Read Online M/M- Ripped (Boys Of Summer) by Mia Downing - Free Book Online
Authors: Mia Downing
Tags: Erotic Romance
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life vest and could let go of the line.
There was no tow rope, no life vest. Heart hammering, Erik dug in and swam against the current, stroking for his life, trying not to notice the shore was farther and farther away. Fuck. He was an okay swimmer. Not a good swimmer. Not like Gavin. Thinking of Gavin made him swim harder, faster. He finally had the chance to love Gavin, and he was going to fucking die? No way in hell.
He swam for what seemed like forever, fighting, his arms becoming like heated lead in the cold water, not gaining any headway. Fear swept in on the heels of adrenaline. Maybe…maybe he wasn’t meant to have more. He choked back the panic, the steadiness of his strokes faltering with each extension of his aching arms.
Erik faltered mid-stroke and sank, sputtering a mouthful of salty water. He heaved in a deep breath, his lungs screaming for more. His mind screamed for help, but damned if his mouth could form the words. He thought Gavin’s name again, hoping their creepy band of communication was still working, and he’d come. Gavin always came.
Then he went under again, the brilliant blue of the sky still visible above the blue-green of the Sound.
Erik never thought he’d drown. Never in a million years.
Not until right now.
Chapter Five
Gavin’s head snapped up at the sound of the lifeguard’s whistle, his training kicking in. He scanned the water and saw the dark, adult-sized head surface, bobbing, arms flailing in the rip current. Damn. Didn’t the asshole see the flags up? The signs? No swimming meant no swimming.
He raced over, meeting Morgan, the lifeguard on duty’s grim gaze as she flew down the steps. He grabbed a flotation device and streaked to the water, kicking off his shoes as he went.
As he pushed through the growing crowd, he heard someone ask, “Where’s Erik?”
Erik. Gavin’s stomach lurched and he stumbled in the damp sand. He found his footing, searching frantically for that bobbing head again. Erik. No. No, no, no way in fucking hell was Erik dying on him. Not when Gavin was finally safe.
“Erik!”
“Gav—” Erik swam harder and went under. He surfaced and sputtered salt water, choking.
Gavin’s heart hammered and everything went numb. They never got rip currents on their little beach. Never. Erik wouldn’t know what to do. Instinct would tell him to fight, to swim harder, to beat the current, just like everyone else who drowned from the panic that overtook them.
Bile climbed up his throat, the taste vile in his mouth. Erik was tired. Gavin could see it in the strokes, in how he barely kept his nose and mouth about the waterline. That’s what worried Gavin, not the going under fully but the inability for Erik to keep his head up. Gavin bolted down the beach, hoping Erik would follow him sideways instead of trying to swim against the current.
“Erik! Don’t fight it! Swim this way, along shore.”
What? Erik sputtered again, thinking Gavin was crazy. He struggled against instinct, because his brain said, “No, Gavin was that way, in front of him.” But Gavin was his friend—he wouldn’t lie. So Erik turned and swam to the side, along the beach. Surprisingly it was easier, but he was tired. So tired. The water kept pulling him back, and he wanted to go with it.
Gavin dove into the water and surfaced, taking long swipes at the waves, heading in his direction. Erik wanted him to swim faster, and he wanted him to go back, all at the same time. He loved Gavin too much to risk him.
“Gavin, no,” Erik yelled, not wanting the current to take him, too. He went under, just a little, enough for him to get a mouthful of water. So hard to stay up and above.
“Erik, just tread water. The current will stop soon.”
“I’m tired,” he hollered back. But Gavin was right—the fierce pull ceased, and the water here was actually rougher, the battering waves just as
There was no tow rope, no life vest. Heart hammering, Erik dug in and swam against the current, stroking for his life, trying not to notice the shore was farther and farther away. Fuck. He was an okay swimmer. Not a good swimmer. Not like Gavin. Thinking of Gavin made him swim harder, faster. He finally had the chance to love Gavin, and he was going to fucking die? No way in hell.
He swam for what seemed like forever, fighting, his arms becoming like heated lead in the cold water, not gaining any headway. Fear swept in on the heels of adrenaline. Maybe…maybe he wasn’t meant to have more. He choked back the panic, the steadiness of his strokes faltering with each extension of his aching arms.
Erik faltered mid-stroke and sank, sputtering a mouthful of salty water. He heaved in a deep breath, his lungs screaming for more. His mind screamed for help, but damned if his mouth could form the words. He thought Gavin’s name again, hoping their creepy band of communication was still working, and he’d come. Gavin always came.
Then he went under again, the brilliant blue of the sky still visible above the blue-green of the Sound.
Erik never thought he’d drown. Never in a million years.
Not until right now.
Chapter Five
Gavin’s head snapped up at the sound of the lifeguard’s whistle, his training kicking in. He scanned the water and saw the dark, adult-sized head surface, bobbing, arms flailing in the rip current. Damn. Didn’t the asshole see the flags up? The signs? No swimming meant no swimming.
He raced over, meeting Morgan, the lifeguard on duty’s grim gaze as she flew down the steps. He grabbed a flotation device and streaked to the water, kicking off his shoes as he went.
As he pushed through the growing crowd, he heard someone ask, “Where’s Erik?”
Erik. Gavin’s stomach lurched and he stumbled in the damp sand. He found his footing, searching frantically for that bobbing head again. Erik. No. No, no, no way in fucking hell was Erik dying on him. Not when Gavin was finally safe.
“Erik!”
“Gav—” Erik swam harder and went under. He surfaced and sputtered salt water, choking.
Gavin’s heart hammered and everything went numb. They never got rip currents on their little beach. Never. Erik wouldn’t know what to do. Instinct would tell him to fight, to swim harder, to beat the current, just like everyone else who drowned from the panic that overtook them.
Bile climbed up his throat, the taste vile in his mouth. Erik was tired. Gavin could see it in the strokes, in how he barely kept his nose and mouth about the waterline. That’s what worried Gavin, not the going under fully but the inability for Erik to keep his head up. Gavin bolted down the beach, hoping Erik would follow him sideways instead of trying to swim against the current.
“Erik! Don’t fight it! Swim this way, along shore.”
What? Erik sputtered again, thinking Gavin was crazy. He struggled against instinct, because his brain said, “No, Gavin was that way, in front of him.” But Gavin was his friend—he wouldn’t lie. So Erik turned and swam to the side, along the beach. Surprisingly it was easier, but he was tired. So tired. The water kept pulling him back, and he wanted to go with it.
Gavin dove into the water and surfaced, taking long swipes at the waves, heading in his direction. Erik wanted him to swim faster, and he wanted him to go back, all at the same time. He loved Gavin too much to risk him.
“Gavin, no,” Erik yelled, not wanting the current to take him, too. He went under, just a little, enough for him to get a mouthful of water. So hard to stay up and above.
“Erik, just tread water. The current will stop soon.”
“I’m tired,” he hollered back. But Gavin was right—the fierce pull ceased, and the water here was actually rougher, the battering waves just as
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