Page 19 of Gabriel
“Safe? From what?”
From you.I scream in my head, but don’t bother to say it out loud. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together, and given that he’s an athlete and that PacNorth requires all players to maintain a 3.0 GPA minimum, he can’t be this stupid.
“You think I’ll hurt you?”
And there it is. I knew he’d get there on his own.
I try to shrug, but the effect isn't the same when you’re struggling to stay afloat in nine feet of water. No such thing as a shallow end in a lap pool.
“I don’t know you,” I remind him. “I have no way to judge whether you’re capable or hurting me or not.” Though let's be honest, I can tell by just one look that he is very much capable.
Some weird little voice in the back of my head wants to believe he isn’t. Or at the very least, wants to believe that he wouldn’t try to. He did save my life, after all. But that doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, the potential to hurt me is there. He has the physical strength and ability to overpower me, and that’s reason enough to be leery.
“I saved you,” he snaps, indignation clear in his tone.
His honey-colored eyes darken, taking on an amber hue. My stomach does a flip and I jerk my gaze away.
Don’t look at the pretty boy with pretty eyes.
Come on, Cecilia, get it together.
“Yeah. Thanks for that.” Sarcasm drips from my words. “Look, can you just say or ask whatever it is you need to and go away? I’d like to get out of here sometime this century.” I try for haughty annoyance, but I’m not sure he’s buying it.
He surprises me when, without argument, he walks himself back, not stopping until his shoulders press against the far wall, leaving a good fifteen feet between him and the ladder now.
“I just want to talk. See how you’re holding up.” He nods to the ladder. “You can get out now. I’ll stay right here.”
I consider him for a moment, searching for the lie, but before I can come to a decision, my leg spasms again and I dip below the surface, taking in a mouthful of water. That makes the decision for me.
Pushing myself forward, I climb up the ladder, careful to keep him in my line of sight as I inch further away from himaround the edge of the pool. My legs shake and I know he doesn’t miss it.
Grabbing my towel from a nearby chair, I wrap it around me, but I don’t bother to take a seat no matter how fatigued I am.
If this conversation goes south, I need to be on my feet, ready to bolt if I have to.
“You know I won’t try anything, right? I’m not like that. I don’t hurt women.”
“Sure,” I say to placate him.
He curses under his breath, in Spanish I think. But I don't know the words. His harsh tone and expression are enough to convey his meaning, though. He’s not happy. Guess what? Neither am I.
“What’s your damage?” he demands in a clipped tone. “You're acting like I’m the enemy or some shit when all I did was carry you out of here when you needed help.”
“I never asked for your help,” I remind him. Is he expecting a thank you? I hope not, because he won’t be getting one from me. If that’s why he’s here, I hope he’s prepared to leave sorely disappointed.
Gabriel’s mouth drops open, eyes flashing in indignation. “Are you fucking with me right now?”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t ask for your help.” I wait, expecting him to tell me I’m stupid or to storm off in a huff, but he doesn’t do either of those things.
His eyes bore into mine, like he’s trying to peel back my layers to see what’s hiding underneath. His penetrating stare leaves me exposed, but it's his words that grip me, making my veins fill with ice as guilt and shame surge through me.
“You’re going to do it again.” He barks out a humorless laugh. “Aren't you?!” His loud voice booms through the empty room and I barely manage to keep myself from staggering back.
His eyes are unwavering. I know he wants to step forward. To crowd me. I can see it in the veins that stand out on his arms. In the tension lining his neck. He’s holding himself in place, not allowing himself to take a single step closer. But he doesn’t look away.
The hairs on my arms stand on end.
The way he says it, like it’s a statement. A fact. He doesn’t need me to answer because he already knows.
