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  The fun, laid back Knight from lunch and backboarding is gone. The hard Knight is back. The one who stormed away from me in the water while spitting vitriol about not wanting to work with me. It’s like having someone throw ice water in your face just when you’re getting used to the sunshine.

  One minute he is making out with me like he can’t let me go, the next he’s storming away.

  Now he’s slumped over his steering wheel, arms at his sides.

  He’s as changeable as the ocean, and probably just as dangerous and powerful. But like the ocean, he draws me in, and I can’t pull away.

  Chapter Two

  Knight

  “Camille.”

  I yell it again, gathering her into my arms. She’s not moving and her lips are blue.

  I hold her to me and wait for the ambulances, but I know. I know deep down in a cold, cold way that she’s gone. No point in CPR now, and I just want a few last moments with her.

  I stroke the hair from her face. Her skin is cold but she’s just as beautiful. Love washes over me in a warm, unwelcome wave that seems to light up the dark room. I should hate her. Maybe I will later, but right now…

  I just want to hold her while I can.

  I only hate myself. I hate myself for falling in love when it was hopeless, I hate myself for never being enough for her, and I hate myself for not being able to save her.

  I hate myself for not understanding her. She’s told me how it feels, how she can’t control it, how much she doesn’t want to hurt me, but she just can’t stand it anymore.

  She’s told me how she can’t get him out of her head, how she can’t stop seeing him, feeling him.

  I told her to just see me, to just feel me. She couldn’t. He was always there, always there and no way for me to fight him.

  I pull her closer, between waves of numbness and grief. I brush her hair back. At least she’s not in pain anymore. She’s not suffering now. That’s all that matters.

  I hold her tighter. The pain hits in totality when I realize how badly I don’t want to let her go. Not to the ambulances, not to the hospital, and not to the coffin.

  Sirens sound outside. They’re coming. They’re going to pull her out of my arms. I wrap around her, wishing to have rigor mortis stiffness so I can clamp around her. They can’t take her. They can’t. She’s here, and as long as she’s here in my arms, as long as I’m holding her, it isn’t really true. Everything is okay.

  We’re going to make it. This is all a dream. We’re going to make it, Camille. We have everything to hope for. Everything to live for. Sure, things have been hard, but we haven’t come this far to lose now. We’ve just got to take it day by day. Please don’t leave now.

  But they’re here, like an unwelcome swarm. They’re a plague, and when they take her from me, she’ll really be dead. Two people bend around me, one a man, one a woman. I wrap tighter around her. It’s hopeless but I’ll never give her up, because as long as she’s still in my arms this isn’t real. I can feel her against me, I can feel every curve of this body I know so well, and I know she’s meant to always be with me. Against me. Beside me. On my chest on my bed while we listen to the rain falling outside. As long as I can touch her like this, I don’t have to live without her.

  I don’t have to wake up tomorrow knowing she’s gone. I don’t have to look in the mirror and see a man who failed to save the only thing he cared about.

  I don’t have to think about all of the lost dreams, about the things we talked about as I held her hand and we watched the stars out in the park. I don’t have to think of the children I wanted to have, with her eyes and my hair.

  I don’t have to think about the nights spent in the ER with her where I held her hand and knew that we’d always get through stuff like this, we always had. She’d smile weakly at me and squeeze my hand and tell me she was sorry. I never knew if she was sorry she’d tried or sorry she’d failed.

  Open your eyes, Camille. Please, tell me you’re sorry.

  It’s all coming back. Rain is bringing it all back. I lift my head from the steering wheel where I rested it during the memory. I told Rain to go on ahead. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

  But she makes me think of Camille. I should have known from the moment my eyes found her at the bonfire, and it felt like a part of me was waking up after a long nightmare. And then when I followed her into the water, like she was a siren.

  I should have known the minute I started liking her during training, despite wanting to hate her for coming in and screwing up my system. She interests me more than any chick has in a long time. Now I know it’s because she reminds me of my ex. I just don’t know why.

  I pull open the creaky, metal back door and walk back into work. The humidity of the air and the potent smell of chlorine draw my focus back to where it should be. Camille is fading away. I have guards to train, I have stuff to do. I don’t have to think about anything but this. Otherwise people could die. No other job could be this intense with so little training.

  It’s my escape. That feeling of life and death hanging in the balance is the only thing that gives me relief.

  So I wanted to hate Rain. It’s not as intense if I’m sharing the responsibilities of the deck with her. If she takes any of my work, she’ll give me space to think, and I just don’t need that right now. Especially since lately my thoughts involve her, even when I don’t want them too. Damn.

  Sure, she’s handy with a backboard, and when she smiled at me while we completed the perfect spinal, I swear my heart rear-ended my ribcage.

  I look behind me to see her trudging along, rummaging in her nasty looking sack lunch. She’s one of the oddest people I’ve ever met. Beautiful, blondish, tall. Completely unaware of just how many people are staring at her, wanting her. Like me. Sure, I want her.

  She struggles under the heavy, swing-happy back door, nearly dropping her lunch. When I go back to hold the door for her, she scowls and walks under my arm.

