The smell of chlorine-treated water hit’s my nose just as I hear the sound of splashing coming from the pool. With school being out, it should be deserted, so the fact that someone else is here knocks me off guard.
When I look around checking to see who’s dared invade my me time, my eyes catch on a fine specimen of a man gliding through the Olympic-sized pool, tanned back rippling, arm muscles undulating as he cuts through the water.
Keeping a careful eye on the water god, I stand there and watch with bated breath. Finally, he comes up for air and moves over to the side of the pool. Wrapping his large hands around the metal ladder, he hoists himself out of the water.
Swim trunks cling to one of the finest asses I’ve ever seen. With his back to me, his thigh muscles ripple as he makes his way over to a bench and grabs his towel. Tossing it over his head, he starts drying his hair as he turns my way.
The sight of a marble-sculpted chest with a tribal sun tattoo on its left pec smacks me full in the face right before my eyes catch on a six-pack of abs—I tilt my head. Or is it eight?—encased between a narrow waist. A soft line of hair travels between the blatant V, along the smooth, taut skin below his belly button before disappearing into his dark blue swim trunks.
No woman in the history of the universe could ask for a better form of free hot guy porn. At least I think he’s hot; I haven’t seen his face. How many inches is the guy hiding under there? If that sinful body doesn’t come with a face to match, my world will surely come to an abrupt, disappointed end.
Still, nothing could ever prepare me for what comes next.
The towel slides away, revealing the one face I absolutely did not expect to see.
“Holy shit,” I gasp before I can stop myself, my heart practically exploding in my chest.
Rowan. Of course, it’s Rowan. Because the universe clearly hates me.
The sound of my voice has his head snapping up. Not wanting him to see it’s me, I dive under the water, kicking hard, propelling myself as far away as possible. The water burns my eyes as I force them open, desperate to navigate to the opposite end of the pool.
My lungs scream for air, but I refuse to surface until I’ve put maximum distance between us. When I finally emerge, gasping, I frantically scan the pool deck.
He’s gone.
“What the fuck?” I sputter, treading water as I catch my breath.
Did I imagine him? No, that was definitely Rowan, in all his dripping wet glory. My body responds to the memory instantly, a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with swimming the length of the pool.
Shaking it off, I dive back under, letting the water envelop me in its weighted embrace. The sudden silence is a blessed relief from the noise in my head.
My arms cut through the water, legs kicking in a steady rhythm. With each lap, I feel the tension in my muscles start to ease. This is exactly what I needed—the mindless repetition, the physical exertion—solitude.
By my tenth lap, I’m no longer thinking about Rowan’s lips on mine or the way his hands felt cupping my face. I’m not obsessing over what his movie is about or his stupid fake girlfriend proposal.
I’m just... existing.
I flip over at the wall, pushing off hard for another lap. The burn in my muscles feels good, grounding me in thephysical world rather than the emotional tornado that is Rowan Cole.
After a few more laps, I pop back up on the other end, water streaming down my face, and freeze. A pair of bare feet standing at the edge of the pool slowly comes into focus.
My gaze moves up and over a tight pair of jeans clinging to powerful thighs, traveling further to a tight blue T-shirt stretching across a ridiculous pack of abs, and finally landing on Rowan’s face. He’s staring down at me with a knowing smirk that makes my stomach flip.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he chuckles, voice low and teasing. “I saw you. Trying to hide from me, Sunshine?”
I wipe water from my eyes, determined not to let him see how much his presence affects me. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He chuckles, squatting down so we’re almost eye to eye. “You always did love swimming.”
“Are you following me?” I blurt, still treading water.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he responds, voice rough. “I’ve been here for over an hour.”
“I had no idea you’d be here.”
His eyes travel over me, lingering on the water droplets sliding down my collarbone and into my cleavage. “Sure you didn’t.”
The heat of his gaze has me wanting to escape in any way I can, so I duck back under and kick up at the surface, hoping the splash is big enough to give him a face full of water.
