There goes my therapy for today, I think to myself.
Hastily, I grab my goggles and rest them on my head. I glance up to see if the person is one of my teammates, but what I find halts my breathing. Tanner snakes into the water, gracefully picking up each plastic rope and ducking underneath, until he reaches the lane right next to me. I gulp down the last of my saliva when he casually swings back and forth on the lane separator closest to me.
He’s breathtaking with his goggles resting on the top of his head and his strong biceps holding his body up in the water. “I thought I’d find you here.” His classic smirk from last night is back in place.
“You did?” Immediately, I hate my timid and unsure voice. Even worse, the hopefulness it’s laced with.
“Want to race? Loser chooses Truth or Dare?” He doesn’t make eye contact with me. Rather, he peers across the empty pool.
“So I can lose?”
Every swimmer from here to California beats themselves up on their workouts, imagining their fingertips on that tile wall before Tanner’s.
He chuckles. “You know I only use half of my energy when I go against you.”
I cup my hand and drag it across the pool, splashing his face. He shakes his head, water droplets spraying off his divine features.
“Jackass,” I say, my back against the tile wall. I purposely don’t allow my body to win the fight to break the distance between us.
“I’m kidding. Come on.” His head nods toward the other end of the pool. “One lap.”
Then, out of nowhere, a confident creature rises within me. I want to pick his brain and dig through the layers to discover exactly why he sought me out in this pool so early in the morning and why his hands roamed places on my body they never ventured before last night. Most of all, I want to know how he left me without even a goodbye.
“What do I get if I win?” I raise my eyebrows at him a few times for competition.
Tanner is a wimp with Truth and Dare—for being a daredevil, so to speak. He’ll always choose truth.
Brad would pick dare, like ringing neighbors’ doorbells and running away or climbing trees before jumping into the pool naked, whereas Tanner would answer question after question. My friends would ask him what he wore to bed, boxers or briefs, while wanting to know whom he liked would be the question on the tip of my tongue. But I’d always shy away, too scared for the answer.
He stares down at his legs swinging them through the clear water before gracing me with all his attention. “What do you want?”
That’s a loaded question.
“Let’s start with truth.” I watch his lips slowly move up at the corners.
“Perfect.” He slides over to the middle of his swimming lane and positions his own goggles.
Staring over at me, he nods, and I nod back.
“One . . . two . . . go!” he says.
My feet push against the hard tile, and my legs automatically close and move through the water like a mermaid tail. From my peripheral vision, I catch Tanner instantly pulling ahead, but I try to disregard the sinking disappointment of loss so soon.
Coming to the surface, my arms propel, and I repeat my coach’s instructions in my head, Less wake and faster movement.
My breathing labors, and I can only focus on Tanner swimming in front of me in the next lane. He’s more than five strokes ahead. My arms slow down because I’ll never beat him, and I instintly face defeat. I tap the wall and sink under the security blanket of the water to gain my composure before Tanner can ask me a question.
I break through the surface, gasping for oxygen. Tanner’s already laughing as I swing my goggles off and toss them on the concrete edge of the pool.
“That was a close one. You’re improving,” he compliments me.
I hate the swell of happiness his remark entices.
“Not enough obviously.”
“Don’t do that to yourself.” He swims through the water and sways on the plastic rope again. He’s easy and casual at all times. “I gave a hundred percent on that one.” He laughs.
“Thanks.” I cock my head from his choice of sarcasm.
“Seriously, I wanted to win the bet because I have a question.” The humidity of the pool doubles just from his divulgence.
I nibble on the inside of my cheek, racking my brain for the question he might want to ask me. “O-okay,” I stutter.
He smiles, studying my face for a few seconds, and my heart beats faster.
“What’s your favorite restaurant?”
I laugh and crinkle my nose. “Favorite restaurant?” I question.
“Yeah?”
“I guess it’s Carsen’s.” It’s the local steak house in our hometown of Marlowe.
“Should have guessed you’d make it hard.” He shakes his head and retreats back to the wall before positioning his goggles back on.
“Make what hard?” I ask.
He gives a firm head shake once more.
“Again.” His strong muscles pull as they extend from the wall.
Confused but willing to try again at an impossible feat, I set into my starting stance after my goggles are secure.
“One . . . two . . . go!” he says.
This time, Tanner is either allowing me to stay with his pace, or he’s tired. I’m positive it’s not the former. Tanner McCain doesn’t let others win.
When my fingers touch the black tiled number six, I don’t plunge one last dip before surfacing. “You’re making this a close race, so I’ll do it again.” I point to Tanner.
He tries to display a straight face while adamantly denying my accusation, “No.” He doesn’t expand, but he wades back over to the plastic rope, never passing over into my lane.
“Ask.” I lean back on the other rope, relaxing my muscles.
He knows how to work me. By giving me a slight taste of winning, I’ll continue to strive toward victory.
“So eager,” he jokes.
“Let’s have it.” I open and close my legs through the water in an easy rhythm.
When I focus back on Tanner, I notice he’s staring intently on my movements, so I abruptly stop, clasping my legs together and tucking them down.
His eyes snap back up to my face. “What time is your meet on Saturday?”
“Why are you asking me a question you could look up on the pool wall?” I nod my head toward the schedules for the men’s and women’s swim teams hung up outside the locker rooms.
He shrugs his shoulder.
I answer, “Three.”
Just like before, he swims toward the wall and prepares himself for another round. “Last one?” he asks.
“This is pointless, Tanner. You’re going to win, so you might as well just ask me another question.” Exasperated, I don’t grab my goggles, but I remain swinging back and forth on the rope.
“It’s never pointless. Figure you’re getting your workout in. Plus, you never know. You could beat me this round. I feel a leg cramp coming on.”
“If you let me.”
I cock my head, and he chuckles. This—the banter of friendship volleying back and forth—is Tanner and me at our best.
“No. Come on. Last one,” he eggs me on.
Stupidly, I oblige. The combination of my competitive nature mixed with Tanner would make me go until my body sank to the bottom from exhaustion.
As soon as Tanner says, “Go,” I can tell he’s going easy.
The one glimpse I catch of him shows complete slacking on his part. So, I’m not surprised when I touch the wall one second before he does.
I take off my swimming cap, freeing my hair, and I dunk under the water. Taking a quick peek at Tanner, I smile because he allowed me to win, so I could ask him a question. When I surface, Tanner’s hand is running down his face until he spots me looking at him.
“Ask away.” He nods at me.
I shake my head in response. “You let me win, so it’s not legit.” I fight, not taking what I didn’t earn. Plus, I have to see how badly he wants me to ask him a question.
Tanner always has a plan, and I’m positive this game of Truth and Dare is part of whatever is going on in his gorgeous head.