I watched him climb down the ladder into the water, tensing up just a little against the cooler temperature. This end of the pool wasn’t even deep, and he was able to stand up with the water lapping at the sharp edges of his pectorals. He waded towards me, and after taking a deep breath, I forced myself to take a step closer to the edge.
“You can do this, Juke. One easy step at a time.”
I nodded, gulping dryly as I stared down at the water rippling around him, and then I lowered myself to the edge, and put my legs over the side. Dante kept his eyes glued to mine the whole time, and I took strength from his gaze. As the pool swallowed my feet, I had a moment of panic, but keeping my eyes locked with his I overcame it.
“OK?”
“OK,” I said. “I’m OK. This isn’t so bad.”
“No, it’s not. Take my hands.” He held out his hands, palms up, and I hesitantly placed mine on top, and felt his fingers curl around to grip mine. He smiled, and I forced myself to smile back. “Do you want to join me?”
My first reaction was to shake my head, a sudden bolt of pain through my knee making me shift, but I knew it wasn’t real. “No. No, I can’t—”
“OK, no pressure. I would hold onto you, Juke. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen.”
“I know, it’s just... Ugh, I feel stupid, I just can’t help it.”
“It’s not stupid. Anyone can develop a fear of something. Small steps are the way back into it. If you can’t do more than sit on the side today, that’s fine. Tomorrow, maybe you’ll be able to get in.”
I nodded, not letting go of his hands, not averting my eyes from his, and somewhere deep inside something clicked. I don’t know what it was, I don’t know where the fear went, but in that moment I knew that Dante wouldn’t let anything hurt me. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I wanted that. I wanted to just trust him. And somehow, I managed to squeak out: “I’m coming in.”
Dante looked puzzled, but there was a grin on his lips. “You don’t have to. No pressure.”
“No, I want to.” I said, letting go of his hands and gripping the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it up over my head. “You’ll stay close to me, right?” I asked as I stood, concentrating on my breathing the way my psychiatrist had taught me.
Dante nodded. “I’ll hold onto you, Juke. I won’t let you go. You’ll be totally safe.”
Stripping off my shorts made my stomach suddenly clench with the realisation that I was practically naked in front of him. Which was odd, since it wasn’t like this was an unusual situation for me – I’d worn less in front of coaches before. I’d been around other men, some of whom I found attractive, with us all dressed in nothing but tight trunks and swimming briefs on more occasions than I could count. But here, now, things felt different. Dante’s eyes were on mine, but I knew that there was nothing but a thin layer of Lycra covering me. If he chose to, he could easily glance down and...
He’s not interested, I reminded myself, and felt dirty for even having such thoughts.
“Coming in?” he asked, and I nodded as I climbed carefully into the water, taking his hands again as I slipped in beside him. “Nice one, I knew you could do it!”
“Thanks to you,” I said.
Dante laughed. “Hardly. This is all down to you, Jukie,” he said with a mocking grin, and I coughed out a chuckle in response, helping to break the tension.
Holding onto his hands, I moved away from the side of the pool, pushing myself now that I’d begun. The pool got deep further in, but this end was shallow enough that there was no chance of being in danger, and I started to relax. There was nothing to fear here. It was the place I had always felt safe, always felt in control. And finally, I was starting to believe I might get that back.
“Want to try without me holding you?” he asked, and my heart flipped over inside my chest.
Could I? At some point I’d have to, but right now? It felt like going from crawling to running in one day, but... “Yes,” I said, nodding. “Let go.”
“OK, on three. One, two, three.”
Dante released me and adrenalin shot through me to my core. In my mind’s eye, I saw myself slipping under the water. Panic gripped me, my knee cramped and I started to flail. Me, the famous swimmer, splashing at the water like it was my first time in the pool. I struggled to draw breath, gasping as I searched for Dante, and then—
“I’ve got you.” His hands were under my arms, lifting me up out of the water. “I’ve got you, Juke, don’t panic.” His body pressed against my own as he held me, pulling me to the edge and placing my hand firmly onto the side of the pool. “You’re OK. Look at me, you’re OK.”
