Read Online Under Different Stars by Amy A. Bartol - Free Book Online
Authors: Amy A. Bartol
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ceiling in jewel patterns, making everything seem enchanted.
Nearing the edge of the water, Trey removes his shoes, shoving them in his duffle bag. Next, he reaches up, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. Sitting down on a huge rock, I ask, “Taking a swim?”
“You could say that,” Trey replies, his eyes twinkling in the glow from the water.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I breathe, casting my hand lamely toward the incandescent water, avoiding looking at Trey and his bare abdomen. I can feel heat flushing my cheeks, not at all used to being around men like Trey…or any half-naked men in general.
Glancing around, Wayra and Jax are also taking off their shirts. I avert my eyes from them, too. “You’re all going swimming?” I say rhetorically, feeling really uncomfortable now.
“I wouldn’t call what we’re about to do ‘swimming,’” Jax says, frowning. “It’s more like…” he trails off, thinking.
“Trying not to drown,” Wayra fills in the blank.
“WHAT!” I shout, my voice reverberating throughout the enormous space.
“This is the way home,” Trey says, watching me look from him to the water in front of me in complete horror.
“But, I can’t swim,” I say, paling.
“WHAT!” All three of them shout at once, making me cringe.
“Of course you can swim, Kricket,” Trey says exasperatedly. “Everyone can swim.”
Shaking my head, I croak, “I can’t—no one ever taught me—I grew up in the city,” I jump up from the rock and pace along the waterline. “I’ve been to North Beach a couple of times, but we basically just wade along the shore! You don’t actually expect me to go in there, do you?” I argue, fear entering my voice again.
“A Rafe that can’t swim. It’s unfathomable,” Wayra utters, looking completely shocked. “Those humans should be flogged—how could they not teach her to swim—it’s like robbing one of one’s soul,” he rants, grasping the back of his neck with his hand again in agitation.
“We’ll go together,” Trey says, looking at me in an assessing way. “I’ll hold you. You won’t drown.”
Jax’s eyebrows knit together. “Trey…there’s force, you cannot be expected to successfully hold her.”
“Then bind us together,” Trey replies, looking at me. “She weighs less than a hundred turks. It’ll be less than my gear.”
“He has a point, Jax,” Wayra says, seeing Jax’s skeptical face.
“It’ll work,” Trey states, loosening his belt.
I quickly turn to Jax, trying to garner his support. “This is stupid, right?” I say. “He’s an idiot to do this.”
“No, he has a point. If we tie you two together, you should be able to make it,” Jax says, shifting to the ground and rummaging through his duffle bag. “We can separate your gear, Trey. I can take some in my bag and Wayra can take the rest. Here,” he says, coming up with a pair of scissors. “I’m going to modify your clothing, Kricket.” Not hesitating, he leads me to a rock and sits me down on it. Cutting my jeans, he makes them into shorts—really short shorts. “Less drag,” he explains.
I glance at Trey; he looks like an advertisement for Calvin Klein. Wearing only dark, athletic boxers, he’s something out of a catalog or a warrior movie. Blushing deeply, I want to crawl under the rock I’m on. “Wade into the water together. We should tie you two so that you’re face-to-face with both your heads above the water,” Jax says. Trey nods, extending his hand for me to take.
Avoiding looking at him, I stand up, walking to the water’s edge on my own. Dipping my toes in the water, I pull them back sharply. “It’s freezing!” I glower at them, hearing my voice echo off the walls again.
“It is,” Trey agrees, scooping me up in his arms and wading out quickly into the water before I can object further. When he is chest deep, he says softly in my ear, “Breathe.”
Clinging to him tightly with my arms around his neck,
Nearing the edge of the water, Trey removes his shoes, shoving them in his duffle bag. Next, he reaches up, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. Sitting down on a huge rock, I ask, “Taking a swim?”
“You could say that,” Trey replies, his eyes twinkling in the glow from the water.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I breathe, casting my hand lamely toward the incandescent water, avoiding looking at Trey and his bare abdomen. I can feel heat flushing my cheeks, not at all used to being around men like Trey…or any half-naked men in general.
Glancing around, Wayra and Jax are also taking off their shirts. I avert my eyes from them, too. “You’re all going swimming?” I say rhetorically, feeling really uncomfortable now.
“I wouldn’t call what we’re about to do ‘swimming,’” Jax says, frowning. “It’s more like…” he trails off, thinking.
“Trying not to drown,” Wayra fills in the blank.
“WHAT!” I shout, my voice reverberating throughout the enormous space.
“This is the way home,” Trey says, watching me look from him to the water in front of me in complete horror.
“But, I can’t swim,” I say, paling.
“WHAT!” All three of them shout at once, making me cringe.
“Of course you can swim, Kricket,” Trey says exasperatedly. “Everyone can swim.”
Shaking my head, I croak, “I can’t—no one ever taught me—I grew up in the city,” I jump up from the rock and pace along the waterline. “I’ve been to North Beach a couple of times, but we basically just wade along the shore! You don’t actually expect me to go in there, do you?” I argue, fear entering my voice again.
“A Rafe that can’t swim. It’s unfathomable,” Wayra utters, looking completely shocked. “Those humans should be flogged—how could they not teach her to swim—it’s like robbing one of one’s soul,” he rants, grasping the back of his neck with his hand again in agitation.
“We’ll go together,” Trey says, looking at me in an assessing way. “I’ll hold you. You won’t drown.”
Jax’s eyebrows knit together. “Trey…there’s force, you cannot be expected to successfully hold her.”
“Then bind us together,” Trey replies, looking at me. “She weighs less than a hundred turks. It’ll be less than my gear.”
“He has a point, Jax,” Wayra says, seeing Jax’s skeptical face.
“It’ll work,” Trey states, loosening his belt.
I quickly turn to Jax, trying to garner his support. “This is stupid, right?” I say. “He’s an idiot to do this.”
“No, he has a point. If we tie you two together, you should be able to make it,” Jax says, shifting to the ground and rummaging through his duffle bag. “We can separate your gear, Trey. I can take some in my bag and Wayra can take the rest. Here,” he says, coming up with a pair of scissors. “I’m going to modify your clothing, Kricket.” Not hesitating, he leads me to a rock and sits me down on it. Cutting my jeans, he makes them into shorts—really short shorts. “Less drag,” he explains.
I glance at Trey; he looks like an advertisement for Calvin Klein. Wearing only dark, athletic boxers, he’s something out of a catalog or a warrior movie. Blushing deeply, I want to crawl under the rock I’m on. “Wade into the water together. We should tie you two so that you’re face-to-face with both your heads above the water,” Jax says. Trey nods, extending his hand for me to take.
Avoiding looking at him, I stand up, walking to the water’s edge on my own. Dipping my toes in the water, I pull them back sharply. “It’s freezing!” I glower at them, hearing my voice echo off the walls again.
“It is,” Trey agrees, scooping me up in his arms and wading out quickly into the water before I can object further. When he is chest deep, he says softly in my ear, “Breathe.”
Clinging to him tightly with my arms around his neck,
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