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And yet…
“Andalise,” Luke whispered, the huskiness of his voice pulling her focus back up, “are you okay?”
“N-not sh-sure,” she chattered out.
Another foamy wave pushed against them, but as Luke’s legs were rooted like tree trunks, he barely moved. Indeed, it rather felt like the sea was parting around them, and time was slowing down, and any minute something really big might happen. Something like those warm, pillowy,hungry-lookinglips of his taking a nibble on her. Which definitely sounded better than a shark but was still scary as hell.
Burying her face in Luke’s neck, Andy hugged him even tighter, and for several seconds, they just stood that way. Until finally, she felt Luke swallow against her lips. Which were basically plastered to one of the tattoos decorating his throat. Not kissing, of course. Just mooching some delicious body heat. “Andy,” he began huskily.
“Y-yeah?”
“I’m thinking maybe we should take this back to my place.”
“Uhm…” Was the man saying what she thought he was saying?
“Yeah,” he said decisively, “I think we need to take a baby-steps approach to the surf lessons. How ‘bout we start you out in my condo’s pool?”
She snorted. God, her brain was so damn pervy sometimes.
“S-sounds good.”
After a pit stop at the nearest water spigot, a bare-but-clean-footed Andy trailed Luke down the street to Tidal View Condominiums. Luke carried only a towel draped about his neck. Andy, meanwhile, had her hands full.
Why?
Because when she’d offered to hold something — staring meaningfully at the Tweety — Luke had only laughed before handing her the surfboard.
At the gated pool entrance behind his complex, Luke punched in a four-digit code, then held the door for her with exaggerated gentlemanly swagger. Andy bee-lined for the nearest cabana chair.
The lounger was one of many silvery-gray mesh rectangles surrounding a much larger crystalline-blue rectangle, and it, like the rest of the patio furniture, was as empty as the pool. Thank god. Dumping her boots and backpack, Andy turned to that beautiful oasis of chlorinated water and smiled.
“More your element?”
Andy slanted Luke a look — one she hoped said, “Just you wait and see, buddy” — as she shoved the surfboard at his chest. Digging her goggles from her backpack, she walked away, drawn like a magnet to the pair of diving boards at the deep end of the pool. Climbing up on the first one, she strode to the end of it and curled her toes over the edge. The water below was perfectly still.
Also perfectly clear. No men in gray suits lurking in the depths here. Just a half dozen thick navy stripes painted on the pool bottom.
Swinging her arms up, Andy sprang from the board and cut cleanly through the imaginary hoop she always imagined when she dove. Perfect eighty-degree water enveloped her as she torpedoed through billions of tiny bubbles.
Oh, yeah. This was definitely more her element.
With a few strong kicks, Andy breached the surface and transitioned into her stroke. Years of lap swimming had honed her technique into a series of fluid, efficient movements, and in practically no time, she was rolling into her first turn and bounding off the wall of the pool.
Not even winded, she cut back across the length of it, then flipped and did it again, every rhythmic slice of her arms as controlled as the steady flutter of her feet.
It wasn’t until her fourth lap that she noticed she had company: a shadow moving along the navy stripe to her left. Rotating her head to draw a breath as that long-bodied shadow drew abreast, Andy caught a peek of her surf instructor. Who also appeared to be quite the swimmer.
Luke’s strokes were every bit as practiced as her own, and if he were to hit the gas, no doubt they’d be more powerful. But he didn’t, and for another hundred meters, they swam at a leisurely pace, mirroring each other with their breathing.
Until Andy — feeling a bit emboldened when she noticed Luke wasn’t as quick off the wall as she was — decided to kick things up a notch. Coming up for air before her next turn, Andy met Luke’s gaze just long enough to stick out her tongue. The distraction had a snort of bubbles flying out of his nose and his strokes faltering. Andy took full advantage, rolling into her turn at twice her previous speed and exploding off the wall.
Then she hauled ass.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe.
Halfway acrossthe pool, that long shadow was catching up to her fast. Adrenaline flooded through her limbs, and she pushed herself even harder, imagining a shark really was coming after her.
