PRESTON HAD LOST count of the number of laps he’d done. For sure he was beyond the hundred he’d promised himself before jumping in. He cursed with each stroke as his arms cut into the water, propelling him forward. Or was it backward? He was no longer aware what direction he was going. All that mattered was that his body carved a swath across the empty blue expanse. It was the middle of the night. He had the place to himself.
The seclusion should have been a good thing. In this case, it left him to his thoughts and the confusion that roiled within him.
Worst of all, he’d lost all control of his breathing. His lungs burned. His muscles ached. Yet the gnawing feeling that he’d done something wrong hadn’t lessened one bit. In fact, it seemed the longer he kept going, the more confused he became. So he swam. Stroke after stoke. Lap after lap. Without a clear end in sight. He might just swim until he no longer could.
What had he done to make Nathan so mad?
The walk back to their hotel that night had been awkward. Nathan had marched ahead without looking back once—arms crossed and back hunched. When they got to their suite, he went straight for his room and hadn’t come out. Preston knocked a couple of times, but no answer. He’d even pressed his ear to the door and had heard nothing.
A fight he was prepared for. If Nathan was pissed at him, he was willing to fight for the hundredth time this trip. But the silence? It killed him. Nathan never ignored him. Not like this. The last time Nathan had gotten upset, he’d been watching Pretty Woman. If Preston heard nothing coming from the other side of the door, Nathan must have gone nuclear. And that scared the bejesus out of him.
He’d honestly thought he had been helping when the idea of pretending to be Nathan’s boyfriend presented itself. He’d even thought Nathan would find his actions hilarious. He had always been a sport, willing to go with whatever. Sure, the plan had worked. Nathan was no longer moping. But he might never speak to Preston again either.
Without intending it, he might have just cut their trip short. As crazy as it sounded, Preston was actually beginning to enjoy himself. Sure, he still checked his phone every other minute, but that was beside the point. He wanted to keep traveling.
A twinge in his shoulder finally broke his concentration. His overtaxed heart slammed against the wall of his chest in panic. Instead of tumbling and pushing off when he’d reached one end of the pool, he stopped. Instinctively, he clutched at his shoulder. He leaned his forehead against the tile and focused on regaining his breath. The scent of chlorine stung his nostrils, and still he breathed. He had to.
“Shit,” he said, shuddering.
This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No. Not now. His shoulder was fine. All the best doctors and physical therapists in the world had told him so. But they had also warned him about overtraining. That night it seemed he had succeeded in ignoring their warning.
He forced himself to calm down, recalling what his PT had told him over and over. Breathe through the pain. It would pass. Until then, no moving. If there was a tear, he would only know after the initial throbbing passed.
In the meantime, he prayed. To anyone who would listen. He prayed. For his shoulder to be all right. For Nathan’s forgiveness. For anything and everything to be all right. He needed it to be all right.
“Pres?”
Nathan’s voice cut through the almost overwhelming terror that shook him to his very core. He wanted to reach out. Ask for help. But he was too afraid to move. Too afraid to find out if his career was over.
Over the thundering of his heart came the slapping of feet on tile and a palm on his shoulder, right above his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Don’t say anything,” he repeated over and over through gritted teeth.
The touch receded.
It might have been minutes. It might as well have been hours. Finally his heart reached a cadence that resembled normal. Blood no longer pounded in his ears. The water finally felt cool against his overheated skin. The long-awaited recession of the stabbing pain had arrived.
Taking one last deep breath, he prepared himself to move.
“You can do this,” Nathan said in such a soft whisper, Preston wouldn’t have heard it if the pool area hadn’t been deathly silent.
The words gave him the courage he needed, recalling everything his PT had taught him. He rotated his shoulder. First forward then backward. There was a tightness there. Then he reached his arm out to his side, parallel to the water’s surface, and completed three arm circles. Again forward, then back. Nothing more than a slight pinch.
Preston allowed himself a sigh of relief. “I’m okay. The shoulder is okay.”
“See!” Nathan finally yelled, his worry spilling over. “I knew you’d end up injuring yourself.”
“It’s not what you think,” Preston said.
“Really?” Nathan took a step forward, eyes wild. “If you’re not obsessing about the results, then why are you here in the middle of the night?”
“I needed to figure shit out.”
“Care to enlighten me about whatever this shit is that you’re breaking your shoulder to figure out?”
Preston dropped his arm back to his side and looked up at Nathan through his goggles, water droplets obscuring his vision. “I’m sorry.”
His apology made Nathan hit pause on his building tirade. “What?”
He pulled off his goggles and cap. “For whatever it was that made you mad.”
Nathan drew the white robe he had on tighter around himself. “You’re here because of me?”
A quick nod.
Guilt colored the lines of Nathan’s face. “I think I might just be the worst person in the world.”
“Huh?” Preston tilted his head to the side. “You really have to fill in the gaps. If you tell me what I did wrong, I’ll make sure not to do it again. I promise.”
“No,” came the breathy reply. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I know you were just trying to make me laugh back at the pub.” Nathan bit his lower lip. “I don’t even know what came over me. And now you’re swimming yourself to death because of it.”
Preston’s gut clenched. “Hey, hey. I’m okay.”
“No. No, you’re not.”
“It’s just a muscle spasm. I’m sure of it.”
Nathan lifted his gaze and met Preston’s, remorse still all over his face. “I’m sorry for overreacting. I’ll try not to do it again.”
A corner of Preston’s lips quirked up. “Not going to happen.”
“I said I’ll try. I never said it would work.”
Like a breeze blowing away morning mist, the air between them cleared.
“How did you know I was here?” Preston asked.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Nathan said. “And I realized that the only way I could was if I unleashed fire and brimstone upon you. But when I left my room, you weren’t in yours. So I figured you were here.”
“Oh.”
“It doesn’t even matter anymore. Like I said, it was my fault. So get out of there and let’s ice that shoulder.” Nathan stepped back to give him space to push up against the pool’s ledge. But just as Preston thought his prayers were answered, Nathan added, “And no swimming for a couple of days. You’re grounded until we’re sure your shoulder is okay.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Nathan arched an eyebrow in challenge. “Or do you want to head into the emergency room right now?”
Sucking in his lips to keep from complaining and grinning, Preston shook his head.
“Good. Now come on. I need my beauty sleep.”
Preston grabbed the towel he had left on one of the lounge chairs and followed. He still had no idea what had caused Nathan’s anger, but he was willing to let it go for the chance to start over.