt and underwear. It’s more than I would have liked to show him, but I’ve committed to this now.

Tentatively, I step into the water, the cold ripples lapping at my ankles. Reece waves at me, and I wave back. In that second that I’m off guard, he darts forward, grabs my wrists and pulls me down into the deeper waters with him.

I yell out in surprise as I hit the water, the coldness of it smashing against my skin and startling me. For a moment, I’m totally submerged, my limbs suspended and floating, all my weight taken from me.

Then I emerge out of the water to find Reece laughing at me. I splash him but quickly succumb to the giggles as well. We sit there for a while, splashing and giggling at each other, the summer sun beating down on us. It catches Reece’s hair in golden rays of light and sparkles off his cheekbones.

Like this, he seems more handsome than ever.

Like this, I can feel my steadfastness against finding him attractive weakening.

He stands up and dives into the water, splashing off into the deeper middle of the lake so he can swim properly. The water flows off his back and draws my attention to his strong shoulders and his well-formed arms. How strong would those arms be to hold me, I wonder. What would they feel like around me?

Stop this right now, I tell myself sternly, but it’s too late. The floodgate in my mind has opened, and I imagine him like some great romantic hero, sweeping me off my feet, dipping me and kissing me and holding me. I shake my head and force the thoughts to stop there.

Any further than that, and we’re heading into some seriously dangerous territory.

I swim out into the middle of the lake to meet him and splash him again.

“See,” he says, grinning. “This was a great idea. I love swimming.”

“Are there any sports you don’t love?”

He purses his lips, thoughtfully looking up to the sky. Water shimmers in tiny globs on his eyelashes, making his blue eyes look even brighter than usual. “Baseball,” he says, finally. “I’m not that big a baseball fan.”

“Really?”

“Why does that surprise you?”

I open my mouth and let it hang like that as I try and summon some words. I don’t really have a good answer for that. “I guess I was expecting you to say something more unusual, that’s all.”

“If baseball was ten times faster and ten times less boring, then yeah, I probably would enjoy it more. But it’s not. It’s slow, and it’s dull, and it’s not even fun to play. Don’t you think?”

I nod. “Oh, God, yeah. I can only follow sports if they’re exciting.”

“That’s why I like tennis,” he says, nodding to himself like he’s winning his own argument. “Tennis is always exciting, even when it’s a long match. It’s about that mental battle between the opponents. The physical one too, I guess. But so much of it is about force of will, about not getting too cocky and letting your opponent fool you.”

“That’s why you came here, isn’t it?” I say. “Because of tennis?”

He cocks his head at me, and a stub of guilt rushes through me like I mentioned something I wasn’t supposed to know. Quickly, I try to backtrack. “I mean, there’s a rumor going around that you lost some sort of bet. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“No, it’s true,” he says with a sigh. “I got cocky.”

“Do you regret it?” I ask.

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