He opened the passenger door of the Defender and boosted me into the seat. “Lucy has missed you.”

I ran my hand over the dash. “Hi there, Lucy.”

“Where to?”

“Oh, I live in Enterprise.” It was a tiny town outside the gate, but it was the farthest Mama and Daddy would let me get.

“Me, too. It’s close to work.” He winked and started the car. Dropkick Murphys blared through his sound system for a few seconds before he could turn the volume down to a non-deafening level. “Sorry.” He pulled onto the road, winding us through Fort Rucker’s housing.

Memories crashed through me of summer nights, Peyton’s laugh, and sneaking out for concerts. “Don’t be. I love them.”

“Really? They don’t seem like your kind of band.”

“First, you don’t know me well enough to even guess what kind of music I like. Secondly, maybe I have a thing for Matt,” I said, naming one of the band members.

“Really?” He swung his gaze in my direction before taking it back to the road.

I laughed. “No, not really. I like them. ‘Rose Tattoo’ is my favorite.”

He shook his head with a smile, and we rode in companionable silence. I gave him directions to my townhouse, and he pulled into the drive. “I live about three blocks from here,” he said.

“In the apartments?”

“No, I share a house with Walker and Masters over there.” He pointed across the main street. He helped me down, and I didn’t shiver at his hands on my waist. Nope, not in the least bit. Liar. “So, it’s been bugging me for weeks—why can’t you swim?”

My cheeks heated, and I dropped my eyes to my pink toenails. “Because it used to scare me, and now…it’s too late, really.”

“It’s never too late to learn how to swim, Paisley.” He lifted my chin.

“What? Like I’m going to throw on some arm floaties and head on down to the pool with the neighborhood kids for lessons? Mortifying. I’d rather put out a campfire with my face.”

The smile that swept across his face was hotter than the sun-soaked pavement that threatened to burn through my sandals. “No. I’m going to teach you.”

“I have a boyfriend,” I muttered.

“So you keep saying.”

“I’m serious.”

“Then it’s a good thing sex isn’t necessary to swimming.” He winked.

“Will wouldn’t like it.” I clung to whatever reason I could.

“I’m sure Will doesn’t want you drowning, either.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” Every reason I should was countered with the main reason I shouldn’t. But I needed to learn, and he wouldn’t make fun of me.

“Look, I know it’s odd, and that you don’t know me. But I pulled you out of that water. I filled your lungs with my own breath, and if that doesn’t make me responsible for you, I’m not sure what does.” He curved the brim of his hat. Was it a nervous habit? “I can’t stomach the thought of that happening to you again, of me not being there.”

“I can only offer you friendship, Jagger.” His name tasted as dangerous in my mouth as he looked.

“Good, because that’s all I’m asking for, I swear. I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning.” He drove away before I could change my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d started down a slippery slope.

Chapter Six

Jagger

You saw her drowning. You watched it happen and did nothing about it. Well, except pay for her funeral.

Coffee in hand, I knocked on Paisley’s door. I couldn’t count how many times I’d picked a girl up at her place, and I’d never been this nervous, friend zone or not.

The door opened, and her roommate smiled at me. “Ah, Mr. California.”

“Hey, Morgan.”

Her eyes lit up, like always when girls were surprised I remembered their names. Had to love a photographic memory. She stretched her arms above her head, raising her shirt enough for me to see the tanned skin of her stomach. Then she slid her hands down the sides of her waist and smiled. I knew that look in her eyes. It was the same that led to many dropped panties in my general direction. Now usually I’d take that as an invitation and pursue, but she didn’t even stir me, even if I hadn’t sworn off women.

Fuck. Maybe my dick was broken.

“Morgan! Is that Jagger?” Paisley’s voice echoed from behind her.

“It sure is.” She moved aside, motioning me in.

I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head with one hand, holding the cup of coffee from Boldly Going marked “Paisley” in the other. “Hey there!” She walked across the hallway, flustered. “I just need a minute.”

The townhouse was immaculate, and bare. I passed the half wall that separated the living room from the entry and glanced around. Everything was beige and white, from the furniture to the carpet. There were no pictures on the walls, no real personal effects besides a few pictures framed on the end tables.

“Morgan, have you seen my—”

“On your dresser,” she answered.

“Oh, right!” Paisley bounded from the kitchen toward the stairs, passing me without a glance.

Holy shit. Those legs… Ah, there was the familiar stirring from down below. Nice to see you, buddy.

“So, swimming?” Morgan asked, hopping onto the kitchen counter opposite from where I waited.