I watch London as she sits on the front of the boat, the air whipping her blonde hair around as we float across the water on my boat. She didn’t say much after I found her on the dock and she followed me over to ours. I helped her get on board and she took her place near the bow before we pulled away.
Part of me is curious how the talk went with her brother, but I can tell she’s still troubled by it all. There was a look of torment in her eyes when I first approached her. It’s not my business and I’m not one to push for information. My mother asked me to be here for her as a friend, so that’s exactly what I’m doing.
I’m giving her the same space and respect that I wanted from everyone else.
If she decides she wants to talk about it all, I’ll be here to listen. If she doesn’t want to, that’s completely fine too. I know what it feels like to be pushed to talk about things you aren’t ready to talk about. I would never put London in that position. When she is ready, I’ll be here.
We drive around for a little while, cruising past other boats and people that are out on the lake. Thankfully, we don’t end up running into any friends, so it’s just the two of us. London glances back at me and points over to one of the coves.
It’s one that we used to frequent a lot when we were younger. The perimeter of the cove is lined with cliffs that we used to jump off. A few years ago, after some kid was wasted and got hurt after jumping in, they closed it off from anyone being able to access them. It’s still the perfect place to go swimming and it’s like our own little private area, since no one else is here right now.
I pull the boat into the center of the cove and kill the engine. The water is deep here, too deep to safely drop the anchor, so I just let the boat float as I get up from my seat and walk over to where London is. She turns around to face me, a touch of sadness in her eyes as they drop down to my bum knee.
I take a seat on one of the plush bench seats near the front. The scars on my knee and thigh are visible and I watch London as she quietly inspects it from a distance. I don’t like people looking at them, but something about the way she is staring at me extinguishes any feelings of self-consciousness.
“It’s pretty ugly, isn’t it?” I ask her, although it comes out more like a statement. The scars look angry and after the multiple surgeries I’ve had, there’s no way to miss the way it had left some deformities on my leg.
London’s gaze meets mine and her hazel eyes stare directly into my soul. “I disagree,” she murmurs as she rises to her feet. I watch her carefully as she kneels down in front of me. I’m curious but unsure what she’s doing.
Her fingers graze my skin as she pushes the bottom hem of my swim trunks farther up my thigh. She drags her fingertips across the scars, tracing each one. She takes her time and a shiver pulls up my spine as a warmth builds in the pit of my stomach. My body is rigid and I sit completely still as she continues to trace the ugliness of my leg.
“We all have scars, Vaughn,” she murmurs, looking up at me through her lashes. My throat feels dry as I stare at her on her knees in front of me. “They become a part of us and mix with the beauty. There’s nothing ugly about them at all.”
My breath hitches and I’m momentarily lost in her eyes. Other than the doctors or therapists, no one else has ever touched my injured leg. Hell, no one has touched me like this in years. It’s foreign, yet it feels right. I’m not sure that I want her to stop.
“Don’t be ashamed of them,” she says softly as she pulls the hem of my swimming trunks back down. “Nothing about you is ugly. Not even your attitude,” she adds with a smirk and a wink.
I’m still speechless as I watch her rise back to her feet. She grabs the bottom of her tank top and lifts it up over her head before tossing it onto the bench beside me. My eyes travel over her torso, memorizing every inch of her flesh. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her in a bikini, but it’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to really look at her.
She slides her hands under the waistband of her pants and pushes them down to her feet. I watch as she steps out of them and bends down to pick them up. Her bikini is solid navy blue and it fits her perfectly. It’s a contrast against her tanned skin. I fight the urge to reach out for her, even though I’ve already felt her in my lap before.
Without another word, London flashes me a smile and walks back toward the bow of the boat. She doesn’t stop walking until she’s stepping off the boat, sinking beneath the surface of the lake. I rise to my feet and walk over to the edge, watching as her head breaks through the top of the water. She lifts her arms, smoothing back her wet hair as she treads the water with her legs.
“What are you waiting for?” She smirks up at me as she lays flat on her back and pushes through the water with her arms. “Get in.”
I stare down at her, mesmerized by the way she floats on the surface of the water. Her eyelids flutter shut and her hair fans out around the top of her head. The sun shines down from the sky above us and it creates the illusion of a halo around the crown of her head. She looks ethereal and mystical as she slowly moves her arms back and forth.
She moves farther away from the boat and I move closer to the edge. Stepping out toward the water, I keep my legs completely straight with my arms pressed down against my body. The surface of the water feels warm as I glide through it but it gets colder the deeper that I sink. Blowing out through my nose, bubbles begin to rise and I stay where I am, holding my breath as I let my body sink for a moment.
My lungs begin to scream in protest from the lack of oxygen. Lifting my arms, I press my hands together before bringing them back down to my sides in a sweeping motion. I repeat it a few times while simultaneously kicking my feet until I’m breaking through the surface of the water. London is no longer floating on her back and she’s close to me with her eyes wide.
“You scared me for a second there,” she breathes as she continues to tread water. I run my hands through my hair, brushing it away from my face as beads of water drip down my temples.
“I wasn’t under for that long.”
“Yeah, but the water’s dark. I couldn’t see anything and I wasn’t sure where you went,” she says as her eyes bounce back and forth between mine. There’s relief in her gaze, but the panic is still evident in her voice.
“I’m right here, London,” I assure her, my voice low.
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard and nods. She puts her sunshine mask back in place and flashes a shy smile at me. “Do you have any floats or anything? This treading water shit is for the birds.”
The corners of my lips twitch. “I think we might have something on there,” I tell her as I begin to swim back toward the rear of the boat where the ladder is. I half expect London to follow after me, but she stays where she is in the front.
As I climb up the ladder, I can feel the annoying throbbing in my knee. It’s nothing crippling, just enough of an annoyance to let you know it’s there. My doctors offered me pain medication and different treatments before, but I refused them all. Physical therapy was the only thing that I was remotely interested in. I had heard too many horror stories about people who got addicted to pain pills.
My cousin Ander, who lives in Arizona, got injured and was prescribed pain pills. It ended very badly. He spiraled down a dark road of addiction after he graduated to heroin. Thankfully, he’s doing much better now. He’s settled down with a girl and a kid after he went through multiple rounds of treatment.
Since we live over a thousand miles away, I didn’t see firsthand what it was doing to him, but my aunt Hera talked constantly to my mother. I heard the horror stories of his addiction and I was not about to put myself and my family through the same thing if I ended up getting addicted to pain pills.
After seeing what happened with Ander, I stayed as far away from pills as possible. I would rather deal with the pain than travel down that darker path.
I find two blown-up floats in the downstairs part of the boat. After grabbing them, I make my way back to London, who is waiting patiently for me. She looks like she’s getting tired from treading water, so I quickly toss one to her before getting in with my own.
“My lifesaver,” she breathes, smiling brightly at me as she climbs onto the raft.
For the first time in a long fucking time, I can’t fight the smile that takes over my lips. She thinks I’m her lifesaver for throwing her a measly little blow-up float, but she has it all wrong.
If there’s anyone who is saving anyone’s life, she’s the one doing the saving.
