Page 34 of What Are The Odds?
“Forget pants. You won’t need them.”
I swallowed. “What?”
“I have a hangover cure.” She cocked her head. “If you’re game.”
I met her challenging gaze.
“I’m always game, Hughesy.”
*
I followed Grace’s directions, which led us to the Athlete’s Centre. There wasn’t one piece of equipment here that was going to fix my hangover. She’d ignored my recommendation to stop at Starbucks on our way.Supposedly whatever she had in mind was better than coffee. I doubted that. The fact Grace didn’t drink coffee didn’t bode well. Knowing she functioned in the morning without caffeine was almost freaky. She pulled on her beanie as she slipped from the car. Reluctantly, I followed her. Once reaching the front doors, she took out her swipe card and tapped it against the access dock. There weren’t many people here. Of course there wasn’t. It was barely seven-am on a Saturday. The hockey team wouldn’t be around because we had a game later. The football team wouldn’t be here because they played last night. And the cheerleading team would be too hungover from celebrating the football win. Grace had told me the score on the way over. Either Ryker had messaged her, or she was keeping tabs. I hated both possibilities. She stalked through the gym, knowing full well where we were headed. I didn’t bother asking. Walking behind her, my eyes fell to her ass. She’d left her vest in the car, and the tight leggings she wore gave everything away. The size. The shape. It was a perfect ass. It was starting to feel like everything about this girl was perfect.
“This way.”
She tapped her access pass against another digital lock. The smell of chlorine hit me when she threw open the door, turning my already queasy stomach.
“We’re going swimming?”
"Mmhm.” She walked to the edge of the Olympic-sized pool. “In you jump.”
I dropped my hands into the pockets of my sweats. I hadn’t actually heeded her advice to not put pants on. If she’d given me the head’s up, I could’ve worn shorts instead.
“I didn’t bring anything to swim in.”
“Swim in your jocks,” she casually said. “The swimming team isn’t training this morning and no other sporting team booked the pool for rehab. No one will sneak in and get a peak of little Holloway.”
“You were in the bed this morning, Hughesy. You know there’s nothing little about him.”
Blushing, she took a step back. Though this was super random, the idea of feeling weightless underwater was appealing.
“Are you coming in with me?” I asked before peeling off my hoodie and t-shirt in one swift movement.
It didn’t go unnoticed how her gaze flicked to my bare chest.
“Sure. I’ve just got to head to my locker and change.”
As she made a step to leave, I grabbed her wrist.
“Not a chance, Hughesy. If I’m going in in my underwear, so are you.”
She shook her head, vigorously.
“If you don’t, I won’t,” I said.
I crossed my arms over my chest. I would wait her out. Something told me she was just as eager to dive into the water. If I was this hungover, she couldn’t be feeling great either. We stared at one another. Playing chicken. I could stand here all day.
“Fine,” she groaned, reaching for the hem of her jumper. “Turn around, perv.”
With a playful roll of my eyes, I faced the opposite wall. In the empty, open space, I could hear every move she made. Kicking off her shoes. Sliding her leggings down her legs. They weren’t the best thoughts to have before taking off my own pants. At the sound of a splash, I turned back. I expected to see Grace bobbing above the water, but she was swimming beneath the surface. She glided, her body moving rhythmically as she picked up speed. In a blink, she was halfway down the pool. It didn’t seem right that someone so petite was so fast. When she resurfaced, she combed the hair from her face.
“Coming in?”
“Are you going to turn around, perv?” I jested.
Once my pants were discarded, I dove under. The water wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It was the perfect temperature. Refreshing, but not icy. Instantly the pool had the desired effect. My head felt less foggy when I came up for air. Grace swam back to me. Her long hair trailed her, covering her backside.
“How’s the head?”
