by K. F. Breene
As Sean stood up, Krista nearly dove behind a bush. She felt like a Peeping Tom just standing there, in the middle of nothing, staring. But oh my lord, he looked good.
He was in a bathing suit, wet, and walking toward the pool with two girls, one on each side. Both girls were pretty, younger than her, and were focusing on Sean like a goat looking at trousers. And why shouldn’t they? He was magically hot. His defined pecs were glistening in the sunlight. His flat stomach and washboard abs soaked in the sun and tucked into his slim but muscular hips. His giant broad shoulders rippled when he moved his arms to gesture. His face was carefree and easy, a smile here, a flash of his brilliant eyes there. He was at home half-naked in this glamorous setting with a girl on each arm.
Did I ever actually think he could be mine? Krista was delusional.
But she did get to see him naked, so point to Krista. Eat that, tiny tots.
She decided to forego the beverage for the moment, since she planned to get in the pool right away anyway, and decided blending in with the groupie horde was not the way to play it. Looking stupid wasn’t what she was going for today. She already had poor and out-of-place going, so she figured any more titles would just weight her down.
Instead, she chose a spot near the rock wall free of people and put on some sun lotion. Once done, and all her non-swimming clothes stowed in her satchel, she dangled her feet in the water. Her skin could tan beautifully, but it was out of practice way out in Sunset. She needed to build up a base, so it was essential that the tanning lotion sink in properly.
While she waited, she tried to watch Sean’s progress to the water’s edge, but as soon as he dropped down, he was lost to the swarm of girls. How could the guy stand it? It looked suffocating.
She belatedly noticed she’d chosen a seat near John’s woman, who was lying on a lawn chair about ten feet away from the water’s edge. And yikes! The girl could scare a straight man gay. Her leathery-brown skin was glistening—probably baby oil—and her platinum blond head spilled her dry and cracked hair over the end of the chair. She was on her back, and while she was skinny with a decent body, her boobs looked like they were trying to rocket off her body into outer space. Bad boob job! Very bad. They were probably really hard. So gross.
As soon as Krista’s lotion was good and soaked in, she headed to the diving board. She was determined not to notice Sean and his women, so she kept her head down as she mounted the higher of the two boards, and then did a quick swan dive into the water.
Yes, she was showing off a little. She’d done diving as a sport for a couple years when she was younger, so she had a few good dives down. She had no idea why the sport her parents chose to push her into was diving, rather than soccer or ballet, but every once in a while she was the biggest attraction at pool parties. She was hoping, in light of Sean’s groupies, this was one of those times.
Thanks Ma.
The water was cool and refreshing. She swam a few strokes, and when she surfaced, she treaded water. She loved swimming. She was marginally good at it, but what’s more, the feeling of weightlessness was always a decided attraction. Because of this, she wasn’t in a hurry to get out.
It took about two minutes before a guy about her age started to swim closer. She was not only fresh meat, but the only girl not vying for Sean’s attention.
Wait—not true. Rocket Boob over there was also on her own. She probably didn’t count, though.
“Hey,” the youngish guy said by way of greeting. He had dirty blue eyes and short blond hair. As in, buzz cut short. He was good looking, if no Sean, and thin shouldered. The rest of him was below water, and Krista wasn’t interested enough to scope it out.
“Hi.”
“I’m Adam.”
“Hi. I’m Krista.”
“Oh hey.” He kind of turned away, but stayed in her vicinity. Apparently that was him hanging out with her.
Krista rolled her eyes. Being close and not talking was middle school behavior—Freshman, tops. She was not in the mood to relive those days, so she leisurely swam towards the edge of the pool where her stuff was.
It was then that she realized it wasn’t just one or two stray guys who took notice. It was most of the male horde. They were all gathered around her stuff, some looking at her, some at Adam, and some at the crazy boobs of John’s woman.
Krista decided that turning around and swimming in the opposite direction as fast as she could would look weird, so she kept paddling in. The good news was, she didn’t feel so ugly. Bad news was, she now had to talk to these clowns. She wasn’t sure that was much better than the businessmen.
“That was a nice dive,” said one of the guys loitering around her stuff. He had brown eyes and auburn hair that was drying every which way. He was attractive in a boy band sort of way.
