Undressed Page 7

  Then she handed me a key to a locker and told me to meet my instructor in the pool at three sharp.

  The locker room was nothing like the ones we’d had in gym class at my high school. Everything about this place was ultra-fancy, and only made the butterflies worse.

  I slammed the beechwood locker closed and followed the signs to the outdoor pool deck, which was just beyond the ladies’ locker room.

  I stopped short when I saw that the pool was already swarming with little kids and I wondered if I was in the wrong place, or if I’d been confused about where I was supposed to meet my instructor.

  I glanced around uncertainly for someone who could help me, but all I saw were parents huddled together on metal bleachers on the other side of the pool. I doubted they had the answers I was looking for.

  Cutting back through the locker room, I went to the front desk.

  “I think there’s some sort of mistake,” I told the girl, who looked annoyed when she was forced to tear her eyes away from her iPhone. “I’m supposed to be taking a swim lesson, but there are a bunch of kids in there.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “What? In the Beginning Swim class?” Then she looked back down at her phone, already losing interest in my dilemma. “You should be out there too. Class starts in T minus sixty seconds.”

  “I . . . um . . . Beginning Swim . . . ?” Crap. The kids. The lesson. “Is . . . is Beginning Swim a kids’ class?”

  The girl stopped just short of rolling her eyes, but the eye-roll was implied in her tone. “Technically, it’s an all-ages class. For beginners.” She enunciated beginners like I was slow.

  All ages. It was all ages. Me and a bunch of children.

  I could leave. Walk away now and forget all about this swimming nonsense. Give up and admit defeat.

  The girl behind the counter read my mind. “Do you want a refund?”

  I totally did.

  But . . . double crap.

  I also didn’t.

  She’d said that other thing too—that part about the lesson being for beginners—and I was as beginner as they came.

  Who cared if I would be the oldest kid in the pool? No one outside of this place would ever have to know. Just me and those kids and their helicopter parents. Odds were, I’d never run into any of them ever again, right?

  I didn’t answer the girl about the refund because, to be perfectly honest, she didn’t deserve an answer. I couldn’t give up now.

  I was New Lauren. California Lauren, and I could do this.

  I spun on my heel and marched right back out to the pool deck.

  And that’s where I saw Will. Standing near the edge of the pool, looking for all the world like he owned the place.

  Apparently this was New Will I was witnessing, because this was so not the Will I’d met that first night at The Dunes who licked tequila from my navel. Or even the same Will who’d been on the beach last night, when he’d caught his girlfriend cuddled up with another guy.

  This Will was trying to coax one particularly terrified little girl off the top step.

  “Gracie,” he was saying in a voice I would never, not in a million years, have expected to come out of his mouth as he stretched his hand toward her. “How ’bout we make a deal, you and me? You only have to try this one lesson, and if you still hate the water, you don’t ever have to come back here again.” It wasn’t hard to guess which mom belonged to the little girl, because there was only one who was standing over the little girl’s shoulder, biting her lip so raw it looked like it might bleed any second.

  But Will didn’t look nervous at all. His patience seemed endless, as he concentrated solely on the little girl in front of him.

  The girl frowned, her lips puckering as she considered his proposal. “Pinkie swear?” she finally asked, not looking the least bit convinced.

  Will eased closer to her, raising his hand out of the water and lifting his pinkie toward her. “Pinkie swear,” he told Gracie as if they were the only two people in the entire pool club.

  She reached out and wrapped her tiny finger around his, and when the deal was sealed, her narrow shoulders visibly relaxed. This time, when Will held his hand out for her, she let him lead her down to the second step, and then the third, where she bounced up and down anxiously, waiting for the lesson to start.

  There was still time to change my mind; Will still hadn’t noticed me yet. Maybe New Lauren was okay with chickening out.

  Then Will glanced up.

  Confusion scrolled over his face, and even before I had the chance to register anything else, he’d lifted Gracie back to the top step. “Wait here a sec, will ya?”

  And he was coming out of the pool. Right toward me, water dripping off of him.

  Ho-ly. Hell.

  How many six-packs could one set of abs have?

  I told myself to look away. For my own good. Looking at him was like looking at the sun, too much intensity in one white-hot package. Wasn’t this exactly how people went blind?

  But unlike at the Sand and Slam, this was broad daylight and there was no more guessing what he’d been concealing under those tight T-shirts of his. I could make out ever sinew and every muscle of Will’s chest.

  He cocked his head at me as he shook the water from his bronzed skin. “Hey, Brown Eyes!” My cheeks flushed all degrees of hot when I realized I was just standing there, gaping. I’d lost complete control of my ability to move.

  When did I become the girl who was so easily captivated by a nice piece of man candy?

  “What are you—” he started, then his eyes slid down to my swimsuit, and now he was the one staring.

  I felt my face get even hotter, if that was possible.

  Then he cleared his throat and reached for a clipboard lying on top of a duffle bag. He did a quick scan of the roster, and without missing a beat, gave me a knowing look. “Okay, yeah. So, go ahead and get in the pool with the rest of the class. We were just about to get started.”

