Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
He looks warm.
I shudder against the wind, forcing my feet to remain glued on the bridge over the river rather than carrying me over to him, seeking his warmth. Despite the freezing temperatures, the river rushes by beneath us. Cal, the fucking idiot, shoots off several roman candles, not mindful of everyone around him.
One of the drunk guys named Tim, who almost took a firework to the face, pushes Cal. He and Cal get into a shoving match until Terrence tackles him against the railing. The wood snaps off with the weight of their bodies. Both Cal and Tim land on the snowy wooden floor of the bridge, but don’t fall off. I start toward Terrence as he grips the handle tight, but more parts of the bridge railing snap. He nearly goes over into the icy waters when Hollis flies out of nowhere, grabbing his coat before it’s too late. I freeze, shocked that he got him in time.
No way.
My heart hammers in my chest as Terrence shakes Hollis off him and storms away from the edge. Tim stumbles away as Cal rises to his feet. Jordy and I approach Hollis.
Hollis’s gaze finds mine, seeking approval. Fuck if I don’t want to give it to him. He just saved my friend. He deserves something. A smile of thanks tugs at my lips. One his eyes drop down to admire. I lick my cold lips, loving the heat that races straight to my dick when his eyes widen.
I start forward, unsure what I want to do. Maybe I’ll tell him thank you. Maybe I’ll just hug him. My mind drifts to the fire station. How he ran his fingers through my hair. What if I pressed my cold lips to his? My dick is halfway to hard.
We’re so focused on each other that we don’t notice Jordy.
Swift. Angry. A storm.
“This is for Roux,” Jordy snarls.
I watch, horrified, as my best friend shoves Hollis off the bridge. The collective gasp from the group nearly rumbles the earth. I catch Hollis’s eyes before he falls over.
Not afraid.
Fucking terrified.
It haunts me to my goddamn soul.
I charge over to the edge seconds too late. I heard the splash but didn’t see it.
“What did you do?” I yell to Jordy. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Holy shit,” Cal gasp.
“I, uh,” Jordy stammers.
We all stare at the icy, churning waters, waiting for Hollis to come back up.
A hand.
One desperate grab for the surface, but an utter failure. It reminds me of when Roux fell in the public pool one summer when we were younger. Thrashed wildly before she sunk to the bottom and had to be fished out by a lifeguard.
Oh my fucking God.
“He can’t swim.”
My words barely leave my mouth before I dive off the bridge, dreading every second before my body hits the cold-ass water.
Icy hell.
That’s the only way to describe the way it feels the moment I become fully submerged in the river. My muscles all scream in agony at once, my bones stiffen in protest. It’s my lungs, though, that feel as though they’ll collapse in on themselves. I burst to the surface, searching for where he might have gone.
“There!” Cal bellows, pointing to something splashing nearby.
I swim blindly toward it, my body seizing from the cold. Fifteen feet away maybe. Swim faster, goddammit. I throw every ounce of power I have into swimming his way. The current is carrying us at a steady rate. If I don’t catch up to him soon, the waters will quicken and then dump us into the Columbia River. We may as well be dead then. The currents are much too strong in that river.
My fingers, stiff and aching, make purchase. A coat. I grab for it, but pull too hard. The coat yanks off into my arms. I sink under the water with the weight of it until I release it. Under the icy surface, I see a pale limb. Swimming hard, ignoring all my pains, I snatch the cold arm. I manage to get my arms around him and kick to the surface.
“Hollis,” I croak, my voice hoarse from the exertion and cold. “Hollis!”
No response.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Think, Roan.
I start for the shore, my mind reeling. He needs CPR. I remember the basics from what we learned in eighth grade gym class. It’ll have to do. My feet hit gravel and I drag us onto the banks. People can be heard hollering a distance back. I’m not worried about them. Just him.
Hot tears burn down my cheeks as I try to focus on reviving him. Fuck. I need to revive him. I don’t know that he’s breathing. My mind goes into autopilot, remembering Mr. Lancaster’s lessons. Pinch the nose. Tilt the head back. Breathe. Chest compressions. If he pukes, turn his head to the side.
Though my heart is frantic inside my chest, I focus on helping him. Remembering every lesson learned. I repeat my actions until he chokes.