Page 73 of The Love Haters

Hutch gave a shrug as he said, “Use that look you’re giving me as a starting place. Tell yourself you’ve been upside down before. Next step: unbuckle—but this isn’t a car seat belt. This is a five-point harness.”

I nodded. Five points seemed like a lot of points.

Somehow, in the seconds that elapsed next, my heart had started thudding in my chest.

“It’s simple,” Hutch said, reading my face. “You just turn the release, and all five of them fall away. Easy.”

We practiced a couple of times. It was—technically—easy.

But my throat felt cold. Was that even a thing?The cold throat of fear?Was I inventing new ways to be terrified?

“Okay,” Hutch said then, when he’d taught me everything there was to teach me. “You ready?”

I was not.

“Here we go,” Hutch said. “Take a breath.”

Together, Hutch and Carlos manually turned the frame over. And then I was upside down underwater and just as disoriented as Hutch had promised. And then, obediently, like a Hutch Hutcheson tribute band, I heard my mind say, “I’ve been upside down before.”

And he was right. The thoughtwascomforting. Itwasa good starting place.

From there, I did the next step and released the harness.

And, damn him. It was easy.

Unbuckled, I could feel my body drift from the seat, which took me to the next step: time to move. I grabbed the metal frame at the side and propelled myself out, but I guess maybe I pushed a little too hard, because the side of my butt scraped the frame as I went by, not badly, not enough to hurt, but enough that something—a bolt, maybe—caught on the elastic of the leg hole of this cursed bathing suit, and for a second, I was caught.

Just a short second, honestly, but long enough for me to panic and thrash around in the water like a fish on a line until I freed myself.

Then I surfaced, breathing hard, but triumphant.

I met that worried face of Hutch’s again, and he just said, “What took you so long?”

“My bathing suit got caught on a bolt or something,” I said, still breathless and still proud. “But I tore myself free.”

“Caught on a bolt?” Hutch asked, like that had never happened before.

“Yep,” I said. “Just for a minute. But I’m good now.”

But was I?

I felt a little whispery tickle at my backside. I reached back to investigate, and that’s when I felt some loose fabric, floating free.

My smile dropped. “Hutch,” I said.

“What?” he asked, looking down.

“Don’t look!” I said, pressing my hand against my butt—and, to my surprise, feeling not just loose fabric, but also a fair bit of…skin. I knew it was true, even as I said it: “I think I ripped my bathing suit.”

Hutch’s frown deepened. “Where?”

“The back.”

“The back? Like your shoulders?”

I shook my head. “Lower.”

“Your waist?”

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