I met his eyes, embarrassed, turned on by his proximity, elated by the adrenalin rush. I was vaguely aware of my own voice, thanking him more than was needed for saving me, for pulling me from the water. I could feel my body tingling with need for him, with the urge to flee, with the fear of drowning.
And then the most unexpected thing happened. His face was drawing nearer – or was I getting closer to him? - and his full lips were parting, his breathing quickening to match my own, his eyes locked to mine. The curve of his neck was fascinating to me as I watched his head tilt just a little to the left, the way his broad shoulder jutted as his fingers trailed up my spine, pulling me in. I could feel my cock engorging under the water, the anticipation of the kiss building a primal need within me.
“Henderson! Where the fuck are you? Are you there?”
Dante pulled back at the sound of Ronald’s voice, but didn’t let go of me. His face went instantly red, and I searched for something to say in that moment. Should I apologise? Pretend nothing had happened? What was the right etiquette?
“Henderson, I know you’re there, your car’s out front along with that piece of shit Volvo. You need to clean up your bin, it’s fallen over again.”
I huffed out a breath, turned away from Dante and pulled myself up onto the side of the pool, hoping my semi-erection wasn’t too visible to him as I turned away. Dripping with water, I walked around the edge until I could look up at Ronald’s balcony, made sure he was looking my way, and silently flipped him the finger as I walked back inside the house.
Chapter 3
Over the next few days, I did as Dante instructed, and gradually became more comfortable back in the water. At first, he continued to come in with me, but kept a distance between us as I regained my confidence, then he stayed on the side and I swam on my own. Before long, I was ignoring the depth of the water and simply swimming the way I would have in the past, with no panic at all and no phantom pain either.
Dante had me doing more and more lengths of the pool in less and less time, building stamina with runs on the beach and strength by adding a few weights to our workout routine. He ordered me to relax every evening once we were done, to let my muscles recuperate ready for the next day, and told me to change my hot showers for cold ones to help with my recovery – which I began to look forward to throughout all the day’s training.
There was something about standing under the freezing water, when my muscles were burning from their workout, that set every nerve ablaze and made me think, unwaveringly, of the things I wanted him to do to me.
The post-workout shower became a place where I could indulge my private fantasies, as I imagined him joining me, surprising me perhaps by returning to the house after he’d left and finding me there, naked. The thought of him walking in on me and not immediately fleeing would always bring my mind back to that moment in the pool, before Ronald interrupted us. If he hadn’t, what would have happened? Did I just completely imagine it? Was it just an adrenaline hit sending my senses into overdrive and giving the impression that he was drawing nearer? What did I really even know when it came to his feelings about me? The one sure thing I did know was that he had been married and had never been linked in any way with other men. That hardly suggested that he was about to kiss me. What it suggested was that I needed to find a release for my own needs.
By
the time we’d been working together for five days, I was becoming so obsessed that I could barely look at Dante without thinking about what had happened. I had to force myself not to glance down at the shape of his body, outlined by a vest top, or the way his abs led my gaze down to the waisband of his tracksuit bottoms.
As I finished my beach run on that fifth day, with the sun beating down from high above, he headed over the sand to greet me with a big grin, holding out the stopwatch. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat that had begun to plaster his top to his skin, darkened patches sticking as he moved, pulled taut over his magnificent chest. The lines around his eyes reminded me that he was an older guy, but his body would have looked good on a man half his age. I wondered, for a moment, when he worked out. Did he have a home gym, or a gym membership? Perhaps both? Did he immediately work on his own fitness as soon as he’d left me or was it later in the day?
“Two whole seconds faster than yesterday. That’s damned impressive. I’m proud of you, Jukie.”
I glanced his way, leaning hard on my thighs as I tried to catch my breath. “You’re not going to stop calling me that, are you?” I laughed. “Give me what I need.”