  “What are you even doing here?” I squeaked in a voice so high-pitched probably only dogs could hear it.

  But somehow Will had understood, because he answered. “Remember that jack-of-all-trades thing? Well, this is one of them. I work here too.”

  My brain glitched. Will is my instructor . . . Will is my instructor . . . Will is my instructor . . .

  I blinked, trying to force my thoughts under control, because this . . . this was nuts. It was bad enough I was in Beginning Swimming with the little kids, but now Will was teaching the class?

  Will was “the friend” Noah knew who taught lessons. It was bad enough No way could I let Will teach me. I never should have come here in the first place.

  “I . . . this was just a misunderstanding,” I said, and turned to make my escape back into the locker room, my bare feet slapping hard against the concrete.

  But Will stopped me. “Hey, hold up a sec.” I was glad his voice was low. This was the last conversation I wanted to have in front of prying little ears. His head dipped closer to mine. “I know this must be tough for you.” My skin betrayed me by peppering with goose bumps the moment his fingers reached out to mine. “But it’s not a bad idea.” He frowned. “You were right to get mad at me last night, when I said you were stupid for trying to teach yourself to swim. I didn’t mean to insult you, but what you did was . . .” He ran his hand through his hair. “It was reckless, Brown Eyes. But this is what I do. I teach people to swim—let me help you.” I told myself not to look into his eyes, but when I heard the urgency in his voice, I couldn’t stop myself.

  And that’s when he had me. He wasn’t lying.

  Dammit.

  My shoulders wilted as I peered past him. “Okay, fine. Yes, but . . .” I grimaced, not even sure where to start. “Not like this. Not with a bunch of . . . toddlers.” I nodded toward the pool, where several of the kids were trying to keep their heads above water as they balanced on their tiptoes.

  Will chuckled. “Come on, these kids are well past toddling.” And ju
st when I was about to let him know I wasn’t in the mood to be teased, his fingers squeezed mine. “Look, don’t be that way. It’ll be okay. Let me show you.” He coaxed me forward, and even though each step closer to the water made my chest tighten with anxiety, his grip was sure and comforting. And before I could run away, I was standing at the water’s edge.

  I should have objected—this whole thing was ridiculous. But I didn’t want to. I need this lesson, I justified. Plus, there was that part of me that . . . even after everything I’d witnessed, couldn’t help being drawn to Will.

  Before I could back out entirely, he made an announcement. “Class,” he said, and just like that all eyes were on him. “Today I have a special surprise for you.”

  I suddenly wished I’d drowned in the ocean after all. I stood awkwardly, feeling like there was a spotlight shining down on me. Even the parents waited to see what Will had to say.

  Will’s hand settled on the small of my back. “We’re going to have a helper for class! Say hi to Lauren.”

  A helper. So that was how he was planning to play this.

  I could live with that.

  I glanced down at the gap-toothed grins as the kids in the pool waved at me.

  They were sort of adorable. Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  I turned to Will and he smiled at me, not gap-toothed at all, and a different kind of butterflies erupted. “Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s do this.”

  LAUREN

  The hour-long lesson went by fast and wasn’t nearly as torturous as I’d imagined it would be.

  With Will by my side, I almost forgot I was terrified of the water.

  Almost.

  I still panicked as I descended the steps, my heart racing and cold sweat prickling the back of my neck as I remembered the way I’d choked on the salty ocean water. How I’d had to be dragged to safety.

  But after I was submerged, at least to my waist, I was able to breathe evenly again, and then I was nervous about something else altogether—having an audience. But after a few stealthy glances toward the bleachers, it wasn’t hard to tell I was pretty much invisible to the mom crowd.

  They were much more interested in the lessons. Or more specifically in the instructor. I caught several eager mommies eyeing him hungrily.

  There may even have been a few camera phones snapping pics for posterity.

  And who could blame them, really? Shirtless Will was hard not to look at. I’d caught myself peeking at his defined muscles more than once.

  The first thing the class was supposed to master was putting our faces in the water and holding our breath.

  I had a lock on that one. So, as Will’s “helper” it was my job to assist the kids who didn’t.

  The whole thing was sort of gross, really.

  There was lots of sputtering, plenty of disgusting snot bubbles, and so much choking that I prayed I wouldn’t have to give any of them mouth-to-mouth. There were no snot bubbles on Baywatch.

  On her first try, Gracie got her face in the water and Will gave her an enthusiastic, and utterly endearing, thumbs-up, making her flash her toothless grin at him. This Will was so the opposite of the one I’d known up until now, I had to wonder which Will was the real Will.

  When he announced he wanted us to try lying back in the water, to see if we could float on our backs, my time as an observer came to an end. The closest I’d ever come to floating was when I used to soak in my parents’ Jacuzzi tub, and now I was quickly learning that one had nothing at all to do with the other.

  I told myself I could do this. It was irrational to be afraid of drowning—Will wouldn’t ask me to do this if it wasn’t safe.

  But every time I tried to lean back, my body instinctively curled in on itself. I was about as graceful as a drowning cat. I only hoped I wouldn’t end up with my own snot bubbles.

