Page 45 of How to Deal

He’s playing a little Elvis on his phone, which I love so I tell him to sing along. “Try.”

He does and within a minute, I know he’snotlying.

I can’t stop the fit of giggles that emerge from my lips. “Oh yeah, stick to photography, buddy.”

“See.” He leans over and sets his beer on the edge of the hot tub near his towel. “I have faults.”

“Did you go to college for photography?” I want to change the subject, and I think he appreciates it.

He nods. “I actually went to Columbia because my parents both went there and then started my business while going to school. I took photos for the local papers and things like that to get my name out there. Then one of the girls in my class was getting married and wanted me to take her photos for the wedding. Turns out her parents were like super famous, had some fairly high-profile friends there, and it was just sort of the right exposure at the time.”

“Has photography always been your passion?”

“Yeah.” Pausing, his eyes drop from mine like he might be insecure sharing like this, but when they meet mine again, it’s anything but insecure. He’s confident and sure of everything he’s saying. “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to take photos. I used to have this little plastic camera when I was a kid. It didn’t take actual photos, but I thought it did and would go around taking photographs of everything, especially my mom ’cause she’d always pose for me. She was so beautiful that I wished there was a film in it so I could have captured her smile and the way she’d watch me. She’d sit there for hours just letting me pretend I was some famous photographer.”

His mom? He’s talking about his mother!

Clearing his throat, about the time I’m ready to cry, he says, “I’ve seen you out here in the mornings swimming.” He gives a nod to the pool behind us. “You look like it’s something you really enjoy.”

He’s getting at something, and I think I know what that it is. I know he’s seen me out here doing laps. He works out on Tuesday and Thursdays in the morning, and the gym overlooks the pool. If there is one thing that takes my mind off life in general, it’s swimming.

“You’re good,” he goes on to say. “Have you swam for a while?”

“Yeah, since I was like two I think.” I smile, but it’s fake and he knows it because I’m about to give him some truth, a piece of my life he knows nothing about. “Had a scholarship for it to Arizona State, but my dad had cancer, and I needed to take care of him.”

“I’m sorry. Did he. . .?” He’s not saying the last part, like it hurts to ask the question but he’s curious.

I nod. “Yeah, two years ago.”

“I’m really sorry.” Tathan’s eyes are distant, as though he’s remembering his own tragic loss which I’m sure, hurts as much today as it did then. If there is one thing I know about losing someone, it’s that it never gets easier. Sure, with time it’s not on your mind as much, but the pain is always there just below the surface, waiting for the next moment to remind you.

Maybe he didn’t want to be sad. I’m not sure, and I blame myself for bringing it up, but Tathan groans and covers his hands with his face.

“What?” I ask, looking around like something is suddenly wrong. “Are you okay?”

His hands slowly drop from his face and drop back into the water as he peeks over at me. “I’m fucking dying sitting next to you in that bikini.”

I roll my eyes, of course he’s notsad; he’s horny. I give his shoulder a shove. “Suck it up.”

“I’d like to suck on something else.” Tipping his head to the side, his eyes drop to my chest.

“Oh my God,” I stand, laughing, and he sighs, looking sad and excited because he now has a full view of my body. “You’re such a boy.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me back down into the water next to him. “Don’t go. I’ll be good. Promise. Well, I know I can be good to you, if you’ll let me.” The grin returns.

“You aren’t helping your case, ya know.”

He’s lying, he’s not going to be good, but I stay because of the dimples he gives me when he smiles.

Only I sit far away from him.

I kept my distance and before long we’ve been out here over an hour, and I’m feeling lightheaded. “I need to get out.”

He nods, reaching for his towel. “I’ll walk you up.”

Somewhere during our time in the hot tub, his mood changed. He doesn’t say much as we part, just a “Night,” offered in passing and he’s behind his door again.

Maybe he was thinking about our kiss, and maybe he wasn’t. Either way, I’m not exactly sure what to make of this situation.

Had I upset him? And why do I care? I’m supposed to be avoiding him and now here I am worried I’ve offended him. See, this is why I needed to keep my distance from him. I’m getting emotionally attached to hot tubbing him.

---