17. Sitting ducks

SEVENTEEN

SITTING DUCKS

HARLOW

I stomp back over to my lane before cutting a glare back at Shep. Who does he think he is? I mean, on one hand, am I really upset that he made it very clear he cares about me? No. It’s the fact that I can’t understand it. That bothers me.

I don’t want to be a pity case for him. I know he’s watched me struggle, but this feels different. In the office, it was like he saw me . Or even more unnerving, he saw right through me and all my bullshit. The last thing I need though is more gossip spreading through campus. If he talks to even one person about my bruises, I’m done for.

I get to the edge of the pool and sit down to let my feet dangle in the water while I get ready to swim. Did I also actually agree to leave with him? To get his dog? I didn’t really see him being a dog dad, but I’m intrigued. I’m sure he’s got a golden retriever or a lab. He seems like the guy to get one of those traditional frat boy breeds.

As I’m about to start my practice, something brushes up against my back. I look up to see Shep standing behind me.

“Yes?” I huff out.

He laughs before giving my ponytail a small tug. I won’t ever let him know that it tugged on my heart too.

“I just wanted to offer you some privacy to take your sweatshirt off again before you get in the pool, just so nobody else sees your bruises.” He speaks with no emotion, like this is exactly what he should be doing.

“O-okay.” I stutter out.

“Actually, do you mind if I—here, let me.” He offers his hands out and I don’t know what takes over my body, but my hands levitate to meet his. He lightly grasps the ends of my sleeves before gently pulling my sweatshirt over my head and setting it next to me.

The warmth that floods me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. I glance up and our stare lingers. He isn’t actually undressing me, but why do I feel like my soul is being bared before him somehow? I snap my gaze back to face the pool, trying to break this trance we’re held in.

But then, he squats down behind me, brushing his nose against the back of my ear. My now exposed skin erupts with chills and he snickers softly.

“Careful, Harlow, you’re letting your emotions show.” His breath tickles the side of my neck.

Before I can counter his remark, he nudges me with his knee into the pool, but thankfully the coldness of the water is the shockwave I need to jolt me out of this. As I break the surface and wipe the water off my face, Shep gives me a smirk.

I watch him walk back to his stand before grabbing my goggles and cap, getting everything in place so I can start swimming. That’s the entire reason I’m here, but am I telling him that or myself at this point?

I decide the best thing to do today is hypoxic training—a type of training we do to help us build up our endurance, focusing on trying to take as few breaths as possible. It’s not entirely beneficial towards my rehab training, however right now, it’s the perfect excuse to keep me from popping my head up above the surface and having to face Shep.

I start with freestyle and a hypoxic ladder. I do two laps breathing every three strokes, then every five strokes, then every seven strokes, then try to not breathe at all. Once I get to the laps that I need to try and not breathe, I decide to do them underwater entirely. I take a deep breath then sink under, pushing off the wall with my toes to start breaststroke. While I pull myself the distance of the lane, I focus on completing my rehab. I think about rejoining the team and not having to swim at the rec center anymore.

As the thought enters my mind, I make it to the other end of the pool and break the surface. A sinking realization hits me and has me gasping for air like I’ve just been punched. Not swimming at the rec center anymore means not seeing Shep anymore.

My chest starts to tighten and there’s a knot forming in my stomach. Why does that thought make me sad? I’m sure once I’m back with the team, Shep’s fixation with me will subside. Why does that also bother me? There’s another thought that's been trying to circulate its way through my heart, but I refuse to entertain it one bit.

I shake off this train of thought and resume my training set. When I finish, I look over and, of course, true to his word, Shep has his bag thrown over his shoulder and he’s waiting for me by the doors. Rolling my eyes, I get out of the pool and, for a second, I consider backing out of his proposition.

Do I really need to be alone with him? Do I really need to talk to him? But reality crashes back into me that he’ll talk to Pierce and that will ruin everything I’ve been working towards for the last month. As I trudge forward, I come up with my own plan. I’ll go with pool boy to get his dog, entertain his questions, tell him that I got the bruises from a stupid game, and then wash my hands of the entire situation.

“I need to rinse off and change, then I can meet you in the parking lot. I’m assuming given you seem to know everything about me, you know which car is mine. It’s unlocked so feel free to wait there. Give me five minutes.”

A small twinkle forms in his eyes. I know I’m letting him in, even just a little, and I also know that it means something to him. I don’t want to lead him on, but I also don’t think he deserves for me to continue to be a bitch to him when maybe he actually does care? This is all new and unfamiliar territory for me.

I find myself moving quickly to rinse off and get dressed. I’m sure anyone else would say this is excitement but no, that’s not… I’m not excited to spend time with Shep. That’s ridiculous.

Once I get all my stuff, I text Lennon to let her know I’ll be home late because I need to run an errand. She doesn’t reply right away, which is odd, but I’m sure she’s just studying or something.

Approaching my car, I can see in the side mirror that Shep is holding something in his hands that after a few more blinks has me running to the car and throwing open the driver’s door.

“Give me that!” I shout, snatching the soft blue piece of fabric from his hands before stuffing it into one of my bags. My breath comes out in a frustrated huff as I mentally smack myself for the oversight.

I open the door to my backseat and pop my trunk, moving anything I have back there out of the way for when we get his dog. The entire time I can feel Shep watching me, which makes my skin burn up.

Settling into my driver's seat, I ignore his presence and try to breeze past the last few minutes. Pushing my key into the ignition, Shep tries to break the silence.

