The Wright Brother (20 page)

And she proved his nickname for her correct, as that smile stayed firmly in place for the first of the day.

~*~

Chastity and Luke finally found a place a week and a half later. Which was perfect, because Lori had scheduled a drop off of some of Julian’s artwork around that same time.

He’d moved out of his dorm with very little fanfare. Christian and Roman had also stopped by to help Julian move a few pieces of his furniture into her apartment.

Well…their apartment now.

Since they now shared a bed, Lori had opted to leave his bed at home, and instead she’d brought down his art easel and a few other art supplies.

At least that’s what she’d claimed.

But when the truck had rolled to a stop in front of her place, Elisa’s eyes had almost bugged out of her head. There’d been rolls of tarp, and sheets and sheets of canvas, thick pads of sketching paper, watercolor paper (she’d never known before then that there were actually different kinds of paper for the style of art used) not to mention hundreds of bottles of ink, paint, and empty canisters full of sketching pencils.

She’d had no idea just how much of an artist Julian actually was. She should have known, considering he was majoring in art. But yeah, somehow she’d never really taken it into account.

By the time they were done, Chastity’s room had been converted into an artist’s paradise. And even though it was crowded it was also cozy. Lori had bought five giant metal racks to stack everything neatly on it. They’d laid down the tarp, set up the giant easel, and in a flurry of hugs and kisses, said their goodbyes and they were gone.

Elisa turned to look at Julian, who merely signed, “No going back now.”

Turning into him, she wrapped her arms around his stomach and pressed her cheek to his chest, then tapped out a quick, “This is going to be a fun ride, Jules,” on his bicep.

“Speaking of rides,” he chuckled and then swept her up into his arms and walked them both into the bathroom. Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked him.

“Shower. We’re dirty.”

She nibbled on her lower lip and then gave him a seductive little grin. “I’m super, super dirty.”

They didn’t leave that shower for a long, long time.

~*~

She ran out of the bedroom naked as the day she was born with a wild look on her face the next Saturday. “Jules.” She stomped her foot to get his attention.

Julian was super sensitive to the vibrations of sound. He was sitting on their couch, sketching on his art pad, wearing nothing but a pair of lime-green boxers.

She’d bought him the underwear. Elisa was determined to see him in brighter colors. Even if it was only in underwear, she loved Julian’s sense of style and didn’t want him to change at all, but she also didn’t want him to be afraid to try different things.

He glanced up and even though her heart was currently clipping in her chest at a furious pace, she couldn’t help but grin. He was just so adorable.

His hair had always driven her wild. Just the way it feathered out whichever way it wanted to, she’d asked him to grow it back out again, which he was letting happen. Of course it also meant this his bed head was in that weird, funky stage as it grew out. But she didn’t care.

“Where is my bathing suit?” she asked.

He sucked his lip ring into his mouth and his eyes got a wicked glint to them as they swept up and down her very naked body. “I think you look fine.”

She clapped her hands and gave him a stern look to get him to focus. “I’m serious, Jules, I have to be at the meet in half an hour and I can’t find it anywhere.”

He frowned and jumped to his feet, suddenly aware that as much as she might want to, there was no time to flirt.

Her scholarship depended on her doing well not only in school, but in athletics too.

“Which one?” he asked a second later.

“The one for the trials today!” She tossed up her hands and ran back into their room, getting down on the floor and lifting the bed skirt. She hadn’t worn that particular suit for months, so the odds of finding it crumpled under the bed wasn’t good, but she’d literally looked everywhere. They had regulated suits they had to wear, and she hadn’t yet washed the other ones.

It was stupid, she knew, to be freaking out about one suit when she had three others she could grab. But she was superstitious that way. She had meet suits, a heat suit, and she had her trial suit.

A grunt sounded behind her.

Twisting, she huffed at him.

Julian was leaning against the frame of the door, with her blue spandex swimsuit dangling from his finger. He was also doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter at her.

His blue-green eyes twinkled.

Shoving to her feet, she snatched the bathing suit out of his hand. “Jerk,” she said, but there was no heat behind it.

