Page 26 of Through the Water

I’d been watching him all week. It would have been impossible to miss how attractive he was, and while, I approved of his features immensely, it wasn’t what had drawn me to him.

“It’s like geriatric hell around here, right?” he asked before taking a bite of his sandwich.

In the hallway, he’d noticed me in the fleeting way one would a fly buzzing around their head, but I’d studied him for days, learning about the kind of man he was.

And the more I observed, the less I wanted to see.

Unfortunately, this time, my blatant gawking hadn’t gone unnoticed. Tiffani scrutinized the two of us, her eyes sparkling with sudden interest. It was a form of communication that needed no translation.

I jerked my head in response, the back of my neck prickling with heated embarrassment. Knowing my face was likely the color of a strawberry, I turned away and began carefully rearranging the peas into a straight line again.

Good, Ariana. Really good.Completely normal behavior for someone who isn’t guilty of anything.

Even the slightest suspicion of wrongdoing on my part would no doubt lead to a visit from Tristan. And, as I still didn’t know what had led to the car wreck, I was eager to stay under his radar for as long as possible.

Cutlery rattled amid the low buzz of voices from other patients enjoying their lunches, all seemingly unaware of the disastrous situation unfolding just feet from their tables.

“You know, this facility is supposed to be the best in the country, but it’s nothing but old oil and gas tycoons who want to spend their time reminiscing about the glory days,” the man rambled in between bites. “They’ve all got one foot on a banana peel—and has anyone here actually seen the football player? What’s his name?”

Justin Thomas, I mouthed to the untouched mashed potatoes in front of me.

“He does all the charity work? God, it’s on the tip of my tongue. Watch, it’ll come to me in the middle of the night.” He hunched down into my line of vision. “Hey, you’re awfully quiet over there.”

I kept my head down and fidgeted with my new necklace, using my thumbnail to trace the miniature suction cups etched into each tentacle. I knew if I looked up, I’d want to dive into the icy blue waters of his eyes and never resurface. Just like a character from one of the books I kept hidden beneath my bed, the man could only be described as devastatingly handsome.

Handsome, for the obvious reasons.

Instead of moving toward my face, this wave of heat surged south, making my stomach flutter like a nest of birds ready to take flight. Clearly, the car wreck hadn’t destroyed everything, but I was beginning to question my body’s discernment.

Growing up, we’d been taught that sin was like a snake, lurking in dark corners, poised and ready to strike.

I disagreed.

Men like him, with their blue-gray eyes and beaming smiles, were the culmination of my every sinful thought—the reason my hand had found its way beneath my nightgown more than once over the last five years.

Maybe it was just me, but I’d always pictured sin as having full lips, a shadowed jawline, and dark eyebrows.

Yes, I’d noticed his eyebrows.

Some of the older men within the church had remarkably thick eyebrows, like bushy caterpillars sprawled lazily above each eye. His were nothing like that. They didn’t detract from his eyes. If anything, they only seemed to enhance his features.

My actions might have looked like interest to Tiffani, but nothing could be farther from the truth. I was simply observing him, the same way one might a bear in the woods.

Warily, and with extreme caution.

Because he was devastatingly handsome. Devastating, in that, once he opened his mouth, all of that beauty fell away, revealing the ugly underneath. It was any wonder his foot wasn’t permanently wedged in between his full lips.

And he wasn’t even aware of it.

To be honest, before today, I hadn’t been entirely sure he was aware I existed. Sure, he’d looked right at me in the hallway, but he hadn’t seen me.

Not really.

I’d seen him, though.

In class, he refused to put in the work and complained about almost everything, leaving his physical therapist looking defeated. When his friend with the nice suits visited, his angry words drifted across the hall into my room.

I wouldn’t turn my back on a man like that any more than I would the errant bear. I’d mistakenly assumed he’d take a hint and leave when I refused to acknowledge him. Instead, he dropped the half-eaten sandwich to his plate and leaned in, searching my face.

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