Page 40 of Space Oddities

I’msupposed to be the one drawinghimin, breaking down his reserve. Not the other way around. I thought that if I had control, I’d be less likely to get emotionally attached. Make it easier to pop the bubble after the wedding and move on.

But now my stupid heart is trying to call the shots when my head knows very well that just because he looks so hot I’d like to give his Poseidon a serving of my Venus, it doesn’t change the fact that we can’treallybe together.

“I won’t distract you, will I?” The dang man brings one leg up, stretching his quads, pushing his hips forward. He doesn’t wobble in the slightest, showing off perfect balance.

I lick the moisture off my lip, the air feeling much hotter than it did a few moments ago. “Nope. Of course not.”

He switches legs. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to not get your words in.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I manage, eyes still glued to his body. The man must have next to no body fat. I mean, I saw him with his shirt off yesterday, but this… my eyes roam over his uncovered thighs, the defined V at his waist now exposed in the low-riding swimsuit, and theveryevident package behind his Speedo. I have to close my eyes completely in order to look away.

I swear I hear him laugh, but I keep my gaze averted, staring a hole into my laptop screen.

Finally, the splash comes, followed by the sound of his arms and legs propelling him through the water. Thinking it safe, I glance back at the pool.

The sight of his exposed, wet muscles tensing and flexing as he cuts a straight path down the pool has my mouth drying. I’m suddenly very, very parched.

At the end of the pool, he flips, spinning fast under the water, pushing off the side and shooting back in the other direction, his movements more graceful than any ballerina’s.

I have no idea how long I sit there, ogling. All I know is the sun has shifted, blinding me as it hits my eyes, forcing me to look away from the pool. I could sit here the rest of my life watching him swim and be happy.

“Get it together, Patty. This isn’t long term.”

Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, or so I’ve heard. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Ian flip and push off again. His limbs stretch out as he undulates under the water like a dolphin before surfacing and beginning his freestyle stroke.

“Sweet baby Jesus.” Right now, I’m definitely not in my right mind.

Because even as I talk to myself, trying to bring forth all the logos I can possibly muster, I still stand up, walk over to the side of the pool, and dive in.

* * *

This is crazy.You’recrazy.

I repeat the words as I surface, taking a deep breath as I break the top of the water before leaning back against the wall, waiting for Ian.

His body disappears as he flips at the opposite end, and then he’s barreling toward me, his speed blinding. There’s no doubt in my mind that he could’ve won medals if he’d chosen to go to the Olympics. But selfishly, I’m glad he didn’t.

The pulse at my neck flutters faster as he gets closer, not a hint of him slowing. The power of his stroke is intimidating.

Sam Hill, what if he doesn’t see me?

Panicked, I spin around, about to lift myself out when a great rush of water hits me from behind and two strong arms bracket me in against the wall.

“Where are you going?” His breath is ragged, right against my ear.

Goosebumps break out over my body while a wave of heat has me rubbing my thighs together. “I uh, didn’t know if you saw me. I was trying to get out of the way.” Ian isn’t the only one breathless. But I can’t blame mine on swimming laps at breakneck speed.

“I saw you.” His lips touch my ear. “I see nothing but you.”

Shut up, heart. Shutup. But it’s no use. My brain, previously convinced that scratching the itch with Ian in my protective bubble was a brilliant idea, is quiet, drowned out by the loud and fast beating in my chest.

Ian turns me by the shoulders before reaching down and lifting me up. He pulls my legs on either side of his, the crotch of my bikini bottoms rubbing dead center on the front of his.

I shudder at the friction but do my best to ignore the feeling. “You left this morning.” Ihatethat I mention this.

He frowns, his eyes regretful. “I was trying not to pressure you.”

“So you gave me lady blue balls instead?”

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