Page 55 of Depths of Desire
“Hi to you, too,” I muttered, tucking the phone under my ear.
“Don’t hi me. This is the third time I’ve called without a reply. You’re slipping.”
“I’m busy.”
“You’re always busy. You’re also always efficient with your time. And you don’t forget things.” Her voice dipped on the last line, just a little. “So what gives?”
I leaned back on the bench, sweat cooling against my spine in the drafty hallway outside the pool. A drop ran from my hairline down the side of my jaw. “I’ve been…hanging out. More than usual.”
There was a beat of silence, then a knowing hum. “Hanging out,” she repeated, drawing out the words like taffy. “With someone who happens to be very good at hockey and once made you grumpy in a car for six hours straight?”
I sighed. “You set that ride up. This is technically your fault.”
“Oh my God.” I could hear the grin crackling through the phone. “You have been seeing him.”
“Can we not?—”
“No, we absolutely can,” she said brightly, ignoring the edge in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Lennox. And you didn’t tell me? I’m hurt. Betrayed, even.”
“You’re also nosy as hell, Snips.”
“Yes, but with love.” Her voice softened. “How long?”
“A while,” I said, after a pause. “Couple months. Not the whole time. We weren’t really…anything at first.”
“And now you are?”
“I don’t know what we are.”
“But it’s more than nothing.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Silence on my end was its own confirmation.
She pounced. “Oh my God, have you kissed him?”
“Lena—”
“Have you kissed him more than once?”
“Jesus.”
“That’s a yes.” She was practically giddy now. “Okay, but is it good? Tell me it’s good. Tell me he makes you laugh.”
I closed my eyes and smiled, rubbing a hand over my face. “He’s ridiculous. And yes. He’s…infuriating. In the most charming way imaginable.”
There was a pause on the line. Then she said, “You sound happy.”
I looked out across the field behind the gym, where the sun was sinking low, thick and heavy like a yolk split across the sky.The grass was patchy still, brown at the edges, but warming up. I could feel the glow on my arms, even through the sweatshirt I hadn’t taken off yet. And yeah. I was smiling. Quietly. Stupidly.
“I am,” I said. Then added, too quickly, “But it’s not…it’s not serious.”
“Are you sure?”
“I have goals, Lena. Deadlines. There’s a timeline, and I can’t afford to lose focus now.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I’m not saying you should drop everything for him. I’m just saying…the way you talk about him? It doesn’t sound like something casual.”
I didn’t respond. Not right away. Because I could feel it happening—the pullback. The part of me that always flinched when something got too real. Like seeing the Olympic gold two strokes away, freaking out, and letting someone else snatch it away from me. I could practically hear the tide in my head, receding from the shore, dragging sand with it.
