Break Me (Brayshaw High #5)(61)

What am I doing?

“Swimming.” I dip down until the water is just beneath my lips. “You gonna tell?”

He scoffs and slips closer, his face now half illuminated by the light. “Tell who, me?” he mocks. “Ain’t nobody else gonna get you in trouble.”

I roll my eyes and spin around, smiling at the resistance of my widespread fingers under the water. I face him again. “So am I?”

“Are you what?”

“In trouble.”

He studies me a long moment, and then he’s kicking his shoes off, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping his jeans.

He steps toward the water, the gleam of the moon catching and radiating off the chain that he leaves draped around his neck, allowing me to see it for the first time. Not that he realizes it.

It’s not too thick, reaches just below his pecs, and from it hangs a perfect circle, a crest-like charm that I can’t make out.

His hand comes up, rubbing along his stomach and my eyes fly to the spot, to the clean, tan satin of his skin that disappears into the silk of his boxers.

I swallow. “Your cocks are on.”

He smirks.

“Socks!” I shout. Oh my god, what is wrong with me?! “Your socks. They’re on.”

He ignores me and makes his way over to the diving boards. He climbs all the way up to the highest platform, and with ease and precision, dives straight in.

An exhilarating jolt shoots through me and I laugh, tracing the empty air back up to the top and then dunking under, searching for him deep in the dark water.

He swims right for me, and when he begins to rise, I do too.

My smile slowly fades as I stare at him, his eyes bouncing between mine.

“You like to swim.” He decides.

“I love the water.” I slide backward a few steps and he swims in. “We didn’t go outside during summer when we were little, so I never actually learned the whole swimming part. Sad for a Cancer, right? Water is supposed to be my element.”

A shadow slips over his eyes. “Is that supposed to magically save you from drowning?”

I laugh. “No.”

“So why’d you hop in the pool, in the dark, alone, if you can’t swim?”

“I don’t leave the shallow end. I just push off the side where I can reach, and glide from one corner to the other.”

“You can’t swim.”

I turn, kick off the edge and begin doggy paddling, but my body begins to sink so I let my feet fall back to the bottom. Laughing, I turn to him.

“I can doggy paddle, Playboy. Kind of.”

A grin pulls at his lips and he stands now in the shallow end with me. “That’s pathetic, even my niece’s doggy paddle game is stronger than that.”

I smile.

Royce’s face goes slack, realizing he’s, once again, slid out from behind the armor he’s built so strong around him, and this time, what slipped out was about something, someone, far more precious in his life.

He whips around, disappearing under the water.

A niece. He has a niece.

I want to ask more, but when Royce comes up, it’s right in front of me. He towers over me, a heavy warning in his shaky glare. “Forget what I said, do you understand? Mention her and I’ll—”

“I get it,” I cut him off in a whisper, and his face hardens, his nostrils flaring as he stares at me.

I give a small smile.

“You don’t have to do all that, threaten and warn me every time we have a conversation. It will only lead to me not wanting to have any more.”

“What makes you think I care?”

I can feel that you do, even if you don’t want to...

I don’t say that.

I shrug and glide back in the water. “I mean, you’re in the water with me right now. Kinda seems like you might not hate being around me, even if you do get mad at least once every time we’re around each other.”

“That’s ‘cause you piss me off.”

“You piss yourself off.”

He glares and I laugh.

I spin around, bringing myself closer to the wall where the water comes about halfway up my stomach.

Royce’s eyes fall to my triangle top and thank god for padded swimsuits.

“Come on, Playboy.”

Slowly, his eyes lift to mine.

“Teach me how to swim?”

He stares a long moment. “I’ll have to touch you.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “Is that a problem for you?”

“It will be for you.”

I tip my head playfully. “Oh yeah, how so?”

He scoffs, a small tug playing on his lips as his body suddenly loses all of its tension. He walks forward as fast as the water allows him to and smirks. “Clearly you’ve never been touched by a Bray.”

Oh, he’s got jokes.

Okay.

I plant my feet against the wall, grip the edge, turn to look at him, and smirk back. “I’ve never been touched at all.”

I kick off, holding my breath longer than I should as I glide through the water. When I pop up, it’s with a loud gasp. I look toward Royce.

He has yet to move his body, but his eyes, they followed.

I can’t see them from here, the moon now at his back, but I know they’re on me.