However Do You Want Me... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 11

Tim asks Lucy to meet him in the pool later that afternoon so they can do some swim training.

After she changes, she takes advantage of the empty bedroom to take stock of the positions of the cameras, laughter bubbling in her throat when she realizes the only one with a view of Tim's bed has been strategically angled just so —enough to leave his bed out of frame, but not far enough off to flag that there's an obvious issue for anyone reviewing the footage. She shakes her head, amused, but not at all surprised. Clearly, she isn't the only one that isn't quite ready to put an end to their late-night shenanigans.

Down by the pool, Tim is sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs in nothing but his swim trunks. Sports Illustrated Leah is perfectly posed on the chair next to him, angled toward him with her head propped up on her arm, intently focused on their conversation.

And for a moment Lucy feels outside of her body, like she's seeing the situation from a stranger's perspective — observing a perfectly toned, tanned, and beautiful blonde couple lounging by the pool. And for the first time in a very long time, she doesn't see asshole Tim or stern T.O. Tim or concerned Tim or awkward Tim or even silly, flirtatious Tim who she is just getting to know, but instead sees the Tim Bradford that Leah must see — chiseled and masculine and self-assured and unbelievably gorgeous should-be-a-male-model-instead-of-a-cop Tim.

She feels the weight of something dark and sludgy in her stomach — a mix of emotions she isn't ready to understand or confront, a whirl of confusion and jealousy and insecurity and the kind of fear that is uniquely specific to stepping out on a limb, even though that doesn't make any kind of sense because she isn't actually out on any kind of a limb, and she has no reason to be jealous, does she?

Leah flashes Lucy a brief but not unfriendly smile as she approaches, seemingly having realized that being a bitch to his partner will do little to endear her to Tim. She gets to her feet, turning back to Tim, "I'll let you two train. But why don't you find me tonight so we can finish that conversation?" she suggests, before sauntering back toward the house.

"What's going on with you two?" Lucy asks, before her brain can catch up to her mouth.

Tim glances at her as he sits up, "What do you mean?"

"I mean — she's obviously into you, and she's obviously your type."

Tim frowns, brows knitting together in confusion, "My type?"

"Yeah... Blonde, blue-eyed, beautiful, fit..."

"What makes you think that's my type?"

Lucy shrugs, "I don't know... Isabel, and Angela mentioned your ex before her was also..." she trails off, suddenly feeling exposed and embarrassed that she's even brought this up.

Tim gets to his feet, expression unreadable as he meets Lucy's gaze one final time, "Yeah... and? I also dated Rachel, and plenty of other women that wouldn't be 'my type' according to you. I don't have a type, boot. Are we swimming or what?"

Lucy inwardly cringes as Tim drops into the pool, not entirely sure how or why, but certain that she's managed to upset him.

***

Normally, exercise is a more than welcome distraction for Tim, but the monotony of the laps does little to divert him from his confusion over the exchange with Lucy about his type. Confusion over how she could possibly think he has any interest in anyone but her when she is literally the only woman in the house he makes any actual effort with. Confusion over how, after last night, she has any uncertainty about just how attracted he is to her. And confusion over why the idea of her being jealous... isn't the worst thing...

That is assuming she is actually jealous, and not just completely unaffected by all of the things Tim is trying hard not to think about.

He hasn't put much thought into the undeniable intensity of the physical attraction between them. Hasn't put much thought into how much he wants to be around her all of the time. Hasn't put much thought into why every time he lays eyes on her, he is imagining doing things to her that would cause the Professional Code of Conduct to spontaneously combust. And most certainly hasn't put much thought into what any of this actually means, because thought is the absolute last thing he needs to get through this idiotic competition with any hope of getting back to his life as he left it, and not entirely destroyed by the implication that he'd taken advantage of his rookie. And that is definitely not a thought he wants to entertain further as he surfaces in the shallow end, his feet finding the bottom of the pool.

***

Lucy joins him after one more lap, "Is that good for today?" she asks breathlessly, still working to recover from the workout.

Tim nods, clearly impressed, "You weren't kidding, boot. You really do swim better than you run."

Lucy rolls her eyes, "Uh... thanks?" She crinkles her nose, "Can we stop with the 'boot' stuff? Look, I'm sorry about earlier. The Leah thing — it's none of my business and I didn't mean to imply... I just —" she trails off, unsure of what exactly she just is or isn't.

Tim snorts, "Since when has something not being any of your business ever stopped you from sticking your nose in and meddling?"

Lucy's jaw drops, splashing water in Tim's direction as he backs away from the unexpected spray. "I do not meddle. I help," she sniffs indignantly.

Tim rolls his eyes, effortlessly sending a massive spray back in her direction, the scale of the shower shocking Lucy as it drenches her. "Is that what you're calling it?"

She gasps, still recovering from the shock, pushing her hair out of her eyes before resting her hands on her hips. She doesn't particularly care that her posturing is undermined by the fact that the lower two-thirds of her body is underwater. "That was rude. And yes, I help. I'm helpful. Need I remind you that I helped you? Multiple times."

And then she's lunging at him, hoping to catch him off guard and propel an equally effective amount of water back at him. But he sees her coming, gliding further backward while Lucy tries to find her feet. Her head dips under the water and she inhales in surprise, belatedly realizing that in her pursuit of Tim, she's crossed into water that is too deep for her to stand.

Tim immediately hauls her back up above the surface as she begins to cough and sputter, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he rubs her back. He glances bemusedly at the depth marker before pushing the strands of her wet hair back off of her face. "How are you so short?"

She coughs again in response, before rasping, "How are you so rude?"

Tim laughs, shaking his head before finally settling his gaze back on hers, rubbing his hand once more over her back, "You okay?"

She nods, suddenly hyper-aware of their closeness as she continues to cling to him, hyper-aware of the thick tension weighing down and charging the air around them.

And this time it's Tim's eyes that are traveling to her lips before he finally breaks the silence, eyes traveling back up to meet hers, his words again igniting that fluttery warm feeling inside of her, "For the record, Lucy, there's only one person here that I'd consider my type... and it's not Leah."