Page 21 of Surfaces
"I gave him the option of saying no. Even second-guessed him. He was quite offended that I could doubt his capabilities. He said, and I quote, 'It's child’s play.'" I pulled my palms up and gave a shrug trying to lighten the mood.
Keelan's mouth gave a twist that might have been amusement before it soured into a grimace. "I can't let him do that. He could get hurt. Or worse, he could score better than I would have!"
I let out a laugh, relieved that Keelan still had enough spark to be facetious. "How could that possibly be worse?"
"What will everyone else think? How would the rest of the guys look at me?"
"You barely survived yesterday--they'll think you're lucky to be here at all!"
"Or they'll resent all the strings you're pulling for me."
"Well if they do then they're out," I said dismissively. "They're obviously asses and I have no need of those. My own ass is big enough."
That did earn a chuckle from him. "I refuse to argue about your ass. There is zero possibility of that discussion going well for me."
"I don't know. You could compliment it," I suggested as Mr. Whelk paddled closer, wiggling his neck and dangling his bit of seaweed, trying to entice us into a game. I grabbed onto one end of the weed, taking pity on the poor creature. We wrestled for a minute in silence while Keelan thought over my proposal to substitute in Felipe.
Eventually, he sighed. "Everything's different now. One second and just … boom."
I dropped the end of the seaweed strand, ignored Mr. Whelk's disappointed whine, and turned to study Keelan's downturned face.
"I just feel like it will be better for everyone if I quit."
He was so infuriatingly stubborn! Couldn’t he see how badly I wanted him here? “The only thing you’re going to quit doing is wearing that hangdog expression,” I chastised. I fluttered my betta fish fins and rose up from our shared seat, turning sideways so that my knees brushed his as I loomed over him, forcing him to look upward.
My words were charged with emotion that I couldn't hold back. "You think I don't know what it's like for life to change from one breath to the next?Think again.Of all the men in this tournament, you are the only one who now shares that experience. You're also the only one even close to my age. And you happen to be funny and adorable. With six-pack abs. So, if you think I'm just going to let the perfect man swim away … think again. You'retaking the substitute."
He stared silently up at me for longer than I would have thought possible, as my confession repeated inside my skull, bouncing around inside, sounding more desperate and pathetic with each internal echo.
Shite. That was too much. Too intense. I've gone and scared him.
The press of his lips into a tight line worried me and I quickly sat back down next to him, dragging his uninjured hand onto my lap as I feared that he'd just swim off.
My chest tightened in anticipation; I couldn't hold his eyes, my gaze dipping down to study his hand for a moment, eyeing the scabbed skin of his knuckles before I reverted to the type of communication he was used to. “Excuse that little outburst. It was a lie. A cover-up. I’ve grown quite attached to Mr. Whelk, you see. And I couldn’t possibly bear to lose him.” I bit my lip, and while I kept my words playful, I couldn’t stop my truth from leaking into my eyes.
He looked up and studied me silently for a second and something brewed between us—something tender and soft.
“We don't even know if I'll be able to do the next competition.” His words were hardly more than a whisper as he squeezed my fingers with his good hand.
“First off, the only test of strength is the first. The other competitions—while I didn’t design them—are supposed to test things like your wit. I can see why that might intimidate you,” I raised my brows and gave him a hugely haughty look, trying to imitate Lady Agatha from back in Evaness. “I mean, your own mother calls you an idiot.”
Keelan chuckled softly. “Right. So, you acknowledge that I’m at a clear disadvantage.”
“Are you? Still, though. Even if your skull’s a bit thick and you fumble the next competition, you just have to be middling to avoid elimination.”
“I don’t know if my ego could handle scraping by.”
I squeezed his hand. “Then perhaps you’ll have to work harder. If Sahar’s right, it will be the first time in your life—”
“Stop talking about my mother.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want her in my head while I think about kissing you.”
A soft pink glow lit me up inside. “Oh, you definitely don’t want to kiss me.”
“I don’t?”
