Checkmate

32| Evening Primrose

As soon as I hit the water, my lungs fight for air. My body goes under, and it's not until I'm fully submerged that I open my eyes and see darkness. It's peaceful beneath the surface – the same kind of peace that I find in Blake's basement. It doesn't matter that it's cold or dark or I'm entirely alone: I feel safe.

I'm under for what can only be seconds but feels like minutes. Kicking my legs, I propel myself to the water's surface and take in a lungful of air. Above me is shouting, so I tilt my head back, watching as a blurry Blake is seconds from diving in after me. He suddenly spots me, his expression distorted through the water in my eyes, but if I didn't know better, I'd think he was worried.

"Get up here, Matthews," he shouts down at me.

I smile despite the fact I am freezing and swim toward the bank. Freddie floats beside me, breathless, and says, "You were under there for so long that I'd thought you drowned. Blake was about to come down here and kill me."

"I thought he was coming down here to rescue me."

Freddie smiles. "That too."

Blake greets me in record time and peels off his jacket before wrapping it around me. I'm shivering like a leaf but smiling harder than I have in a long time. When I finally push the hair from my face to look at him, he's staring at me in a way that I like.

"You," he says, "are insane."

My heart jumps when I think back to his comment about spontaneity. Jumping off the bridge isn't exactly living life on the edge, but it's something the old Rose would never have done, and that's what feels so good about it. From the way Blake looked at me, he's thinking it too.

As soon as Freddie gets to the bank, I pull on my jeans, and we walk the few blocks back to Blake's house. When the heavens decide I'm not quite cold enough, it rains. As Blake and I run the last few blocks to his house, the others break off to head to their houses.

We finally reach Blake's, and I've never been so glad to get to his basement. He opens the door, stepping aside to let me in before closing it behind us. "You're freezing," he says, looking over. "Was it worth it?"

I laugh through my chattering teeth. "Definitely."

He steps closer, flicking the light switch to his left, but nothing happens. He turns to face me, but seeing his expression in the dark is hard.

"Is there a powercut?" I ask.

"No, I haven't paid the electricity bill either." He pushes a strand of damp hair from my face as I drip all over the floor. "There are some towels in the bathroom if you want to dry off. I'd tell you to take a shower to warm up, but the water isn't working. You want a t-shirt to change into?"

I hesitate. "Okay."

He heads upstairs and returns several moments later, holding a dark gray t-shirt. "That's my favorite Led Zeppelin t-shirt," he says, handing it over. "Don't ruin it."

My heart pounds. Something about him letting me wear his favorite t-shirt gives me hope that maybe Freddie is right. I go to the bathroom to dry off before picking up his t-shirt. As soon as I slip it on, I shiver. It's warm and fresh and smells like his washing detergent; I don't ever want to take it off. I'm about to put my jeans back on, but the rain soaked them through. Hesitant, I turn to the mirror, check that his t-shirt covers my butt, and set down the jeans before heading to the basement.

I'm halfway down the stairs when I see Blake standing with his back turned to me, shirtless. He turns around, t-shirt in his hand, and catches me watching. Moonlight spills in through the curtains and reflects off his hard, tattooed torso.