Lips twitching he hauled her into his body, and gave her a kiss that left her breathless. When he pulled back, Elisa was clinging to him like a whimpering, baby kitten.

Framing her face, he touched the tip of his nose to hers and rubbed it gently as his fingers tapped out, “You’re going to do great,” on her cheek.

Lashes feathering her cheeks, she allowed herself just one more second in his strong arms before reluctantly pulling away.

“Today’s the trial for the start of the year. This is when we find out who makes the team and who gets to ride bench. I’m just…” Her wrists fluttered. “I’m nervous.”

“You’re the fastest swimmer I know. You own this.” Then he took her hands, gave them a quick kiss, and patted her bottom. “Now get dressed before I forget that we don’t have time for me to go down on you.”

With a hungry little groan, she spun on her heel, and raced to get dressed.

They made it to the pool with less than five minutes to spare.

Coach gave her a withering look. If there was one thing Coach Carl emphasized, it was timeliness being close to godliness. Cringing, because this was so not the way to start her junior year, she raced to the locker rooms.

Ava—a slim, raven-haired minnow of a swimmer with precision-like turns—glared at her as she skidded to a stop in front of the lockers. Ava was tucking all that hair into her neon blue skullcap.

Not only was Ava a good swimmer, Ava was also Elisa’s main rival. The girl had been gunning for her ever since she dumped Thomas.

She’d had no idea why until the day she caught Thomas and Ava holding hands on the quad.

“You’re late,” she spat, yanking her goggles out of the locker and slipping them over her head. “Carl’s gonna ride your ass this year, Adrian, mark my words.”

Already frazzled, Elisa shoved her pants off, tossed them into the locker, and, grabbing her goggles and black skullcap, slammed the door shut in Ava’s smirking face. “Like hell he will. I’m still the best fifty-meter swimmer he’s got.”

“You wish.” Her upper lip turned into a snarl. “I’m gonna take that spot from you this year and it’s gonna be so sweet when I do.”

They had two minutes to get out there. But Elisa had to get some things off her chest.

“It’s over, Ava. Thomas and I are over, I don’t know why you still care. But you need to drop it. Let’s just be teammates.” Elisa roughly shoved her hair into her cap.

Rolling brown doe eyes, Ava shoulder bumped her hard enough to make her stumble back into the lockers.

“I feed off adrenaline, Adrian. You don’t know it yet, but I’m about to eat you up.”

Then, sauntering off, she exited the locker room.

Feeling more than just a little sick to her stomach, Elisa headed out too.

She was the last one out. Coach Carl’s whistle was a loud, ear-splitting shrill when she walked out.

“Get your ass over here, Elisa!” He yelled.

Her face turned crimson under Ava’s hard, triumphant glare.

Elisa wouldn’t lose her scholarship if she didn’t win the trial. But it set a bad precedent to everyone else. She’d been captain of the team last year, regardless that she’d only been a sophomore, and there was no way in hell she could let anyone take that title away, especially not Ava.

There’d only be four heats. Two for the females, and two for the males.

Because this was an upperclassman trial—meaning everyone here, to include Thomas Mason who was currently standing behind his evil girlfriend and rubbing her shoulders, were experienced swimmers—they were doing a sort of face off to establish captain, co-captain, etc. for the start of the season.

Coach Carl had a very unorthodox way of training. Two swims, one short and one long, that would set the pace for the rest of the year. Elisa normally thrived on challenges, but today she was already feeling out of sorts thanks to being so late, not to mention that little
chat
with Ava back there, had done nothing to settle her nerves.

“You know the drill,” Coach Carl said to the six of them.

Three females and three guys. Her entire year depended on today. Elisa scanned the faces of the people she’d come to know fairly well in the past two years.

Sad to say, but she was friends with none of them.

At one point she’d been in, thanks to dating Thomas. But after that whole fiasco, sides had been chosen, and hers hadn’t been it.

“I hope you ate your Wheaties today, kids.” Carl’s eyes fairly glowed with the thrill of adrenaline. “‘Cause it’s on. Ladies, get to your starting positions.”

