“Doe!”
“Coming!”
Chapter 26
Miriam
When Antonio suggested swimming, I imagined an indoor pool with those lounge chairs and annoying straps that swallow your foot when you get up.
Maybe some Venetian marble.
Definitely the stench of chlorine.
Indoorbeing the key word.
At no point did outside come into the equation. Who in their right mind wants to bounce around half naked in February? Though sixty degrees does feel like Panama after fleeing Buffalo’s mere twelve. Anything warmer than frostbite would, but I still wasn’t convinced to parade around in a swimsuit like I was onBaywatch.
Yet here I am. Still waking up after our night out, with a one-piece and a robe under my puffer coat.
I’m a complete fool waddling up to the biggest swimming complex in America. I don’t know if it really is the biggest, but there are eight heated pools, and they lured every rugby player on the Steel who received an invite to the pool party we’rehosting.Wearen’t hosting a thing, but the digital invitation floating around says otherwise.
It took pouting and whining on Antonio’s part for me to leave our suite. I caved, because new experiences and all of that.
The bass from Wreckx-n-Effect’s “Rump Shaker” spills across open pools that face a drive-in-theater-size screen. Daybeds and poolside couches hold forgotten towels and flip-flops as players throw it back and gyrate like it’sMTVSpring Break. Their ringleader joins a circle of Bobby Brown thrusts. He pumps his hips before hitting the worm to wild cheers.
Antonio is in his element. An Energizer Bunny with no off switch, bouncing from guest to guest with the same enthusiasm. He rented a suite big enough for his teammates. It has a lounge area encased in glass walls that open up to a private pool. The indoor cabana is a heated escape with a bar, bathroom, and extra seating.
To my credit, I haven’t hidden in there once this afternoon. The views are immaculate, and I don’t mean the surrounding Vegas backdrop of commercialism and the occasional palm tree.
Muscles are on display. A fine assortment of hard, sturdy legs and veiny arms. Swimming trunks never made me wet until rugby thighs became part of the equation.
I got caught staring at the chest Antonio’s teasing underneath an unbuttoned tropical shirt. How could I not? It’s smooth, with a solid wall of thick muscles to match the tree trunks he calls legs. On his swimming trunks are tiny cacti-shaped penises.
A lifeguard in a high-waisted swimsuit blows the whistle at Bread’s attempt to cannonball into the pool. It’s four feet deep and his second warning. Judging by his smirk, it won’t be his last.
He adjusts his banana trunks as he makes his way over to her. She giggles when he whispers something in her ear, the whistle once dangling from her lips now between her teeth.
In case I didn’t mention it, today’s forecast is clear skies with biceps and quads.
“This next song goes out to the other cohost of the party,” the DJ says over a record scratch.
No.
Between the Steel and the other hotel guests on the lower levels, there’s enough people here to activate my emergency sprint. I was fine imitating a potted plant, going unnoticed aside from the occasional hug and hello from Antonio’s teammates. Every eye wasn’t on me then like they are now.
“Maid Miriam, I believe he called you,” Quincy says with a grin. “Your coat.”
Fine with me. I came prepared.
I shrug out of my winter shell to his laughter. My hands tighten around the belt on my robe. I slip my glasses on and slowly back away.
“Where you going?” Bread and his inflated muscles appear before me. “She’s ducking you, Cap!”
“Quiet!” I hiss. “I thought we were friends.”
Winston Fluke smiles. “We are, but I’ve known him longer.”
“Traitor,” I mumble.