  I jolted when I felt Will’s hand slip beneath my back, moving low as he supported me. I tried—one more time—to stay afloat.

  “Relax,” Will soothed, lifting my body so I was lying flat atop the water’s surface. I found myself eye to eye with him. “Keep your chest up and your head back.” His voice was gentle . . . slow. “Remember to breathe.”

  Breathe. Easier said than done.

  His hands were distracting. They were tethering either side of my hips as I drifted. We stayed like that forever. Too long, probably, and I wondered if anyone noticed the way I was looking at him, and the way he was looking at me.

  Then one of his thumbs moved, just the barest amount, and heat lashed through me. I jolted again. This time it was just a slight shift, only enough for the two of us to notice. But Will’s eyes clouded over.

  He released me abruptly. “You’re . . . you’re doing great.” His voice was rough and low, but he recovered quickly as he turned to the boy on the other side of me. “How you doin’, Jackson? You look like a champ!”

  I started to sink, and I thrashed just before my feet hit the pool floor. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed that I couldn’t float without Will’s guidance. I was too humiliated that I’d let him affect me.

  If not for the look on his face, or the way he’d practically shoved me away from him, I might not even suspect he’d been just as bothered. He didn’t seem half as unsettled as I was by whatever had just passed between us.

  But I was sure I hadn’t imagined it.

  “Lauren, wait up a sec.”

  Lauren. Not Brown Eyes.

  I had my gym bag slung over my shoulder and was just about to unlock my car when I saw Will jogging my way. I tried not to notice that he was still in his swim trunks, his chest all tan and muscular. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I’m . . .” The word drifted off as his face screwed up in concentration.

  Shit. I knew that look. That wasn’t the same time next week look. That was the I think we need a break look.

  My stomach dropped.

  I sighed. “Yeah?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure this is gonna work out.”

  And there it was. “I assume you mean my swim lessons.”

  “Yeah, that. The lessons . . . maybe they weren’t such a great idea after all.”

  Since he’d been the one to talk me into staying, I felt like I deserved some sort of explanation. “Can I at least ask why? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” He shook his head. And then, as if he was convincing himself, “No. No, of course not. I just . . .”

  I pursed my lips, waiting for more, irritated that he was beating around the bush. I’d thought it was sweet the way he’d talked Gracie off the steps and told the kids I was his “helper” rather than some loser grown-up who’d never learned to swim. And now here we were, with him basically firing me. “Really? Because I thought it went fine.” My hands were on my hips as I bridged the gap between us. “Are you embarrassed to have me in your class? Or did one of those bitch moms complain about me being there? Because I saw them with their iPhones, and they damn sure weren’t taking pictures of their kids.” I tried to punch a hole in his chest with my finger.

  He chuckled, closing his hand over mine to keep me from using it as a weapon against him. “Take it easy, Brown Eyes. It’s nothing like that. Really. It’s just . . .” His eyes found mine and I could see that this had nothing to do with the swim mommies. “I don’t know how to say this, but I think you need more attention than I can give you.” And then, his grip shifted, and his thumb moved over my wrist.

  I wasn’t sure I could handle any more attention than he was giving me at that very moment. It would’ve been easier if he’d released my hand, because God knew I wasn’t capable of taking it back myself. And from the way he was looking at me, his eyes searching mine, I didn’t think I ever wanted my hand back.

  Emerson always gave me shit about not giving guys a chance. Maybe that was why I was still carrying my V card. There was no point denying that Will drove me absolutely and utterly insane, but he also made me want to explore
these crazy new feelings I was having. Actually made me consider giving up the card entirely, and not just because I’d put myself under some self-imposed deadline.

  But then the truth of what he’d said hit me, and mortification washed over me.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, extracting my hand from his. “So, you’re saying I’m . . . that terrible? That I suck so hard I can’t even be in your beginner swim class? The one for children?” I seriously thought I might die, right then and there.

  His eyes shot to mine, a fathomless eddy of surprise and concern. “No!” he insisted. “That’s not it at all! What I’m saying is that it’s not fair to the other students. I need to focus on them.” He hovered over the brink of something, and again it drove me crazy, that hedging thing. He shook his head. “And I can’t do that with you there.”

  I paused just a second to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood him. And then I cocked my hip to one side, studying him with a wicked grin. “So it’s not that I suck, it’s that I’m . . . distracting?” I let the last word dangle there, thinking how much easier that was on my ego.

  Will flinched, his green eyes clouding over. Then he set his jaw and crossed his arms over his bare chest. He looked like an angry Adonis. “Think much of yourself? That’s not even close to what I said. Lifeguard says there are too many people in the pool and you’re the last to join. Simple as that.”

  I wanted to tell him I wasn’t buying it—he was full of shit. If it was a matter of numbers, he wouldn’t have offered to teach me in the first place. No, this was personal.

  But it was too late, he was already walking away from me.

  Besides, did it matter what his reasons were? I couldn’t make him teach me how to swim and I couldn’t tell him why I needed to learn so badly.

  Basically, I was back to square one. I was gonna have to figure it out on my own.

  WILL