Page 74 of The Season
Antoine opens his mouth, and I can already tell he’s going to say no, but Liam interrupts him.
“All good if you want to come. I can get you both a free trial pass for the week.”
Antoine blinks, his mouth still half-open as he stares wordlessly at Liam. Then he presses his lips together and nods, a short, crisp movement that is more of a jolt than anything else.
Some of tension running between them starts to fracture, like the fraying threads of a rope pulled too tight, snapping. I take a deep breath, and feel an inexplicable rush of anticipation course through me.
“Great,” I say, my voice suddenly breathless. “I’ll drive us home first to get our swimsuits.”
Chapter24
Liam
This was a bad idea.
To be fair, it wasn’t actually my idea, it was Lily’s. Or at least, inviting Antoine was Lily’s idea.
I suppose I invitedherall on my own.
“Ohmygod, I think I’m in heaven,” Lily sighs as she bursts into the pool room.
She pauses, staring at the water longingly, at the tendrils of steam rising up, a crisp white gym towel wrapped around her body, already showcasing so much tan skin, I think my brain might be starting to short-circuit.
Antoine follows a few moments after, his expression guarded but his chest bare, towel wrapped scandalously low around his hips. Unlike Lily, his eyes track straight to me, like a prey animal seeking out a potential predator.
He isn’t wrong.
Lily pulls off her towel, dropping it unceremoniously on one of the worn benches alongside the wall, then dips her toe in at the edge of the pool.
“Itisheated.” Her smile widens, those hazel eyes landing on me, and it’s like someone sucked all the air out of the room. Like I’ve been pushed underwater. “No wonder you’re just sitting there like it’s a hot tub, instead of swimming laps.”
Calf muscles flex gracefully as she makes her way down the steps, and my eyes involuntarily track the length of her body with the water line, moving from her calves to her thighs—not quite at the muscle mass of a seasoned instructor, but already starting to take on that powerful thickness that I’ve always loved in women. Then upward, to the soft curve of flesh at the highest point of her thighs, just before the flash of purple from her bikini, then to the gentle curve of her stomach, the dip of her naval, those perfect fucking breasts barely covered by purple fabric.
I’d never thought of purple as a sexy color before, but fuck if those scraps of fabric aren’t going to be emblazoned in my memory forever.
“Thirty-four degrees Celsius,” I choke out, remembering I should probably talk, or breathe, or both, when my eyes meet hers and read the silent mirth dancing there. “It’s a physio pool. Not really for swimming laps.”
It’s a place I’m familiar with now, after my injury. At first, it was the only type of exercise I could do, half floating half walking in endless circles, with one of those stupid little floatation belts around me and those floating barbells clenched in my fists.
Now, I come here out of habit and an ever-present fear of slipping back.
These thoughts should have my heart rate slowing, should instantly kill the semi that’s hopefully hidden under my board shorts and the water.
But then Antoine drops his towel, and… holy fuck. That’s… let’s just say I haven’t seen many guys back home wearing togs like those. Not at the beach, at least. Not just going for a casual swim with mates.
It’s not a speedo or whatever, but fuck if it isn’t close.
I swallow, and force my eyes up from the stretch of impossibly tight, black boxer briefs pretending to be swimwear, and up to Antoine’s face.
“But it’s fine to swim laps if you want to,” I say, voice breathy, words floating around me with the mist of the pool. “It’s not against the rules or anything.”
“Oh. That’s good.” Antoine’s voice is gentle, but his eyes lock on mine in silent challenge. “I wouldhateto break the rules.” And then he saunters brazenly in after Lily, and I think I might just die.
* * *
“Why aren’tyou swimming laps with us?” Lily asks, grasping onto the ledge I’ve been clinging to for the past ten minutes, shaking wet hair out of her eyes to give me a quizzical look.
Antoine comes up on the other side of her, takes a deep breath, then spins like an acrobat, water sluicing off the muscles of his back, dark skin stark and vibrant against the blue-tiled pool.