“So, what?—”

“Shh!” I cut him off, pushing a finger towards his mouth but not onto his lips.

He sucks his lips into his mouth trying to stifle a laugh.

“Shep! I’m serious.”

He busts out in laughter.

“Ughhh,” I groan while sinking down into my seat, covering my face with my hands. This is mortifying.

“I’m sorry, Harlow. Hey.” He reaches out to remove one of my hands from my face and gives it a light squeeze. “I’m not laughing at you. I promise.”

I let our touch linger for a second before retracting my hand and shimmying back up, straightening out my posture.

“I thought you weren’t going to keep touching me.” I try to change the subject.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself. I don’t know why,” he admits while rubbing the nape of his neck.

Suddenly, I’m very self conscious of who could see me sitting with Shep in my car. I can’t risk another photo being taken of me. This whole idea is honestly terrible and makes me sick to my stomach; I’m consistently trying to please Beckett and now trying to keep Shep from involving Pierce.

Starting up the car without further conversation, I shift into reverse and get the hell out of the parking lot. There’s really only one way from the rec to get back towards campus so I start heading that way.

“Geez…” Shep says with a cheeky look on his face.

“What? We were sitting ducks and I figured you’d just start telling me where to go from here.”

“Gotcha. Well yeah, just follow this road to the intersection that’s by Boulder, then you can turn left going out towards the mountain trails.” He opens his phone and I catch a glimpse of his home screen. It’s him and who I assume are his parents. “Harlow!”

I jerk my car back into the right lane. “Sorry, I just saw your background and remembered you telling Coach Bradford about your dad being the Sheriff. I think I recognize him.”

“Okay, well, eyes on the road. Yeah, that’s my mom and dad.” He runs a hand through his hair and tugs on it a little.

“Should I not have brought that up?” I frown at him before looking back at the road.

“No, it’s fine. There’s just a lot weighing on me right now with graduation and my dad being the Sheriff. Everyone thinks I’m going to just follow in his footsteps, which I am in some regards. I’m a criminal justice major, but I don’t really see myself being a cop, per se.”

He pauses for a second and I think he’s asking for my permission to continue. “Go on,” I say.

“I know I want to be involved with law enforcement, I’m just not sure how yet. I’ve got ‘til December to pick some sort of field to volunteer in for my senior thesis and I’m struggling to figure that out.” He lets out a long breath.

I know I haven’t given Shep a fair chance, but I also didn’t expect him to be someone who had anything to worry about. He always seems so confident and positive. However, I should be the first person to know what it’s like to have to put on a brave face.

“I’m sorry, that does sound like a lot. This is probably a dumb question, but have you talked to your dad about it?”

“Yeah,” a soft smile graces his lips. “I met with him a few days ago. Actually, it was the day I saw you outside of Boulder with your friends .” The smile leaves his face and his jaw hardens. “Anyways, my dad gave me really sound advice. The problem is, it still left me with unanswered questions.”

“Well I’ve got a few of those myself.” I speak mainly to myself, but Shep hears.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what’s going on with me. There are things I’m still unsure of and worried about.” I can see Shep out of the corner of my eye and he’s got his face screwed up like he’s confused and uncertain.

“You can ask,” I state. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t know everything. Yeah, I know you’re injured. I know it happened at one of our parties—wish I was at it to be honest…can’t go back now though. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t know your story.”

I don’t think anyone has once made it a point to call out that I’ve never actually said what happened. It’s all just been speculation and gossip that my team started which turned into rumors that spread like wildfire across campus. “Fair enough.”

“Oh hey, don’t miss this turn,” Shep interjects.

“I wasn’t going to, but thanks.” I smirk at him before continuing. “I didn’t realize you lived so far away from campus. Not that I would have known, but this is, like, the direction of the neighborhoods and stuff.”

A funny look washes over his face. “Can you pull over up ahead actually?”

“Uh, sure. Is everything okay?” I didn’t think I did or said anything wrong, but Shep’s behavior is making me think otherwise.

“Yeah, just had a thought. Why don’t we just talk right now and then you can take me back to my truck.”

“I really don’t mind going with you to get your dog. I’m actually kind of excited to meet her. I always wanted a pet growing up but nobody was ever home enough to take care of one.”

“I appreciate that, there’s just one small detail that slipped my mind.”

“Okay? Is your dog like, bigger than my car? Or…” I’m wondering what could possibly be the problem. After all of this?

“My dog is at my parent’s house,” he blurts out.

“I’m sorry, what ?” I pull off the road into a spot by one of the many parks and hiking trails around Everson, then turn my car off.

“I didn’t even think about it. I was just so focused on talking to you that I totally forgot we’d be going to my parents’ house to get her.” Shep runs his hands down his face. “It’s fine, Harlow. You know what, don’t even worry about us talking. Just take me back to my truck. I won’t tell Pierce.”

I stare at him dumbfounded. A million thoughts are running through my mind right now. How did I end up alone in my car with Shep? What would happen if Beckett found out? I wonder what Shep thinks about Beckett? What would Shep do if he knew how I actually got my bruises?

But then one very powerful thought hits me. Would Shep’s dad be able to help me get Beckett to back off?

I shock even myself as the words leave my mouth. “It’s fine, just tell me how to get there.”

“Harlow. You don’t have to do this. You’re right, you’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with me and I shouldn’t have tried to use your injury and Pierce against you.” He hangs his head in a look of defeat.

“While some of that may be true, I also for once am making a decision for myself. So, let’s go get your dog.” I start my Bronco up again. “Where to?”