Page 15 of Something Merry


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“Have you been back to visit since you left?” I ask.

“Not really,” he shakes his head, “It felt a little hard to make an excuse to go out there when there wasn’t really anybody I wanted to go visit or anything.”

There’s a definite hint of melancholy to the words, so palpable it makes my own heart ache a little. “Well,” I say brightly, “Maybe now you can. Brendon and I owe you lunch, right?”

He chuckles. “No, you don’t, I invited you.”

“And now I’m inviting you,” I counter, “Next time you’re in New York, we’re buying you lunch,” I declare matter-of-factly.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to make an excuse to go out there and see you,” he says with a smile.

“I guess you will.”

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your swim, then,” he says, starting to turn away.

I’m about to let him when something occurs to me. “Oh! Hey, we never got to talk about the private lessons yesterday.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” he laughs, “I keep getting distracted.”

“Good conversation,” I shrug, “I get it, I’m having the same problem, obviously.”

“Well, I know you’re planning on joining me for my one o’clock today, and I’m pretty packed tomorrow, but day after that, I actually have the afternoon off. Brianna’s going to have the studio for her hip-hop and jazz classes, but I can have them set aside one of the small conference rooms for me.”

“That would be awesome, as long as it’s not going to be a hassle or anything,” I tell him.

“Not at all, I do that for private lessons all the time,” he reassures me, “Why don’t you guys meet me here day after tomorrow at two?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I tell him with a grin.

With that, he actually bids me goodbye this time and leaves, and I head down the hall for my swim.

If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think I was developing a little crush on the dance instructor. I feel guilty even thinking something like that, but I can’t help it. There’s just something oddly magnetic about him.

There are lounge chairs lined around the pool, and I select one to leave my towel on. There are a handful of other people around, but one girl is simply lounging and reading, one man is doing very focused laps, and another couple is just sort of off to one side talking and laughing with each other while lazily paddling around.

I kick off my flip-flops and dip my toes into the water, pleased to find that the temperature is far more comfortable than the water I’d been walking in yesterday.

I shrug off my t-shirt and wriggle out of my shorts, leaving them with the towel, and get into the pool, making my own slow laps around and nodding politely when I pass anyone else.

I dive under the water for a few strokes, opening my eyes despite the faint burn of chlorine. But there’s something peaceful about the underwater world that helps me disconnect from my brain for a moment, to really clear my head. When I surface, I turn over onto my back.

The reflection off the water makes patterns on the ceiling, and I watch them as I paddle along slowly, thinking.

I love Brendon, with all my heart. That much I know to the core of my being. And why wouldn’t I? He’s everything any woman could possibly dream of. He’s drop-dead sexy, wealthy and generous, funny, sweet, supportive…the list goes on and on.

Sometimes I wonder what a guy like him could possibly see in a nothing like me, though, and I feel like I’m just waiting for him to wake up and realize that he could do better. Not that he’s ever shown any signs of wanting better, and in fact frequently assures me of the opposite. But we’re our own worst critics, I guess.

Chapter Eight

Brendon

When I wake to an empty bed, I’m momentarily gripped with panic. It’s not unusual for Hazel to be up before me, but the stony silence I’m met with indicates that she’s not even in the room.

I reach for my phone to try and call her, only to find a post-it note over the screen telling me she’d gone down for a little swim and wishing me sweet dreams. I breathe out a sigh of relief and lay back down, settling comfortably onto my back.

I have to admit, I’m grateful for the extra rest, even though I feel bad that Hazel’s wandering around alone. Last night was a late one, and I definitely needed to crash. And while some people struggle to sleep while they’re in an unfamiliar bed, I’m having no such trouble here at the Hidden Pearl.

In fact, I think I could easily drift back to sleep if I let myself right now, but I decide to stay awake and wait for Hazel to get back, not wanting to sleep the entire vacation away. After all, I don’t know what time she’d left me this note, so she could be back any minute now.

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