Changing Tides 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

A bead of sweat drips down my forehead as I lug the last bit of my belongings through the living room hallway. Jordan watches me from the couch. Her crazy cat shirt has been replaced with a simple, blue tank top...with a string of blinking lights sewn across the bottom of it.

I stop short, panting and leaning against the wall to catch my breath.

"Festive shirt," I say.

Jordan glances down at her blinking shirt before giving me a stern look. "You're not allowed to borrow it. You'll stretch it out."

I smirk. "Thanks for the help, by the way."

Jordan hasn't moved since I got home with my first carload I unpacked from the storage unit. On the second trip she even stretched across the couch and yawned. She gestures down to her blinking shirt and shrugs.

"I don't want to get my shirt all dirty. This is dry clean only, you know."

I snort and shake my head at her wit. "Right, right. How'd your test go?"

This time Jordan glances up. She looks surprised, but the look quickly vanishes. "It went alright...thanks for asking."

Her gaze seems hesitant as she glances down at her book again. She knows I'm not flirting; I'm just being nice. Based on her reception of it, though, it appears she's not used to it. I think of the unused ashtray again. She doesn't have many friends. And I am need of a good one.

The two of us being friends is an odd pair, but some of the best friendships are.

Maybe moving here wasn't such a bad idea after all.

______________________

I finish unpacking all my things just in time to make it early to afternoon practice. Once again I do all I can to ignore the other swimmers, pushing myself as hard as I can to finish just a second before everyone else. I have to prove myself. I have to.

All the lactic acid built up in my legs pulses through my muscles as I hoist myself out of the pool and wobble towards the bleachers. My towel sits at the far end, and the soft fabric moves across my shoulder and soaks up the droplets of chlorinated water. Every breath burns as I exhale. All my other teammates continue their practice behind me, their kicks slapping against the water in orchestrated chaos.

I stiffly walk to the locker room. The buzzing silence melts away the chorus of noise behind me, and my shoulders slump as I welcome the moment of solitude.

Only it's not.

I round the corner and collide with a hard, muscular chest.

"'Scuse me," I mumble automatically.

Familiar, green eyes back at me. Bennett. How the hell did he make it in here before me? I was sure I had gotten done with practice before everyone else...

My lungs burn as I side-step away from him. Every single inch of me tingles with awareness. I prepared myself to see him at practice, but I wasn't ready to see him alone. Not yet. Heat circulates through my stomach and swarms into my chest. My ears are ringing from the silence, waiting for him to say something. He shifts position, turning to face me while I hover in front of my locker.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

A row of goosebumps breaks out across my skin as his delectable voice seduces my eardrums. I thought hearing it would piss me off, but it has the opposite effect. Instead it stirs that familiar hunger deep within me. Which, in a roundabout way, pisses me off even more. It pulls me back to our moment of intimacy, that same voice whispering in my ear and moaning as we fooled around.