The freezing water rushed into my nose and throat, extinguishing the loud bass of the Hockey House party in an instant.
Suddenly, I wasn’t eighteen anymore. Terrifying flashes of drowning as a kid filled my head, the suffocating memory of struggling helplessly against a weightless monster. My deep-seated phobia kicked in with a vengeance. My breath became more labored under the surface, panic draining the oxygen from my lungs as my body began sinking like a stone into the dark depths of the pool.
Just as the blackness started edging into my vision, a powerful grip yanked my upper body upward.
I felt myself break the surface, gasping into the cool night air, but I couldn't seem to respond. My limbs felt heavy, paralyzed by pure terror.
"Brianna, wake up… open your eyes!"
Mikel's voice pierced through the ringing in my ears, rough and stripped of its usual lazy arrogance. I could hear him desperately calling out to me, but my body just wasn’t responding.
"Shit!" Mikel cursed loudly.
He swam with powerful, frantic strokes toward the shallow end, dragging me with him until he reached the shore of the pool. Slowly and carefully, he rested my shivering body on the hard concrete floor. Without wasting a single second, he placed two hands firmly on the center of my chest and began pumping, desperate to clear my lungs.
I jolted upward, violently coughing up a mouthful of chlorinated water, before dropping weakly back to the floor.
My vision was still swimming, but suddenly, I felt his fingers on my nose, pinching it shut. My breath hitched in my throat, knowing exactly what was coming up next. He was going to give me mouth-to-mouth.
Every panicked nerve in my body wanted to scream ‘no’. I could already feel his warm breath ghosting over my lips. I didn't know where I found the strength or the sheer willpower, but I forced my eyes open, snapped my hand up, and pressed my palm directly against his lips, effectively blocking his kiss.
We stared at each other, both panting, my hand still plastered over his mouth.
I weakly pushed myself up to sit. The moment I did, Mikel immediately grabbed a large, dry towel from nearby and wrapped it tightly around my shoulders. As he hovered over me, the raw, unfiltered worry blazing in his green eyes made my chest clench painfully.
*Don't fall for it,* I fiercely reminded myself. He was an elite player, a master of control. He was probably just pretending to care for the sake of the audience, maintaining the doting boyfriend act so nothing messed up his pristine image.
"Are you fine?" he breathed, his hands still hovering near my arms.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and offered a small nod. "Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling.
Satisfied that I was breathing, the worry in Mikel's face vanished, instantly replaced by a terrifying, dark rage. He suddenly rose to his feet and whirled around toward the crowd, his eyes locking onto a stunned Imogen.
"How dare you touch her?!" Mikel yelled, his voice echoing fiercely over the quieted party. "You could have killed her, you sick fool!"
Imogen, though momentarily startled by his fury, quickly recovered and rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms, crossing her ankles casually. "At least she didn't die," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "Stop overexaggerating, Mikel."
Seeing that cold, unapologetic smirk on her lips made my blood boil. I wanted nothing more than to watch Mikel tear her apart, but seeing how red his face was from pure anger, a sudden wave of panic hit me. If Mikel laid a hand on her, or if a violent scandal broke out at a team house, it would get back to the athletic department. He could really be benched or completely expelled from playing hockey—and his scout reports would go up in smoke, destroying the very deal we made. I had to stop him first.
Slowly, my legs shaking like jelly, I stood up, still shivering violently from the cold water. I stepped close to him and placed my small, damp hand on Mikel’s tense forearm.
Mikel snapped his head down to look at me. My breath caught, and I swallowed hard because, despite the absolute chaos of the moment, I couldn't understand why he looked so incredibly hot when he was angry. The absolute intensity in his eyes was dizzying.
"Can you take me somewhere to change?" I whispered, pulling the towel tighter around my hot pink swimsuit. "It's getting really cold."
Mikel’s rigid posture melted slightly, his eyes softening instantly as he looked at my shivering frame. Without a word, he bent down and effortlessly swept me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
My eyes widened in genuine shock at the sudden movement, but the sheer exhaustion took over. I felt myself leaning into his solid frame, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. I tried to tell myself it wasn't personal; I just desperately craved warmth, and his linen shirt was radiating heat. I offered Mikel a small, grateful smile and dunked my head into the crook of his neck as he began to walk off.
But before I could fully dwell on how safe I felt in his embrace, Mikel paused. With a swift, brutal movement of his leg, he kicked Imogen squarely in the back, sending her flying straight into the swimming pool.
A shrill, undignified scream echoed through the backyard as she hit the water with a massive splash.
A burst of laughter bubbled up in my chest. I bit my lip hard, trying to contain it, but a satisfied chuckle escaped me anyway. She entirely deserved it.
As Mikel turned back toward the house to carry me inside, my eyes casually swept over the remaining crowd—and froze.
Standing by the left side of the patio was Kenneth. He was standing completely still, but what caught my attention was that he was completely drenched, water dripping from his clothes and hair onto the concrete.
My brows furrowed in deep confusion. *Did he… did he also jump in to save me?*
I immediately shook the thought from my head. No, he wouldn't. Kenneth had made his disgust perfectly clear in the cafeteria, and he didn't care about me anymore. Not to mention, Kenneth had a well-known phobia of deep water himself; he would never risk jumping into a pool. He probably just took a clumsy shower or someone spilled a drink on him.
I tightened my grip around Mikel's neck, forcing myself to look away from my stepbrother. I really, desperately needed to get my mind off Kenneth and focus on surviving the boy currently carrying me.
