Page 63 of The Quit List
He swims a few feet to retrieve the bobbing paddle, his strong arms slicing through the water in such a way that I wonder if he might be part dolphin along with part wolf. He comes back to the kayak, and in one smooth motion, pushes himself up out of the water and swings his body lithely into the boat. For such a big guy, he moves very smoothly.
Unlike me. Because what Jax does next is reach down, grab me by the shoulders of my life jacket, and haul me out of the water like I’m the catch of the freaking day.
“Oof!” I flop-roll like a codfish into the kayak.
Into his lap, to be exact.
And if I managed to stay calm before, I am certainly not calm now.
This boat was already tiny with one of us in here. With two, it’s positively claustrophobic.
“Nice one, Holly. You did great.”
“Mmmmrh,” I mutter incoherently from my position, awkwardly flopped against him, my life jacket pressed up and almost cutting off my esophagus.
He parts his legs so I kind of slide down between them, sitting between his thick thighs with my back against his chest. Bare chest. Because obviously, he took his t-shirt off before swimming out here. Thank goodness for this life jack?—
“Now, I need you to take off your life jacket.” Jax’s deep voice cuts into my spiraling thoughts. “Unclip it and slide it off. I’ll secure it to the ropes on the back.”
“What?” I crane my head to look at him, which is also a mistake, because now, his lips are inches away from mine.
“If you’re scared of falling in again, don’t worry. I won’t let that happen.”
Wasn’t even on my mind until he said it, but okay.
“I just don’t have the space to paddle right now, so if you take it off, you can lean back against me properly and I’ll put my arms around you to paddle us back to shore,” he explains.
Holy mother of pearl. I should have taken my chances with the alligators because this feels infinitely more dangerous than a stupid sharp-toothed amphibian hunting me down.
“Okay,” I say. I can hardly argue with his impeccable logic.
My heart decides that this is the moment to start cantering in my chest. Apparently, the imminent thrill of Jax’s torso against mine is greater than plunging out of a kayak into freezing waters.
And yes, I know that this is Atlanta and the water is cool, at best, and ergo, I’m being dramatic. But I’m kind of freaking out right now.
I unclip the lifevest and hand it to Jax, who secures it, and then goes on to wrap a big arm around me. His rough hand grazes over the skin of my stomach as he pulls me flush against him, my bare back against his bare chest, with only the strap of my freaking bikini top separating us. “Just like that, good girl.”
Goosebumps break out all over me and my heart picks up speed to a gallop. I can only hope and pray that Jax thinks this is all adrenaline from my fall.
His body is hot and hard, and I feel the thud of his heart against my back as he reaches around me and picks up the paddle, effectively pinning me in place.
“Doin’ okay, Hollywood?”
I swallow thickly. “Yup.”
“I’ll have you back to shore in no time. Trust me.”
I do trust him, I realize.
The four minutes it takes for Jax to paddle us back to shore feels like an eternity of exquisite torture. His skin scorches mine, and his chest rises and falls smoothly with each breath he takes, while each breath I take feels shallow and rough, filling my senses with his smell.
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. Try to think of the most unsexy things I can. Ingrown hairs. Period cramps. Congealed bacon grease. Being trapped here with Keith right now instead of Jax.
Nothing works. So I resign myself to defeat, leaning my head back against Jax’s chest and letting out a long, shaky breath.
I almost jolt in surprise when I hear Jax’s breath hitch. Just slightly. Just for a moment.
Almost like he… might be feeling this, too?