Torrential Read Online Free PDF

eyes flutter. He makes a choking sound before he starts coughing—hard, ricocheting coughs that shake his entire frame. He rolls onto his side and vomits seawater into the sand, raking in dry gasps between retches. I put my hand on his shoulder to steady him. He doesn’t seem to notice, focusing instead on breathing in and out, his eyes shut. When he finally looks at me, his gaze is unfocused. “Why are you crying?” he mutters.
    I scrub at the water under my eyes. “I—I guess I was scared.”
    He shakes his head a little, and his eyes focus. He recognizes me. “What are you doing here?” he asks sharply, and then puts a hand to his forehead. “What happened?”
    “You—um—” My mouth is completely dry. Every single one of my muscles aches. “You were drowning, I think. You went under. I had to jump in after you.” I pray he doesn’t ask why I was watching in the first place.
    He stares at me for a moment, shock momentarily disrupting his expression. “You jumped in—after me?”
    By this point I’m blushing too hard to really talk, so I just nod, glad it’s dark enough that he can’t see me. I’m shaking all over and my hair hangs in wet, stringy clumps, my white tank top clinging to my chest in a way I’m pretty sure is not PG-rated. This is probably the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in. I never thought saving someone’s life would make me this uncomfortable.
    But I watch him take another breath and I’m just so incredibly glad that he’s alive, that I’m not cry ing over a corpse on the beach, that the embarrassment floods out of me. “Sebastian, I’m really happy you’re okay.”
    He narrows his eyes at me with something like suspicion, although I can’t fathom why. Oh—maybe he’s not okay. “You are okay, right?” I lean in anxiously. “ You’re breathing all right? How many fingers am I holding up?”
    “None,” he says, and I realize that he’s right, that I forgot to hold up any fingers at all. I really need to sleep.
    But first I have to make sure he’s taken care of. “Can you walk? I kind of got my phone wet, but if we can get back to campus I can borrow my friend’s phone and we can call an ambulance—you should probably get checked out…”
    I trail off, because he’s struggling upright, panting hard as he gets up. Again I’m struck by how stunningly gorgeous he is, the way his muscles shift with every move. His hair is in his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to brush it away.
    He takes one step and collapses in the sand with a grunt.
    “Sebastian! Are you okay?” I grab his shoulder, maybe a little over-zealously, because he shakes me off immediately. “Look, let me run back to campus and I can call an ambulance. They’ll bring a stretcher.”
    I get up, ready to sprint even though my leg muscles groan, but he seizes my wrist. His head is tipped downward so his hair conceals his eyes, but I hear the ragged tone in his voice as he says, “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”
    He sounds like he’s never said “please” in his life. Suddenly I recognize that imperceptible shift in his voice. He’s just as embarrassed as me. I kneel beside him, making a vow to be as little of an idiot as possible. Gently, I say, “Why can’t you stand?”
    He clears his throat. His voice is still raspy from the saltwater. “Leg. And arm. Muscle cramps.”
    “Better than a shark,” I say cheerfully. He doesn’t ask. “And it’s no wonder, if you go swimming this late without stretching, after swimming all day. Which leg?”
    He hesitates, then jerks his chin at his left leg, which is stretched on the sand. I’m not sure if he’ll let me do this, but I obviously can’t carry him back to campus, and if he won’t let me get anyone…I brush my fingers over his skin to see if he shoves me away. He doesn’t. “Here?” I say quietly, my hand hovering over his upper thigh.
    He nods once.
    I begin massaging his thigh, pressing my thumb in small circles. The muscles