Page 37 of All The Way Under
“We’re almost there,” he says. Then I swear he says, “I almost have everything I need,” under his breath, but I’m so tired I’m probably imagining it.
“The work is done for today,” he adds.
When the waterfall comes into view, my mood immediately improves. Mako takes a seat next to a tree in the distance and folds his arms behind his head before snoring. He truly is the worst guard ever, but we’ve also never given him a reason to believe we’d do anything wrong.
“Thank God it’s Mako today,” Brody says, and I notice for the first time how exhaustedhelooks.
I have a routine at the waterfall. I sit down, take off my clothes, grab my soap and toothpaste, and swim behind the waterfall to clean myself. After, I sun myself on a rock, but I won’t today because I’ve had enough damn sun.
Brody takes his turn, then joins me near the shore on an adjacent rock. We don’t do much chit-chatting while we’re here. It’s sacred.
The only time I feel normal is when I’m here. In the open air, where I can hear the tropical birds singing and the water rushing. I’m not caged or working when I’m here. I can just be.
Today, as I pull myself up on the rock behind the waterfall, strip down to my bra and panties to begin my cleaning process, Brody follows me.
He lumbers up next to me, water dripping off his skin onto the rock and my legs.
“Hey, you feeling better?” he asks, pitching his voice louder so I can hear.
“Careful, Brode,” I say, using the nickname I coined when Brody felt like too much. And it rhymed with chode, which drives him bananas. “That sounds a bit too much like caring, and you wouldn’t want to give me the wrong idea.”
I smile, looking over at him. A small smirk plays on his lips, and I hate how my stomach flips.
I close my eyes and exhale loudly. “I am now,” I reply. I look at him, placing my chin on my knees. “Are you doing okay?”
He nods, and his square jaw draws my attention. “Yeah, I’m doing okay.”
His blue eyes melt into mine. It’s another of those moments where he completely dismantles my insides with a mere look. It’s happened hundreds of times, and each time, I’m shocked he still has the ability. There’s never been anything else to compare it to in my past.
“I do care about you. You know that, right?”
I mock choke. “Did the man, myth, and legend finally cave and admit to owning some sort of emotion?”
Brody grins, and it causes an actual riot inside of me. My stomach flips, and my skin electrifies. If a feather touched me, it would be enough to send me to another dimension.
“Guess I’m more tired than I thought, then.”
He didn’t refute it. This is monumental when it comes to him and his lack of anything, except rude wit and avoidance tactics.
We’ve been close to breakthroughs when we talk about our lives back home, but he won’t ever delve too deep. I know he has a twin he has a soft spot for, a dog that lights up his entire universe, but he doesn’t talk much about his job or friends. It’s as if there’s a place in time where he won’t or can’t go past. A stamp marking a period obsolete.
“This is huge,” I say, pulling the bar of soap out of my bag and lathering it on one arm. “You’re admitting to emotionandthat you’re tired.”
I lather my other arm, neck, and chest. He watches my hand as it moves over my chest.
“I don’t think you’ve complained about being tired once yet.”
He shakes his head, watching me wash my legs and feet, dipping them in the water to get them wet. Brody clears his throat, drawing my gaze from my toes to his face.
“It’s less of me being tired, and more of me being worn out. Worn out from resisting this.” He clears his throat again, jutting his chin up at my body. “It’s ah, getting to be a lot.”
I lose my breath at the sheer honesty in his shining eyes, and the breath stays lost when it turns to something more sinister.
He stops my hand holding the soap when it’s on my thigh closest to him. I freeze at the contact. He’s touched me here and there—my shoulder, my face, my wrist—when he loses himself, but this time it feels different.
Taking the soap from me, he runs it over my leg. I startle at the touch. Not just because it’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this, because it’shim.
I don’t dare say a word for fear of him stopping. The waterfall in front of us shields us from Mako and anyone on the bank of the lagoon. It’s a private lush oasis.