Thomas and Ava kissed and then did some sort of funny fist-bump thing before she walked over to lane one.

Elisa was right beside her on lane two. Getting to her starting position, she worked her muscles loose for a while. Swinging her arms around, rolling her neck from side to side, kicking out her legs, and smacking her quads hard so that the blood would get to pumping through them.

“On your marks!” Carl’s voice echoed through the rafters.

Elisa blew out a deep breath and got into her stance. Her muscles quivered like a taut bowstring as she waited for the “Go.”

This was her favorite part of an event. The adrenaline that pumped through her veins, making her tense and queasy all at the same time as she waited to hear the beep that would signal the start of the race.

“Get set.”

There was a black box inside of her, one that she shoved all her worries, thoughts, emotions, anything that made her lose focus on the task of winning, that’s where she went to right now.

There was no Ava.

No classes.

No bills.

Nothing.

Just her and the water.

This was a one-lap heat. Blazing, lightning quick.

No matter what Ava said, Elisa owned freestyle.

“I got this,” she whispered.

The blast of the
beep
jerked her into a frenzy of motion. Vaguely she could hear the calls and screams of teammates rooting Ava on.

And though Elisa had no voice calling out to encouragement to her, she knew her man was right there with her, cheering her on the best way he could.

Releasing a breath as she dived beneath the water, she kicked and pumped her arms in a rhythmic motion.
Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Breath. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Breath.

Over and over.

It felt like no sooner had she dived into the water than the race was over. She shot up the instant her fingers touched the wall, gasping for breath, as she waited to see who’d won.

Short distance was her race. Her time to shine.

Coach Carl jogged across to their side of the pool and leaned down with the stopwatch in his hand.

Ava and Jenna—the other girl they’d been racing against—had their goggles shoved up. The room suddenly felt unnaturally quiet, as if everyone waited with bated breath for the results.

Elisa had felt Ava’s wake pulling at her, she knew they were close, probably within half a second of one another. Races could be decided by as a little as a tenth of a second; this level of competition wasn’t for the faint of heart.

“Ava, you clocked at a twenty-five point two four. Elisa.” His smile widened. “You came in at twenty-four point eight nine. Your fastest time yet. Good job. You’ll owe me laps later for being late.”

Then he stood and snapped his fingers, ordering the guys to their starting points.

Ava smacked the water before swimming off in a huff toward the side of the pool.

Elated, Elisa got out too. She’d have to swim the four hundred meters once the guys were done, but she was relaxed—she’d won the heat that mattered. Elisa wasn’t a long distance swimmer. Not for sport anyway. There was no way she could win that, which was fine—that swim she could just relax.

Smiling broadly, she glanced over to where Julian sat. He was standing and clapping his hands for her. Too overcome with happiness to just walk away from him, she jogged to his side and pulled him down by his shirt for a swift kiss.

Coach wouldn’t like it, but she was already in trouble, so she might as well make it worth it.

He sighed into her lips as his fingers traced words across her back. “You won. I knew you would.”

“Elisa!” Coach cried and she grimaced.

“I have to go. Love you, Jules.” Then, patting his cheek, she jogged back to where Coach and Ava stood.

The raven-haired witch didn’t seem at all impressed by Elisa’s spontaneous show of affection. Ava rolled her eyes and turned aside, whispering something to Jenna.

“Now you owe me another ten minutes,” Coach Carl said. “Get your asses back to the line. Time for the four hundred.”

“Yes, Coach.” Elisa saluted him smartly, too happy to be upset by the fact that she’d be forced to stay behind an extra twenty minutes after everyone else.

As expected, Elisa took the early lead; her short, powerful burst off the starting block helped her to maintain that long lead, at least until the first turn. By the second turn she was lagging, and by the third, she was so hopelessly behind the other three that there was no chance of her catching up.

She came in a whole ten seconds behind Jenna, which, in swimmer’s time, was nothing short of pathetic.

Elisa clung to the edge of the pool, gasping for breath, chest heaving in and out as she blinked the chlorine out of her eyes. The moment she did she saw Thomas bending over to give Ava a hand up.