  “I want everyone ready for deep drills in five,” she yells to the staff, before going into the break room to change. They’re huddled in little groups, discussing their bossy new sup and what they had for lunch and what they are doing after. A couple of the girls make eye contact but I walk past, disinterested.

  I set an example for them by taking off my shirt to get ready for drills. I ignore the catcalls that come every damn time I do it. At this point it just turns me off. I turn away from them to stretch with some privacy. A second later, more catcalls. I look up to see Rain coming towards us in her swimsuit. My stomach twists up. She has the weirdest effect on me.

  Her hair is pulled back severely and her face is makeup free, but her guard swimsuit accentuates everything but her lifesaving abilities. My guess is the male guards will forgive her for being bossy by the time she hits the water.

  Sure enough, silence and awe as she slips into the pool. I don’t know how anyone can be so beautiful and so irritating and so capable, but she is, and she ties me up in knots.

  I decide right in that moment. I’m going to watch out for her whether she likes it or not. She’s not Camille, but I kind of like that about her.

  She reaches up and someone tosses her a tube. But before she can speak again, Josh comes forward. He’s tall and built, with a shaved head and long scar running down one side from a boat accident. He’s the largest guard and my unofficial bouncer.

  “You said you’d show us whatever we wanted,” he says.

  “I did.” Rain turns up to him with an innocent smile.

  Josh smiles back, but I can tell he’s about to give her a hard time. “Show us an escape.”

  I frown. What the accident took from him in brain function, it seemed to add to him in muscle capacity. It’d be hard for anyone to do an escape with Josh.

  “I’ll do it Josh.” I step in between them, cursing my own overprotective nature.

  His face falls. “Why can’t she do it?”

  Because you’re a freaking giant, I thin
k. But before I can think of a real answer, she butts in.

  “He’s right. A guard should be able to escape any victim. Any one of you girls may need to do a water escape some day on someone Josh’s size,” Rain says, motioning for him to join her in the water.

  Josh nods, and I can tell he’s melting a little just because she’s agreeing with him over me. It rankles and I fold my arms uncomfortably.

  She tells the others what to watch for, then gestures for him to grab her. I can barely watch this. He wraps his burly arms around her and goes down. It makes me a bit sick to watch him hold her under. I never use girls for demonstrations like this. Just watching it makes me uncomfortable. Maybe that makes me sexist. So what.

  I watch them under the water, trying to make out what is happening in the blur. I try to keep calm. She isn’t going to die. Not like Camille. This is different. Now I know why I don’t do these drills with girls. Seeing her in trouble, not being able to do anything, it’s hard to keep the memories out. But I can’t look away. If she can’t do the maneuver, I need to be ready to rescue her.

  Luckily, after a few seconds, she emerges a few feet away from Josh, who then grins and comes forward to give her a pat on the back that nearly knocks her over. She’s won over the giant. I let the air out of my lungs and rub the center of my chest.

  She organizes the guards into pairs to run the drills and I jump into the pool. I grab her arm and pull her to the side. I like how easy it is to move her in the water, despite her height and bearing outside of it.

  “I don’t like using girls for demonstrations,” I say.

  “That’s sexist.” She runs her hands through her hair to comb it all back from her face. “Why?”

  “I don’t like seeing them hurt.”

  She shrugs. Like she shrugged off the warning about the guards at lunch. “Sometimes people get hurt. They could be guys or girls. If you have some sort of problem with seeing girls in those kinds of situations, maybe you should work on that.”

  “You say you want to protect the guards. Well, during training it’s safer to let guys like Josh practice with other guys his size.”

  “Is there anyone his size?” She quirks a perfect eyebrow at me and I can feel a nerve near my temple twitch.

  “No. But that’s not the point.”

  “Well…”

  “Can we just not?” I say, thrusting my hands in my pockets. I look up, hoping my puppy dog eyes work on her. They’ve never failed before.

  She grins at my attempt but shakes her head. “You can run drills how you want, as long as the guards are ready. I’m going to run mine equally to both genders.”

  I frown. I don’t want to run drills separately. I want to follow her around and protect her. She’s making me feel like an idiot just because I don’t like seeing girls in trouble. What guy does? No guy I’d be friends with.

  “Is something wrong?” She moves closer and studies me. Her eyes are yellow in the center, surrounded by gray-blue. “You were a bit off after lunch, and you’re looking a bit ill now.”

  “No.” Yes, something’s wrong. She’s beautiful and she’s waking me up when all I’ve wanted for four years is to be asleep. I’m not sure I like it. But I’m not sure I dislike it either.

  Rain

  Knight has serious sexism issues. I don’t even know how he’s managed to work here for four years without a lawsuit.

  I refused to do things his way and he’s brooding now, his dark brows are drawn together low over his gorgeous eyes and his lips are pressed into a tight line.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Why can’t I just run trainings my way and you run them your way?”

  “I think we should run trainings together.”

  “Why?”

  “Safer.”

  I struggle not to roll my eyes. This guy is unbelievable. “For the last time Knight, no one here sees me that way. I’m safe on my own.”

