Page 46 of Ruining His Smirk

“Hey.”

His eyes darted everywhere.

“I’m here,” I said evenly. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

From up above, the ship groaned as its weight shifted back the other way. I glanced at it. Too close. If another freak wave rushed at us, the ocean would simply lift us up and pin us against that massive red hull.

I kicked for the next several moments, focusing hard on getting us farther, careful not to jostle Landry too much. His breathing remained ragged, every inhale ending in another cough, and I could feel the frantic tension in every muscle as he continued trying to fight both the ocean and my grip.

Then, through another fit of coughing, he managed to force out a few broken words.

“You… are you okay?”

The question hit me harder than the freezing water and the hulking mass of death ever could. The buffoon had thrown himself into the Southern Ocean without the faintest idea what he was doing, and he was still worried about me. Had anyone else except maybe my parents ever done something so senselessly wonderful for me?

I couldn’t help smiling again, but of course he couldn’t see.

“All good,” I said. “Just another day in the water.”

I leaned close to his ear and spoke as clearly as I could as we both bobbed on the surface.

“Listen, handsome.”

His eyes widened. He stilled. Perfect.

“You’re panicking,” I said quietly. “If you keep thrashing around like this, you’ll wear yourself out and make it difficult for me to keep us afloat.”

I tightened my hold just enough for him to feel it.

“I’ve got you. I do this for a living, remember? Trust me, okay?”

He turned towards me, as much as the position would allow, and our eyes met again.

“I’ve got you, hero.” I winked.

He stared at me, but at least he had stopped fighting me. I could feel him beginning to help me. I nodded at the ship. “Lookup there. They are already lowering the Zodiac. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

* * *

The medical bay had soft white panels with beige stripes, making the space feel inviting and relaxing. The two examination beds stood several feet apart, with enough room for people to move comfortably around them, and were currently occupied by Landry and me. Both Landry and I had been stripped of our wet gear and bundled into dry thermal base layers, thick fleece jackets, and enough blankets that moving my arms required conscious effort.

Keith rolled a vital signs monitor between our beds. “Let’s make sure neither of you picked up anything more exciting than a good scare,” he said.

I glanced at Landry as Keith wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Landry had been studiously avoiding my gaze since the rescue. Keith repeated the process with me. Our eyes met, and Keith raised an eyebrow at the way I had been openly staring at Landry. I shrugged and blushed.

“Either of you lose consciousness?” Keith asked.

“Nah,” I answered.

“Hit your head on the way over?”

“Not my head, but my ribs,” I admitted. “I landed on the rail.”

Keith stepped over and lifted the blankets. He gently pressed along my ribcage, working methodically with his fingertips. He made another note on his chart. “Probably bruised ribs, but I’d rather be certain. I’ll order a chest X-ray once you’re warmed up, just to rule out a small fracture. In the meantime, I’ll get you some anti-inflammatories.”

He moved to Landry. “How about you?”

“No pain. My throat feels… rough.”