I reached out and took the bottle from his hand, straightening up as I took a long drink of the radioactive goo. He still hadn’t told me what was in it, but right now I didn’t care. I needed fluids to replace those I’d lost.
“How are you feeling?” He knelt in front of me, grabbed my thigh unceremoniously and started flexing my leg at the hip. The day before, I had complained that I’d pulled it when a dip in the sand sent me sideways, and I appreciated his concern, but I also couldn’t help where my mind went with his hands all over my pelvis like that.
“Exhausted,” I replied, concentrating on my breathing and trying to clear the images from my head. “But my leg feels good.”
“No twinges?”
”Nothing. I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about.”
Dante shrugged. “Possibly. Could be lactic acid. Whatever, it’s good that you’re not feeling it any more. And that run was fast. Might be able to shave off a millisecond or two in the water if you’re able to hold that kind of stamina. Good work.”
“Good work yourself, boss man,” I said. After all, it was Dante who had managed to get me back to form and get me back in the pool. The fear had all but vanished, and I had him to thank for it, which I wouldn’t forget. “Same time tomorrow?”
He nodded and we started walking back towards the house, going in through my private gate and securing the padlock behind.
“A little time in the sun this afternoon won’t hurt,” he said. “You can’t just play video games all day.”
“Yeah, but I need to maintain my position in the league...” I laughed at his expression. “Yes sir, Mr Dante sir.”
He chuckled. “Well, while I’m in boss mode, we need to talk about your diet again. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the microwave meal boxes and cans of soft drinks. That stuff will kill you, but more importantly it will make you slow. You need to eat proper food, Juke, I’m not kidding here.”
There was a moment of silence as we walked, and I considered lying to him. After all, I’d never really worried about my diet before and I’d been competing at the highest level. For a few days before a competition I’d go out and eat less oily food, but that was it. Since my disastrous attempt to cook the first night after Dante told me to, I’d been working on my skills, but things weren’t going fast. My mum was trying to help me, giving me simple recipes, but the microwave meals were a good stop-gap.
But as I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, I knew that there was no way I could avoid the truth. I shivered at the thought of ever lying to him. It just simply wasn’t in my nature any more. “Look, the truth is, I don’t really know how to cook,” I said.
He laughed, turning towards me, then his face fell. “Oh, God. You’re serious, aren’t you? Why didn’t you tell me that? If I embarrassed you, it wasn’t intentional, I promise.”
I nodded. “It’s not that I wasn’t ever taught or anything, I just didn’t listen. We ate well when I was growing up, and my mum did try to get me interested, but I guess I just never paid attention. Then when I started competing professionally I was only seventeen. I was spending time away from home more often than not, and because I was on a team we had our meals provided for us. I was living totally alone and feeding myself by the time I was nineteen and I just never really knew what to do, so I fell into a bad pattern. Takeaways became my normal. It sounds like an excuse, but that’s about as honest as I’ve ever been.”
Dante shook his head as we walked past the pool. “It’s fine, I get it, and I don’t blame you, but it does need to change. You have a decent kitchen here, so you can learn a few basics pretty quick, and I appreciate that you’re obviously trying with the microwave meals at least. But I want you eating properly right away. Tonight you’re coming to my place for dinner – and it’s going to include vegetables.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m getting there with a little help.”
Dante reached out and grabbed my shoulder, stopping me from walking as he met my eyes. “I know I don’t have to. But I want to.” There was a tenderness in what he’d said, a slight shift from swimming coach to friend. Or was that just wishful thinking? I still wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had happened between us, or what to make of Nick Dante himself. I didn’t know enough about him to form a judgement. But this was just dinner, right? Like he said, he wanted to make sure I was eating properly. That had to be all it was, didn’t it? “So, see you tomorrow?”
“What will we be eating?”
