lifeguards standing by the hoist. They were
talking and looked over to see who had come in but looked away again when they
saw it was one of the club guys.
“They here all night?” Max asked.
“Rules,” Lucien said.
“Okay, so now what?”
Lucien felt worries and concerns slip away as he stretched
out, then stood poised at the deep end. “Now we see if you can swim.”
Max glanced at him. “Go,” he called and executed a perfect
dive into the water before surfacing a little way ahead with strong steady
crawl strokes.
Lucien followed him in, the weight of the water over his
head flicking a switch. His dive was better, his glide longer, his strokes more
even and controlled, and he caught Max near the other end. They reached it at
the same time, Max treading water and looking at Lucien.
Self-conscious, Lucien pushed his long dark hair off his
face. “You’re good,” he said. “A little erratic on the breathing, but we can
work on that.”
Max ducked under water and tilted his head so the water
slicked his hair as he bobbed back up. “I’m not going on your team,” he said.
“I know.” The need to put a smile on Max’s serious face had
him wanting to tease. “You’re not good enough for the team. Way too short.”
In a smooth move, Max jumped up and pressed on Lucien’s
shoulders until he was under water, then let him go so he bobbed up like a
cork. “Fucker,” he said with a snort of laughter. He laid on his back and
floated away from Lucien, and Lucien copied him, staring up at the glass and
concrete ceiling and the reflection of the water in the glass. Sometime he
could see himself reflected, lying flat and sculling with small movements of
his hands, other times he was looking at the reflection of Max. He couldn’t
help himself.
Max was gorgeous, cute, sweet, sexy, hot, and was also some
dangerous bodyguard.
Lucien didn’t stand a chance.
It didn’t get any better when the team arrived. Fifteen
students milled around and warmed up before all being called over to one point,
where the captain, Kev Milsen, was talking strategy. No one called Max on being
there at first. In fact, Lucien wasn’t even sure anyone had noticed him. Then Kev
blew that out of the water.
“New recruit, Luke?”
Lucien startled, then called on years of training in sticky
social situations. “Hey, everyone, this is Max.”
A chorus of hey s and hi s, and as quickly as
that, Max was seen, vetted, and sorted.
They worked on diving, they worked on sprinting, Kev decided
that relay was where it was at, but instead of lengths, it was intense widths
where there wasn’t much resting. Max stayed on the sideline and didn’t charm
himself into being part of the team. That was fine with Lucien at first, until
he realized Max was more of a distraction sitting on the edge of the pool than
he was hidden under the water.
At half time they took a break, and Lucien pushed himself up
and onto the side of the pool, shoving back his wet hair and grabbing his
towel.
“Hey, Luke,” one of the team called. Lucien turned. Kev and
Mickey were coming his way. He groaned internally. He had to show respect to Kev
since he was captain of the swim team, and yeah, he was a good swimmer, but he
was also an ass. And a little bit too touchy-feely for Lucien’s peace of mind. Kev
was always asking for dates with Lucien, inevitably while standing right in
front of Mickey who plainly adored Kev. Mickey appeared to roll with it, but
Lucien tried to avoid any alone time with Kev, or both Kev and Mickey together.
The two were forever trying to get him to go out with the
team, but the latest idea, an eighties-themed night at the local bar, was just
another idea of hell for Lucien.
“Hey,” he responded.
“A week Friday for the pub, yeah?” Mickey said with a smirk.
He was just as bad as Kev, always teasing and trying to get Lucien in on the
social side of the team. It was Kev who talked about team building, but Mickey
who talked about how
Learning to Kill: Stories