SAVANNAH
Something warm pressed against my lips.
Wait.
My mind fought through the fog, through the strange heaviness in my limbs. I couldn't breathe. My chest rose in a sharp jolt, and then I coughed.
Violent, gut-wrenching coughs. Water erupted from my mouth and nose like a floodgate breaking loose. I gasped sharply, my lungs burning as air finally filled them.
And then I realized it was Blake’s mouth that was on mine. He'd been doing CPR.
I jerked away, eyes wide and wild. I was lying on the side of the pool, soaked and trembling. My heart raced like it had just run a marathon.
Blake knelt beside me, eyes filled with something I couldn't place. Worry? Guilt? Relief? All of them?
"Savvy," he breathed, brushing my damp hair out of my face. "You're okay. You're safe."
Safe?
I coughed again, pulling my knees to my chest. The chill began to sink into my bones. My whole body shivered like a leaf in the wind. Blake stood and hurried to his gym bag, yanking out his jacket and rushing back to drape it around me.
The fabric was warm. His scent clung to it—peppermint and something earthy.
I looked up, and there was Tyler.
He was sitting a few feet away, a towel pressed to his nose. His lips were split and bleeding, one eye already beginning to swell. I gasped.
"Tyler," I whispered hoarsely.
He gave me a tight smile. "Hey, you're awake. Thank God. Shit, I was so scared, Savvy. I thought—" he broke off, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
And then the memory of what had happened hit me like a truck.
Blake and Tyler were fight. Then I remembered the water. I was drowning.
I snapped. With a cry of frustration, I turned and slapped Blake hard across the face.
A stunned silence fell over the pool.
He didn’t move. Just held his cheek where my palm had landed.
"How dare you?" I yelled, my voice cracking. "You think you can play hero now? After ignoring me, humiliating me, pushing me aside like I meant nothing—you just decide to punch Tyler? Push me? What gives you the damn right to treat people like this?"
His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but I wasn’t done.
"You don’t want me, you don’t talk to me, you flirt with every other girl who breathes in your direction, and yet the moment someone else shows me a bit of kindness, you attack them like a savage dog! Are you out of your mind?!"
Blake still didn’t say a word. He let me poke at his chest with every word I threw at him.
"You tell people to stop bullying me so you can be the only one who does it. Who the hell do you think you are? You think you're my savior now? You think this wipes the slate clean?"
Tyler stood slowly, groaning. "Savannah... it's okay. Just... let it go. I should go."
He turned, grabbing his bag, and he walked off without another word. Guilt swirled in my gut. He shouldn’t have had to go through any of this.
Anger bubbled back up. My hands were trembling again, not from the cold, but from rage.
I stood abruptly, my wet swimsuit clinging to my body as I stomped toward my bag. I yanked it open, pulled out my uniform, and started changing right there. Screw Blake. If he wanted to look, let him. I didn't care anymore. I was done.
My teeth chattered as I tried to shove my limbs into my clothes with frozen fingers. A lump built in my throat, the tears I’d been holding back threatening to spill. The world tilted, and I dropped onto the bench, burying my face in my hands.
I hated this. I hated everything. The confusion, the pain, the way he made me feel so small and then so needed. I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t breathe around him. And still, my stupid heart beat for him.
Then I felt something. It was his hand, gently lifting my foot. He was crouched in front of me, completely silent, his expression soft and unreadable as he slid my shoe onto my foot.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, blinking through the tears.
He didn’t answer. Just moved to the other foot and repeated the action. Then he stood and picked up the jacket I had discarded while changing. He turned it inside out, so the wet side wouldn’t touch me, and gently placed it over my shoulders again.
"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly I almost didn't hear him.
And I broke.
I shoved him. Punched his chest with every ounce of frustration I had.
"Don’t you dare say that to me," I sobbed. "I hate you."
He didn’t flinch.
"No, you don’t," he murmured.
"What?!"
"You don’t hate me. You just don’t know how to feel."
I laughed bitterly. "You're nothing but a cocky, arrogant bastard. I hate you. I hate you, Blake!"
I spun on my heel, ready to storm out and leave this nightmare behind me.
But he grabbed my arm, spun me back around, and crushed his lips to mine.
My heart stopped.