All of them were, actually. They were all cut from the same mold. An expensive mold, but unoriginal. All slightly above average looking, all with shortish hair, all with preppie accents, and all thinking too much of themselves. They were the children of the surrounding families, and the surrounding families were rich, and probably ran empires. Krista was again the stinking pauper. No more office parties!
“Thanks,” she said, not even bothering to feign interest.
She hopped out of the pool ten or so feet from him and the others, and sighed in resignation when a few of them got up and moved over.
“Do you know any more?” Brown Eyes asked.
“What, dives?” To his nod she said, “A couple. I try to switch up my repertoire as the day wears on.”
It was a joke. He didn’t laugh. Either he didn’t get it, didn’t think it was funny, or was too busy being misunderstood to laugh.
After a second of realizing something was expected of him, he smiled and said, “Oh, cool. You want something to drink?”
Yes! “Sure.”
“Beer?”
Champagne! “Great.”
“’Kay.” He turned to look for one of his friends. “Billy! Get two beers, will-ya?”
There was a disembodied “yeah” before Brown Eyes refocused on her. Krista did a quick check of her suit to make sure she was all tucked inside. She would hate to think she was luring them.
Oh wait, she had a vagina—yeah, she was luring them.
“So, who are you here with?” he said, returning to the ‘getting to you know you’ stage of the conversation.
“My company.”
“Oh, cool. You work in the city or around here?”
“City. I’m from Seattle originally so this is my first time in Marin.”
“Oh, cool. How do you like it so far?”
Billy, a somewhat ugly kid in his late teens, showed up sans beers. “That watcher-woman wouldn’t let me. She said I wasn’t old enough.”
“Well, tell her it’s for me and my friend--?”
“Krista.”
“Krista.” Brown Eyes was flashing a mean scowl. He probably learned it from his dad.
“I did,” Billy whined. “She said to send you up yourself!”
Brown Eyes sighed and turned back to Krista. “Hard to find good help!”
Eww. That was a dick thing to say. “No problem. I need a walk, anyway.”
She was up and walking away before Brown Eyes could even blink. Billy bobbed behind her.
She found the stern looking staff member in front of the beer and wine table and approached without hesitation. Krista hoped she didn’t get carded because her purse with her ID was upstairs with her sweater.
As soon as she was in front of the table, however, the stern face became a smile. “How may I assist you, Miss Marshall?”
“Wha—“ How’d she know my name?? It was so very big brother.
“She’ll have a champagne, and I’ll have a beer, please.”
Krista’s stomach turned upside down and a teensy bit of pee escaped.
“Of course, Mr. McAdams.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The alcohol monitor swiveled her eyes, “Mr. R
ochester, I assume you have business elsewhere?”
Krista spun around and saw two things—one was that Billy was scampering off, and the other was that Sean was looking down into her soul, devouring her with sparkling eyes.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“Miss Marshall, your champagne?”
Krista turned back on a cloud, grabbed her champagne from the friendly staff member with stern tendencies, and stepped out of the way so Sean could step up. He received his beer and turned back to her.
“You made it,” he said with a smile and intense eyes. It seemed like it was just the two of them standing there; everything else fell away.
“Um, yes. Of course. We had to, right?” She was having a confidence problem. It was also hard to focus with that bare chest so close to her mouth.
“For the most part, yes. I just—“
“Ah, there you are.” It was Brown Eyes. Persistent little fucker.
Standing, he was about Sean’s height, but nowhere near his weight class. His thin, bony frame and tiny waist made him look like a boy next to Sean’s man. He didn’t let that bother him. He marched up like he owned the place.
“Stella, a beer please. And next time I send Billy, do me a favor and give him what he asks for. He’s my running boy for the day.”
Stern lady was back. “Hello Mr. Rochester. As I said, I am under strict orders to give alcoholic beverages to those over twenty-one-years-of-age only.”
“Stella, I would hate to talk to Tory about this,” Brown Eyes didn’t seem like he was showing off. He legitimately thought telling on Stella for doing her job was the right way to play it.
Krista stared; she was baffled.
“I would hate for you to interrupt his day as well, but if you feel you need to then, by all means. I will need to hear from him or Mrs. Hartling directly, of course, should any protocol change.” Stern turned to stone.
Krista started inching away. She would freely admit it: Stella scared her a little.
