Crashed(book three)(79)

“I watched the replay.”

He doesn’t need to say anything further. I know perfectly well what replay he's referring to because I still can’t bring myself to watch it. “And how did you handle it?”

His body vibrates with an unsettled energy, and when he starts to shift beneath me, I can tell that he needs to release some of it. I move off his lap and when he rises and walks to the window, I sink back into the leather, still warm from his body.

Colton shoves a hand through his hair, tension evident in the bare muscles of his back as he looks out the window to the beach down below. He forces out a laugh. “Well, if you call a grown man crawling around on the f*cking floor naked while he dry heaves from the goddamn panic attack after every single f*cking feeling from the crash hits him like a sucker punch,” he says, voice thick with sarcasm, “then shit, if that’s considered handling it? Then f*ck yeah … I’d say I aced that motherf*cking test.” He rolls his shoulders and walks out of the office without a backward glance. I exhale the breath I’m holding when I hear the door to the patio slide open and then shut behind him.

I let some time pass, lost in my thoughts, my heart hurting for Colton’s obvious struggle between needing and fearing racing, and I stand up to go find him.

I walk out onto the patio and hear the splash of water before I see his long, lean figure slicing through the top of the water with graceful fluidity. He covers the distance of the pool quickly, reaches the end and does some kind of underwater flip and resurfaces before heading the other way.

I sit cross-legged on the edge of the pool and admire his natural athleticism—the rippling of muscles, his complete control over his body—and wonder if this absolute attraction I have for him has any limitations.

After a bit, he does his underwater turn at the edge farthest from me and instead of immediately starting his stroke again, he flips over on his back and floats, his momentum causing him to drift toward where I’m sitting. He looks so peaceful now, despite his chest expanding from his exertion, and I wish I could see this type of serenity in his features more often.

His torso rises from the water as he lowers his feet to the bottom and scrubs his hands over his face. When he removes them, he looks up, startled to see me sitting there watching him, and the most breathtaking smile spreads across his lips. He scrunches his nose up, reminding me of what he’d look like as a little boy, and any of my concern over his state of mind vanishes.

He walks over to where I sit, eyes locked on mine. “I’m sorry, Ryles.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “It’s hard for me to admit I’m scared to get back in the car.”

His admission shocks the hell out of me. I reach out and run a thumb over his cheek, never more in love with him than right now. “That’s okay. I’m scared too.”

He reaches out to my hips and pulls me closer toward him so he can kiss me. A brush of his lips and the scent of chlorinated water on his skin is all I need to feel right with him again. He starts to say something and then stops. “What?” I ask softly.

He clears his throat, licks his lips, and averts his eyes to the beach beyond. “When I get back in the car … will—will you be there?”

“Of course!” The words are out of my mouth and my arms are wrapped around his wet body instantly, a physical emphasis to my words. I feel his chest shudder and hear the hitch in his breath as he squeezes me tighter. I bring my fingers up and tease his hair with my nails as his face remains nuzzled under my neck.

I love you. The words are in my head, and I have to stop them from coming out of my mouth because the intensity of what I feel for him is indescribable. Unconditional love.