Page 103 of Ominous: Part 1
Water streams down his face, hair falling into his eyes. It takes me a moment to understand him, what he’s feeling. But when he slashes his hand through the water, spraying me with it, droplets flecking along the timer—two minutes, fifty-five seconds, still ticking upward—I realize he’s… pissed off.
For some reason, the violence of his temper, even just in the spray of water, it makes it hard to look at him.
I stare at the watch instead.
“Don’t do that.” His voice is quiet. Quieter than usual, hard to hear over the pouring of the waterfall, at his back. “Don’t ever bring me up again.”
I frown, my eyes still on the numbers, but in my head, I see him on his knees in the pool, temple pressed to my stomach. “You could’ve died.” I’m not sure how long people should be able to hold their breath. Maybe it’s three minutes. Maybe this is nothing, and it’s why he’s angry, because he didn’t get to show off enough.
He dips his chin as I look up at him, his brows raised. His collarbones shift, every muscle in his body hard with veins thrumming beneath his skin like livewires.
But his jaw relaxes, and I watch his hands uncurl in the water, splaying wide.
“I won’t die, Eden.” It’s like a reassurance. A promise to me.
I let my eyes drop, to the faded bruises on his chest. Then up, to the black choker around his throat. For some reason, I’m not sure I believe him. He isn’t immortal, even my drunk mind knows that, but what he really means is,I won’t die soon.
And all I can think is,you’ll leave me.
I’m not sure they’re the same things.
He takes a deep breath, his chest rising, then falling, and he steps toward me, moving fluidly in the water, like he belongs here.
“Do you want to try?” he asks softly. He isn’t smiling as he blocks out the sun, towering over me and making it easy to see the soft freckles on his cheekbones, the thin skin beneath his eyes, full of pale violet bruises from not getting enough sleep. Is that my fault? Do we talk too much? “Maybe you can beat me,” he adds.
“Will you save me?” I mock myself, not bothering to hide my smile, even though I don’t quite feel it. The tense moment between us is still there, and it’s not sexual tension. It’s the residue of his flash of anger.
It reminds me of the spark of violence I saw in his eyes in Latin when that girl kicked his chair. It was reflected inside my own thoughts.
He grabs the watch from my hand, slowly pulling the string off of my wrist, and I’m thankful my other, with the bracelets, is ducked into the water. He uncurls the string, places it over his neck where it hangs at his sternum. Without looking, he presses the button on the side, stopping the time, then the button above it, resetting it. He didn’t even bother checking the numbers, and I guess it wouldn’t have mattered since he was already out. It would be like cheating to him.
Useless.
He takes another step closer. “Do you want me to? Save you?”
I shake my head, smiling. “Let’s do this.” I don’t want to think about a deeper meaning to his words.
I’m not verygood at this game.
I last thirty seconds the first time, and this time, when I pop above the surface, ready to give up and drink again, he announces I was under thirty-three seconds.
My footing is unsure in the pool and I stumble against him, my hands on his chest, a smile on my lips and the beginnings of a sunburn, despite my best efforts, across my shoulder blades. He grips my upper arms, laughing a little as I catch my breath, tilting my head back to look up at him, chlorine water dripping down my eyelashes, over the tip of my nose. I have to blink my eyes to clear my vision, but I’m still stuck on the number he told me, the stopwatch swaying against his chest.
“Multiple threes are angel numbers.”
His smile widens, a dimple flashing in his cheek. “Well you are a little angel, aren’t you, baby girl? So fuckingholy.”
My face feels hot and I dip my chin, glancing at the blue water lapping between us, against his abs, my lower ribs. “I think I want another drink.” I mutter the words, still staring at the surface of the pool, his fingers indented in my upper arms.
Then his grip changes, sliding down my skin, wrapping around my waist as he pulls me close.
My heart leaps to my throat, and I don’t look up, my brow pressed to his chest, an out of place laugh coming from my mouth.
“Yeah?” he asks me, his words against my ear, the little hairs all over my body standing on end. “What if you tried it just one more time, huh?” His lips ghost over my skin. “For me?”
The laughter dies from my lips, but my chest is still heaving when I pick my head up to meet his eye. I feel warm but free, loopy, a little giddy, and with his smooth skin beneath my fingertips, his arms locked around me, I think I mean what I said to him before, all over again.I’d do anything you told me to.
I sigh, the sound exaggerated. “Okay.”
