Page 25 of The Way We Are

I want to say more, but it isn’t needed when Savannah glances at me through a set of incredibly thick lashes. “Still not a lover of cheese?” she asks, the quirkiness in her voice shifting our conversation back into calm waters.

Happy to keep our exchange lighthearted, I fake a gag. “Nope. Still disgusting.”

Savannah’s gaze shifts to her feet kicking in the water, hoping to conceal her competitive grin as she pledges, “I’ll convert you one day, Mr. Carter. Just you wait and see.”

We sit in silence for several moments, the blistering sun not the only heat bristling between us. It has always been this way with us: a thousand words could be spoken, but since they aren’t needed to express our feelings, we remain quiet.

This is why I’m so terrible with words. I took such advantage of Savannah knowing what I was thinking, I never bothered expressing my thoughts. I guess that contributed to our downfall as well. Perhaps if I had been more vocal five years ago, years wouldn’t have passed in silence.

"What about you? Still afraid of the water?" I ask a short time later, my finger tracing the scar responsible for Savannah's fear.

Savannah never said what caused the scar melded with her left brow, but her hands darted up to the mark any time I coerced her into the water when we were kids. I don’t know if anything has changed, but Savannah was so afraid of drowning, she never learned how to swim.

Keeping her eyes planted on the water her feet are swirling in, Savannah nods. “This is the first time I’ve sat poolside in years.”

Fearing I may be revealing my cards too soon, I stand, yank my shirt over my head, then tug at the button on my jeans. The faint flutter of Savannah’s pulse turns dangerous when the sound of my zipper lowering breaks through the silence teeming between us. She's so quiet, the metal zipper descending sounds like a roaring tornado.

Smugness engulfs me when she doesn’t attempt to hide her ogle of my body as she drinks in my naked torso. Her eyes even bug when my I yank my jeans down my thighs. Although she's wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of cotton shorts, the visual of her blushing cheeks and wide eyes could only be better if she were naked. The tight fit of her clothes leaves nothing to the imagination.

After throwing my jeans and shirt a safe distance, I walk down the stairs Savannah is sitting next to. With her watchful eyes heating up every inch of my body, the water is cooler than it should be—thank god.

“I can’t,” Savannah whispers when I hold out my hand in offering.

“Yes, you can,” I assure her, my eyes never leaving hers. “You trusted me when we were eight. You can trust me now.”

The width of her pupils doubles as anxiety envelops her. “I didn’t bring you here to teach me how to swim, Ryan—”

“I know,” I interrupt, grinning. “You wanted me to fix your pool pump.”

The panic clouding her eyes dulls when she rolls them sky-high, the cockiness in my tone too extreme to ignore.

“I wanted you shirtless,” Savannah corrects, her voice as witty as mine.

I glide my hand down my torso, still visible since I’m only in waist-deep water. “Your wish is my command.”

I’m glad for the chilly water when Savannah smiles at my response, or she’d witness firsthand the effect her grinning face has on my body.

When her teeth graze her bottom lip, revealing she's contemplating my offer, I pledge, “Trust me. I promise I’ll never let you drown.”

Savannah is a sucker for promises. Whether it's a pinkie promise or one made for life, if Savannah issues you her promise, you can be assured she will do everything in her power to keep it. Although this isn’t quite the same thing, I’m hoping she accepts my promise with the same confidence I accepted hers last night.

“Did you say down or drown?” Savannah asks, the worry in her tone picking up steam with each syllable she speaks.

I slant my head to the side and cock a brow. “Whichever one will get you in the pool quicker.” My last two words come out in a hurry when Savannah splashes me.

“It’s not funny, Ryan. People can drown in less than a bucket of water.”

It's the fight of my life to hold in my chuckle. The only reason I do is because of the panic flaring in Savannah’s eyes. She's genuinely terrified. The constant raking of her teeth over her lip has made them extra plump, and her eyes are nearly black since her pupils are filling her corneas.

"Can I have both promises?" Savannah questions a short time later, the plea in her voice unmissable. “I don’t want to drown, but I also don’t want you to let me down.”

I wait for our eyes to meet before nodding. “You can have anything you want if it will get your sexy ass into the pool.”

I wasn't supposed to say the lewd remark out loud, but I'm glad I did, as it gives Savannah the confidence needed to lunge forward.

After wiping away the water from her splash, I band my arms around her back. “I’ve got you,” I say when her arms flap out wildly, her panic rising as steadily as my heart rate from having her body plastered against mine.

“Please don’t let me go,” Savannah pleads.

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