  “Hm.” He doesn’t look convinced, and just folds his arms slowly and takes a deep slow breath that he exhales.

  “Although, if you want to help me, you can start by helping me learn names.”

  “I can do that.” He puts his arms up on the edge of the pool and leans back beside me. “I mean, some of them are new this year to me as well, but I can do my best with the ones I know.”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  “If you’re willing to work with me.”

  I sigh, willing away the tension headache that dealing with him all day is starting to cause. “Fine. Now start with them.” I point to Amy, just to test him.

  “Neil. And he’s paired with Amy.”

  “You can’t just tell me names, you have to help me remember them.”

  “You already know both of them. I saw you sitting with them.”

  “Fine. And them?” I point to a pair of guys. One is tan with brown hair, and one is stocky with sandy blond hair.

  “Ah, see now those two? They might give you trouble.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s Dan.” He points to the blond. “And that’s Mike.”

  “So?”

  “They’re kind of the playboys around here.”

  “Irrelevant.”

  “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?” He shakes his head. “Anyway, hold a strong boundary with those two. They hit on anything that moves.”

  “Well, they are teenage boys. I’ll handle it.”

  “I’d rather you let me handle it,” he mutters.

  I ignore it. “And them?”

  “The blonde little one is Jennifer, and the big guy, her boyfriend, is Brandon.”

  I nod and then run over all of their names again in my head, trying to memorize them. Only a fraction of the names I need to learn.

  I need a break from the names, so I decide to throw him off guard again. “So, who’s Camille? Do I look like her?”

  The minute I say it, I wish I hadn’t. His easy camaraderie disappears, and he grows cold. Like he did before. I guess since he called me her name I feel like I have the right to know who she is. I’m not jealous or anything. That would just be stupid.

  He exhales for a long time, and for a moment I think he’s just going to walk away, but instead, he looks at me with pleading eyes. Is it just all of the pool water around here that makes them look so intensely turquoise?

  “I’m going to ask you, please don’t ask me about her again. I’m sorry for calling you her name. It was a slip up. That’s all.”

  “Okay.” I feel like I’ve stepped over a line I couldn’t possibly have known was there, but I can’t help feeling guilty for it anyway. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  But it’s not, and now it feels like we’re yards apart even though I can feel his arm above me and his presence next to me in the cool, wet air.

  “What drill should we run now?” I ask, stepping away toward the ladder.

  He looks up, a bit surprised that I’ve handed over the reins. I meant it as a lifeline. He takes it. “I think we should start training in the lazy river.”

  “Great. I’ll get the guards.”

  “No. Train me first.”

  “What?”

  “I haven’t trained there. I’ve seen videos, but well, you know. Train me first.”

  “But the guards.”

  “Jennifer over there is the swim lessons sup. I trust her to watch things here. I’ll give her another drill she can give them to keep them busy.”

  “Okay.”

  The lazy river winds in a long figure eight around the slides and lap pool, carrying patrons on tubes in a slow journey across the park. I’m going into it with him. Alone.

  For some reason it seems intimate and a little exciting, though I’ve done these drills so many times I can’t believe I am thinking of it that way. I can’t help but realize that soon, he’ll be touching me, and we’ll be alone. A little shiver runs over my shoulders as I jump into the river and I’m pretty sure it’s not just the cold.

  He walks over
and looks down, giving me an intimidating view of his legs, up to his narrow hips, then up to the wide spread of his shoulders. He jumps in, and the splash catches me in the face, effectively cooling me off.

  “What do you want to train?” I ask. “Spinals or just regular saves?”

  “Spinals. Just the stabilizing part.” He flops on his back. “Here, I’ll be the victim.”

  Shoot. I’ll have to grab him. I just lectured him on not taking gender into account while training, so why is it so hard to forget that he’s a man while I’m thinking about grabbing him.

  He mistakes my hesitation for disapproval. “You’re right, let’s do one face down first.” He turns over on his face and floats with the current. I wonder if he’ll stay there and drown if I don’t grab him. But unpleasant though it is, I’ll do my job.

  I swim up to him, line my arms up, and do the spinal, rolling him over in my arms. He blinks water away and smiles up at me. I’m sure my face is going red. I can’t help but be close to him as both of my arms are pressed against him, my hands to his jaw and the back of his head, my arms to his sternum and back, a vice going right up his spine and between his pecs. In a rush to get out of this position, I take him with the current towards the stairs.

  “Shouldn’t you turn me away from the current?”

  “Too narrow. I need to get you to the exit area where we can turn without your spine getting in any awkward angles.”

  He frowns. “Oh yeah.”

  I get him to the steps, turn him, show him how to hold someone in the current while waiting for backboard, and then release him.

  My hands cry in relief at not having to brace someone so big so tightly, and my heart cries in relief that I’m not touching him, face to face, heart pounding because he’s so close.

  I put a hand up over my heart. It just felt weird. Of course it only felt weird. If it felt good that would make me weird. And I’m not that kind of weird. The memory of us making out in the waves rises to the front of my mind and I blush again. Maybe a little weird.

  He taps my shoulder. “Your turn.”

  “What?”