Page 37 of Wallflower
Chord is waist-deep in the water, surrounded by at least ten blow-up novelty pool floats. He spins to look at me, and his eyes slide up my body in a way that makes me very aware of how much skin I’m showing. His dark hair is damp, slicked back and sexy, his hard upper body drips with water, and his throat bobswith a deep swallow. I pull on my hat, drop to the edge of the pool so I can dangle my legs over the side, and try to hide.
Chord wades his way over to a giant inflatable pizza slice and pushes it in my direction. “I swim. You float. Isn’t that right?”
I chuckle as I push the pizza away with one pointed toe. It looks precarious, and the last thing I need is to look foolish trying to stay dry on a flimsy piece of plastic in the middle of Chord’s perfect pool. “Yes, that’s right, but maybe not that one.”
He guides a swan to me. “What about this guy?”
The swan has a long neck with handles and a small platform for my bottom. I give him a wry look from underneath my hat. “Do I look like a straddle-and-ride kind of girl to you?” I hear the words after I say them, and heat explodes to my hairline. “Oh, no. Don’t answer that.”
He doesn’t try to hide his amusement, shaking his head with a small smile. “I won’t,” he promises.
I could get used to this version of Chord. Relaxed. Friendly. Warm.
He makes his way around the menagerie of pool toys, offering them to me one by one. Unicorn. Dolphin. Strawberry. Pineapple. Seahorse. Donut. By the time I’ve slathered sunscreen on every inch of skin I can reach, I’ve decided on the giant peacock. It’s got a wide base made of netting, so I can feel the water on my legs and a tall spray of inflated feathers to recline against. But while I’m wondering how I’m supposed to get on it without looking goofy, Chord nods at the tube of sunscreen in my hand.
“You missed your back,” he observes.
“Oh.” I look at the tube and wonder if there’s a way to have Chord’s hands on me without having to come right out and ask for it. “It’s hard to reach.”
My heart skips as he splays his palms on the smooth travertine coping, flexes every muscle in his sexy athletic arms,and launches himself out of the pool. He sits beside me, dries his hands on one of the towels stacked nearby, and takes the sunscreen.
“Turn around,” he orders quietly.
With butterflies fluttering their way up my throat, I remove my hat, sweep my hair off my neck, and twist to offer him my back.
The moment his cool hands touch me, every inch of my body erupts in goosebumps.
I coach myself through each breath as his large, confident hands massage the lotion into my skin. His palms do most of the work, slipping over my shoulder blades and along my spine. His hands swipe low, to the waist of my bikini briefs, and wide, to brush the sides of my ribcage.
When he tucks his fingers under the strap of my bikini and sweeps them underneath, I freeze. A warm, wet pulse beats at the apex of my thighs, and when he finally pulls away, I embarrass myself with a loud, shaky breath.
I shift to face the pool but can’t bring myself to look at him. “Thank you.”
His voice is strained when he replies, “You’re welcome.”
Chord drops back into the water, submerging himself completely and swimming away under the pool floats. The pool is enormous—Olympic size with plenty of room for the toys—and while he’s under the water, I return my hat to my head and take the opportunity to arrange myself on the peacock.
Soon I’m safely ensconced on my pretty floating bird, and I sweep my hands in the water to rotate my position and look for Chord. He’s tucked into a big brown inflatable teddy bear, its arms curled around like it’s trying to hug him. He looks ridiculous and adorable at the same time, and it makes me laugh.
“Youswim,” I say. “AndIfloat. Remember?”
He raises his scarred brow as his mouth tips up. “I feel like relaxing right now. There’ll be plenty of time for laps later, and I’m not in any rush.”
I drop my eyes with a small smile. “Okay.”
I adjust my hat a little so I can watch Chord from under the wide brim. He takes a deep breath and lets it out with a satisfied sigh, then closes his eyes and turns his face to the sky. His arms dangle in the water, and he’s still for so long that I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. It makes ogling him easier, but when he suddenly speaks, I jump.
“So. Sports marketing, huh?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Sports marketing.”
“You like hockey?”
“Um.”
I wiggle my fingers in the cool water as I search for the right words, but when I take too long, he opens one eye and lifts his head.
“Youdon’tlike hockey?”
