Page 58 of Phoenix

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Grayson and I part ways in the hallway. He goes into his room and I walk over to the mine.

When I enter, the television is off, but the bathroom light is on and the room is quiet.

She’s not in here.

I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, lifting the hotel phone to my ear and dialing over to Grayson’s room. Amelia picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Case. Is Nora over there with you? She’s not in the room.”

“Hey there, Mister Hero. She went for a swim in the pool downstairs.”

I can only assume Grayson told her what happened when he was texting her on the way back.

“Thanks. We’ll see you all in the morning.”

“Hey, Case,” she says before I can hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Nora’s worried about you, after this morning. Ease her mind. She overthinks things.”

This morning?

Oh...my fucking nightmare.

“Will do.” I kill the call after that.

I don’t like talking about this shit with anyone except my therapist. Rarely do I even talk to Grayson, and he was fucking there that day.

I’ve seen Nora in the pool. She’s like a mermaid. Water is clearly her solace and her armor. I’d give anything to be able to walk my ass down there and jump into that water with her and lose myself in her body, but my mind won’t let me.

The thought of sinking below the surface makes my chest tighten and burn, and fear prickles my skin.

What kind of man would rather sit in a hotel room, alone, than face his fear and join Nora in the pool?

A man who’s a pussy.

That kind of man.

I’m showered and sitting on the bed against the headboard, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, when Nora finally comes back to the room.

She’s wrapped in a towel and I can see the ties of her bathing suit around her neck. It's bright orange. I want to see the rest of it.

“Hey.” I mute the TV and place the remote aside. “Good swim?”

She slips off her flip-flops and pulls her wild, damp hair over one shoulder. “It was a great swim, actually. You didn’t want to come join me?”

She is rifling through her suitcase, looking for something to change into.

“Nah, I’m not much of a swimmer. Not my style.” I smirk, playing off the truth as much as possible.

“I love the water. It makes me feel safe.” She pulls a few items from her suitcase then turns back to me. “How was the game?”

“Good. We won. Beer was drunk, overpriced hot dogs were had. Typical football experience.”

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