“I’m not sure yet. Let me surprise you. I promise you’ll enjoy it, just leave it with me. Are you vegetarian or anything? Any allergies?”
I shook my head. “No, whatever you make is fine. You wouldn’t prefer me to pay for us to go to a restaurant?”
Dante grinned. “No, you’re not getting out of it that easily. We go to a restaurant, you can order whatever you like and I can’t stop you. We eat at mine, you’ll take whatever I give you.”
My heart thundered. It wasn’t so much what he’d said, as what he hadn’t said. There was no objection to going out for a meal together per se. He just had reasons why this had to be at his place. Was it a date? I couldn’t ask. I couldn’t find the words. It wasn’t a date though, was it? It couldn’t be. “OK,” I said, nodding. “See you then.”
“Seven work for you?”
“I’ll be there.”
AT TWENTY-TWO MINUTES past six, I was pressing the buzzer for Dante’s apartment on the other side of town, with a bottle of white wine in my hand. The sun was still bright, though it was lowering in the sky and the heat of the day had evaporated, leaving a nice warm breeze and that kind of lazy summer evening when English people sit outside, laughing and telling anecdotes from their past. It was something I missed from my childhood – my mother had been from a big family and I remembered fish and chip suppers by outdoor fires while us kids ran around and caused havoc.
“Hello?” Dante’s tinny voice came through the intercom.
“It’s me, Juke. Sorry. I’m a bit early.”
“Oh... No, that’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting you just yet. Come on up.”
A moment later the door buzzed and I pushed inside, heading up the stairs.
Dante’s flat was on the fourth floor, and if I hadn’t already known which one was his, all I would have had to do was follow my nose. The smell of cooking spilled out onto the landing, making my stomach groan with anticipation. I didn’t have a sophisticated enough palate to discern exactly what was in it, but the mixture of herbs, chicken, pasta and mushrooms drove me crazy. How long had it been since I had a proper meal like that? Too long. It reminded me that I hadn’t been home in months, and hadn’t stayed over for even longer. I needed to make time to go see my mum, my stepdad and my sister as soon as I could.
�
�That smells amazing,” I said as I stepped inside, then added. “I think I’m underdressed...”
Dante grinned. “You’re fine as you are,” he said, but it was clear that I should have made more of an effort.
He was in a suit and white shirt, with black shoes polished so well I could literally see my face reflected in them when I looked down. Thankfully, he hadn’t bothered with a tie, or I really would have felt that this was a more formal evening, and he’d left his top two buttons undone, somehow pulling off a more casual look. Well, that and the fact that he’d added a yellow apron with little white flowers dotted here and there.
“Are you sure you don’t have some sort of dress code I should adhere to?”
He laughed. “Seriously, you look good. For me, it’s either suits or sweats. I don’t have anything in between. And I don’t think you want to see me in my workout gear for dinner, right?”
I looked down at my jeans and black t-shirt. Sure, they were Calvin Klein jeans, and it might have been an Armani shirt, but still. “Hmmm,” I said, not sure that I believed him completely, but nevertheless it did put me more at my ease.
As he finished cooking – insisting that he was fine and didn’t need any help on this one – I took a curious look around his front room. I’d say it was mostly minimalist. There were two brown leather sofas, one that looked far more worn than the other; a smallish TV in the corner; an old fashioned looking CD player and a few CDs neatly stacked on a shelf above it. There was also a shelf of DVDs, which appeared to be mostly old films I’d never heard of.
“I did not have you down as a country music fan, Dante.”
I heard him laugh from the kitchen. “What other types of music are there?”
I shook my head, muttering, “You think you know a guy.”
After looking through, I picked out one by Johnny Cash, because I’d heard of him, and put it in the CD player. As the music started to play low through the speakers, I headed through to the kitchen. It wasn’t huge, but it was clearly well equipped. Unlike the front room, I was surprised to find it much more of a jumble, with clean plates stacked on the counter rather than put away in a cupboard, and the handles half hanging off some of the drawers.
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