Page 53 of A Love Song for Dreamers

Suddenly I do, springing toward thepool.

But in the same moment, a form leaps over the fence from the direction of the studio and dives into the poolheadfirst.

My head thuds dully and my nails dig into my palms as Tyler cuts through thewater.

It feels like a lifetime before he emerges with Sophie, who’s coughing. He lifts her out and sets her on the side of the pool before hefting himself out, his jeans, T-shirt, and jacket soaked and his hair black anddripping.

I race toward them, my arms wrapping around her wet form. “Oh my God. Are youokay?”

I pull back to look in her pale face. She’s breathing, though blinking anddisoriented.

When her coughing relents, she mumbles. “My red sister truck was in thepool.”

I look over the edge to see the red truck on the bottom. My stomach plummets as I wrap one of the towels still clutched in my hands aroundher.

Tyler’s voice is low, shaken. “I’ll get hertoy.”

He wrenches off his drenched jacket, but before he can shift away, I clamp a hand around his wrist. I can’t stand the thought of him going anywhere right now. “No.”

“Annie, I’m soaked,” heprotests.

After a moment, his arms go around both of us. I don’t give a shit about his wet clothes. I need himhere.

“Areyouokay?” Tylermurmurs.

I shake my head. “I couldn’t move,” I whisper. “I panicked, and I couldn’t do anythingand…”

The backs of my eyes burn as my gaze drops to his hand, scarred andtattooed.

His face fills with understanding and an emotion I can’tname.

“It’s okay, Six. It wasn’t yourfault.”

Sophie squirms, and I shudder out a breath. “Let’s go inside and make a snack. How do Rice Krispies squaressound?”

“I don’t like squares. Can we make themcircles?”

Tyler’s face is pale, but his lips curve up in a ghost of asmile.

“Yeah, we can make them circles,” I hear myself say before dropping Tyler’s hand and rising. “You come inside too,” I tellhim.

* * *

“It’s so sticky.”Sophie’s digging into her first circle with fascination—I used a cookie cutter to make them—when Tyler comes in, his hair damp from the shower in the guestbathroom.

He’s dressed in a black T-shirt of my dad’s and jeans an inch too short, but he still looks handsome asever.

“I bet this is what you came back from LA for,” I tease, trying to keep it light. “Lifeguardduty.”

He steps closer, scanning my form. I’m still in my bathing suit, a towel wrapped over it. “You must be cold. I can watch Sophie if you want toshower.”

“Thanks. But I don’t want to let her out of mysight.”

I wrap my arms around myself and cut a look towards mysister.

She’s turning the pages of a picture book, happily dressed in pajamas in the middle of theday.

A week ago, I was barely part of this family. Now, it’s all I can thinkabout.

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