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The plan in my head should be a balm to my nerves, yet I’m still miles away from anything resembling calm.
What’s been happening to me these past two days?
Normally, whenever one of the neighbors joins me on one of my lonely nights up here, I’m not afraid. A tiny bit uncomfortable, sure, but nothing like this.
The only logical conclusion is this isn’t one of my neighbors. The building’s security guard wouldn’t allow strangers in. And yet as I near the edge of the pool, I can’t help to feel he messed up.
This person who watches me can’t be one of my neighbors. He can’t because I recognize the eerie vibe he gives me from somewhere else. Where I was being watched. Scrutinized. Analyzed by someone’s glare.
It’s the person from Friday evening. The one who I thought watched me in the clinic’s parking lot.
Except I don’tthinkanymore. I’mconvincedthis person followed me.
The terror this realization delivers shakes me out of my stupor.
No longer moving in slow motion, I pinch my eyes shut tighter, swimming to the deep end of the pool. It’s not ideal, but it’s closer than the low part.
I curl my fingers on the edge of the pool, sucking in a lungful of air.
On the count of three, I’m going to hop out and run for it. One, two…
I lift myself, opening my eyes as my biceps pull me higher.
And freeze in place.
A man’s bare feet and his calves stand in my line of vision. He has stupid-gorgeous toes, barely any hair on his toned legs, and a powerful stance.
It shouldn’t matter. Itdoesn’tmatter. He might as well be Henry Cavill at this point. Any person who has my skin crawling like this one right here is one I have to steer clear of.
As in, now.
“Hello.”
My escape plan reaches a screeching halt at his voice.
As much as I’d love to break into a run—in which I might or might not slip and faceplant into the hardwood floor—I can’t. I’m paralyzed by his command.
His authoritative tone in that one simple greeting locks me in place. The cadence of his voice is rich and a little hoarse like he just rolled out of bed.
He sounds sexy, dominating his surroundings, without giving off sleazy vibes.
Wordlessly, he tells me he won’t harm me.
The panic constricting my chest unknots itself. As I linger in place, staring at his feet, I start believing I’ve been making things up this whole time. Have been anxious over nothing ever since Friday.
I’m overworked. I barely get any sleep.
No one’s responsible for the weird feeling in my gut other than myself.
Still, though…
Thathello.
“You okay?” The stranger pulls me out of the near-hypnosis he’s put me under.
“Umm, yeah, I…” I pull my goggles up my head.
Shoot. I’m talking and staring at his feet. Still. Who’s the creep now?
