“No worries.” I frown down at my empty cup then place it onto the lounger as well. I could’ve used that caffeine to deal with this. “Can I help you?”
Junie turns to her friend who is clearly fighting back a laugh. She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “We’re here for Juliette’s scuba class.”
I look down at the clipboard and rub my temples with both hands—the beginnings of a migraine forming. Sure enough, Junie Crawford and Eva Fletcher are the last minute additions in Mike’s blocky script.
“Great. We’re just waiting on two others then. Why don’t you go have a—”
“Yoohoo! Is this the dive school? We’re Nick and Nancy, so pleased to meet y’all.” An older woman with a shock of white hair races over and shakes everyone’s hand. She and her husband have dive manuals tucked under their arms and impossibly wide smiles. Americans, all of them. “Nick and I have always wanted to try scuba diving. We read these cover to cover last night.”
From the look Junie and Eva share, it’s clear they haven’t done any studying at all.
“We just heard about the course last night, but we’re quick learners. I’m Eva.”
“Junie.”
They all turn to me with expectant smiles and I sigh, resigning myself to the next eight hours of chattiness. “I’m Steven. Let’s get in the water.”
Nick and Nancy cheer which makes Eva crack a smile as they charge into the pool. I tug my shirt off and prepare to join them, but a small hand on my bicep pulls me back. Her fingers are like static electricity. Her lips purse, refusing to give me even a moment’s peace.
“I thought Juliette was teaching this class,” she whispers furiously.
“Change of plans.” She’s so close, I could pick her up and launch her into the pool. The thought seems to clear some of my headache. I almost even crack a smile. “Your boyfriend won’t get mad?”
Her jaw hangs open and her eyes blaze. I smirk and march into the pool, leaving her there. The moment my head sinks under the water, my blood pressure drops. This is my therapy. This is my meditation.
The universe is testing me—Junie is everything I want in a woman, and she’s even wrapped up in a pretty little bow this morning. She obviously didn’t expect me to be teaching the class, so I know she’s not stalking me. There’s no point in getting pissed.
The quicker we get through the basics, the sooner I’d get everyone under the water where we won’t have to talk.
When I surface, the girls are whispering, but they’ve clearly decided to stay. They could be relaxing at the swim-up bar of their resort with the assholes from last night, but they’re choosing to spend the day in dive school. I guess I’d better make it worth their while.
“Welcome to the first day of the coolest experience of your life.”
We spend the morning going over the fundamentals of breathing underwater. As much as teaching newbies annoys me, well-trained divers means safer reefs, so I take my job seriously and I have high standards.
We fly through the educational bits, and I get them all fitted in wetsuits, masks, and fins. I find it easier to focus when she’s covered up.
I’ve done my best to ignore the bubbly blonde bouncing around the pool, speaking only when spoken to, but it’s harder than I expected. Though their enthusiasm grates my ears, Junie and her friend are quick learners who ask insightful questions, and they get along with Nick and Nancy “like a house on fire”. I keep having to raise my voice over the sound of their fun and I’m hoarse with the strain.
As the four of them swim laps, mercifully quiet for once, I sit on the side and watch them go. The swim test is 200m followed by ten minutes of treading water and it usually only weeds out people who can’t swim at all—but it’s tiring.
I’m enjoying the silence, the harsh sun drying my skin, but beneath my sunnies, my gaze keeps getting dragged back to those polka dots. Even if I hadn’t sworn off random hookups, students are always off limits. There is nothing between us. Therecould benothing between us. So I need to stop staring ather form. Need to restrain the intrusive thoughts of unwrapping her togs like a gift. I should’ve left them in their wetsuits.
“When your eight laps are up, you can start treading water.” I start the stopwatch in my hand.
“You’re a cruel taskmaster,” Nick groans. He isn’t the strongest swimmer, but I have no doubt he can pull it off.
“Nonsense, we’ve got this!” Junie beams. She’s hardly broken a sweat.
That’s my girl, The thought is automatic, but I recoil from it. Junie isn’t my anything.
When the ten minutes are up, it’s time for our lunch break. I tell everyone to meet me back at the pool in an hour and I try to duck through the employee door to unwind alone, but I’m not fast enough to avoid her.
“Hey, I owe you a coffee. How do you take it?” That smile probably works on everyone. Traffic cops, bill collectors, muggers—she probably melts them all into a puddle of agreeable goo. I’m only a man. I relent and follow her toward the small spread we set up for students.
“Just black.” I cross my arms over my chest, realize how tight and uncomfortable I must look, and let them hang loosely at my sides.
“Of course.” She raises her eyebrows but turns to make my drink. “Is it this stuff? Is this coffee?” she asks, holding up the jar of instant Nescafe.
