Jersey Six(53)

“Tell me more about Chris?”

Jersey peeked open one eye as Ian sat next to her, plopping his legs into the pool without rolling up his jeans. She laughed.

He smiled, leaning back on his hands too, his arm lightly brushing hers.

“There’s not much to tell. He came into Marley’s looking for a warm place to stay for the night. I busted his nose. He got up and kept nipping at my ankles like one of your little dogs.” She released a slow breath as they stared at their bare feet stroking the water. “I had nothing … he had less. And we lived happily ever after.”

“He’s your friend?”

She nodded.

“Is he more than your friend?”

Jersey shot him a sideways glance, squinting against the sun. “Jealous, Coop?”

He twisted his lips, keeping his gaze on the pool, stealing a few seconds of silence before answering. “Nope. Just curious. When I use the wrong word and you stomp off to the bedroom with him and stay there for three hours … it just makes me wonder what you’re doing in there with him.”

“Well, I’m not being made fun of for my lack of intelligence.”

“Jesus! I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“Chill out, Coop.”

“Oh, I’m chill, Jersey. You’re the one who needs to chill the fuck out.” He shoved her into the pool.

The average person in her situation might have felt pissed off, planning their revenge as they swam to the surface. Jersey found the surface, but only briefly because she couldn’t swim.

Her throat burned as her heart raced, limbs flailing. Seconds—that felt like minutes—later, an arm hooked around her body, just under her arms. Ian pulled her to the surface. Jersey tried to take a breath, but it caught, and she coughed. That caught too, making it painful, almost impossible to breathe in or breathe out. He propped her on the top step in the shallow end of the pool.

“Lean forward. Cough it out.” He pushed her hair away from her face and gently rubbed her back as she coughed, spitting up some water. When she could breathe without coughing, he framed her face and brought her head up to look at him. “I’m so … fucking sorry.” He kissed her forehead, wiped the tears from her face and the spit from her chin. “Jersey …” He hugged her.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder, draping her limp arms around his neck. “I—” Again, she coughed. “I can’t swim.”

Ian pressed a hand to the back of her head and kissed her cheek over and over. “That quickly occurred to me … after the fact. God … please, forgive me. I’m such an asshole. I’m so, so sorry.” He continued to kiss her face, everywhere except her mouth.

“I’m cold.”

“Okay. Let’s get you into some dry clothes.” He started to pick her up.

“I can walk.” She pushed him away.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and nodded, settling for resting it on her lower back. “Let’s take our clothes off here.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt.

Again, she batted his hand away, scowling up at him. She peeled off her own clothes and made eye contact again.

Ian rubbed his lips together and nodded several times, standing in front of her wearing just his boxer briefs. “You could have left on your underwear, but this works too.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You could have not shoved me into the pool so I wouldn’t be standing here naked and freezing.”

“I’m sorry.” He opened the door. “How many sorrys will be enough?”

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough.” She stood at the bottom of the stairs, teeth chattering, and pointed to the upstairs. “You’re not walking behind me up these stairs.”

He didn’t give her any resistance, which was the reason she didn’t give in to her impulse to knock his teeth out. That … and he looked disturbingly good in nothing but wet, blue underwear.

“Where’s your bag?” Ian turned at the top of the stairs, his gaze slipping for a second to her naked body before returning to her face.

She nodded to Chris’s room and started to grab the doorknob.

“No.” Ian grabbed her wrist. “The room at the end of the hallway. Wait there. I’ll get your bag.”

“Don’t make me cut your hand off, Coop.”

“With what? You have a knife shoved up your ass?”

“He’s seen me naked.”

Ian’s jaw clenched, but at the same time something vulnerable flashed in his eyes—a pleading of some sort.

“He’s seen me naked …” Jersey repeated in a softer tone.

Keeping his hand on her wrist, he slowly leaned down. “Can he not…” Ian whispered over her lips “…see you now? Can you be for my eyes only?”

Jersey blinked several times, feeling tension in her jaw too. But as he eased his grip on her wrist, she released the doorknob.

“Thank you,” he breathed into her mouth a second before kissing her.

She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting him slide his arms around her naked body, letting him lift her up, guiding her legs around his waist. Ian kissed her all the way to the bedroom at the end of the hallway. He closed the door behind them. And he kissed her more, taking slow steps toward the king-sized bed next to the glass doors to a private balcony.