“Fine,” Brown Eyes said, with his hands on his hips. “Just give me a beer.”
“Of course,” Stone lady answered.
Krista had had enough. She wanted to hang out with Sean. She turned to him, with that intent, but two of his groupies were on scene, standing close, trying to get his attention with their chests out and their eyes trying to scare off the competition.
It wasn’t meant to be. When she finally looked at Sean, he was watching her with frustration.
“Well,” she said, nodding toward his fan club.
He glanced behind him quickly then turned back to her, “Did you…”
“That was a mess, huh?” Brown Eyes asked, cutting Sean off as he stepped up to Krista. “Oh hey. Sean McAdams, right?”
Sean’s eyes regretfully pivoted away from Krista and somewhat lost their focus as he looked at Brown Eyes. “Correct. And you are?”
“James Rochester the Third,” James stuck out his hand and puffed up his bony chest. He couldn’t have been much more than twenty-one, but he thought he owned the world already. He was probably the first born, and set to inherit a empire.
“Of course. Your father owns a winery in Napa, is that right?”
“Sonoma, actually, yes. Voted the ’Best Along the Wine Tour 2012!’”
“Okay, well, see you boys later,” Krista said.
Sean’s head snapped back to her and he opened his mouth to say something, but as his groupies—there were four now—stepped up to him, he regretfully nodded.
She got back to the pool and did another dive. Once in, she stayed in for a while, but wanted her champagne, so she headed back to the clan of boys to retrieve it. What she needed was a raft with a drink holder. That was the way to go. Unfortunately, there were no floaty devices in view. Worse still, James Rochester the Third was waiting for her.
“Hey. You got your champagne,” he said. He looked like the leader of this clan. Billy, who was bringing over strawberries for her, unasked, was the minion.
She thanked Billy and received a weird bow. He then ogled her breasts for a second before he took off.
“He’s my brother.”
“Ah. Errand boy by day, brother by night, huh?”
James blinked in response. For a prominent guy’s son, he seemed a bit dense.
Unconcerned, Krista drank some of her champagne and noticed a few other guys sat down around her, all talking animatedly about some computer game called “Call of Duty.” Krista was starting to think she misjudged their ages. She didn’t know anyone her age who played video games nonstop and sounded this stupid talking about it. Especially around a member of the opposite sex.
If Rocket Boobs wasn’t so awful, Krista would’ve gotten up and joined her area of the pool.
“Where you headed?” someone asked.
Krista didn’t bother to answer. Maybe they’d think she was a bitch and go away.
She did a dive where she touched her toes in mid-air before hitting the water. She stayed down for as long as possible, swimming toward the middle where there weren’t as many people, and popped back up. She needed to figure out how long she’d have to stay before she could leave and use the pool in her hotel.
When she finally surfaced she scanned the far side. She didn’t see Sean anywhere. She turned to her back and floated for a while, soaking up the sun and happy to have peace and quiet for the first time all day.
When she felt the water disturbance near her, she opened her eyes. Sean was treading water next to her, completely relaxed.
“You seem pretty content in the water,” she noticed.
That was putting it mildly. He looked like an otter.
“Surfer. It would be a dire thing if I wasn’t.”
“True.”
“You, however, are quite at home yourself for someone who panics when a wave hits her.”
“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that, so it doesn’t count. Two, it was, like, two degrees. I can swim just fine, but currents and rip tides and what not is a little nerve-wracking.”
“And sharks.”
“Yeah, sharks. And freezing water.”
He was lazily swimming around her. “That is why you wear a wetsuit.”
“Still cold. Especially on your face and hands.”
“And feet.”
“You are throwing up an argument, and then helping me throw up an opposition. Why?”
“I’m helpful.”
“You are also in girl-pleasing mode. Your cheerleaders are getting restless.” And they were. The girls were looking at Krista with hate and Sean with longing. Some were slowly drifting out their way.
“Yours, too.”
Krista didn’t want to look. Nor did she want to go back. “They are not cheerleaders, thank you very much. They are my spirit squad.”
Sean laughed unexpectedly loudly. He apparently didn’t see that one coming.
“I stopped by your house to get you but Ben said you had already left. I’m sorry, I should have called.”
“I took the bus to Marin and got a hotel room.”
Sean’s face went from humor to blank in a flash. “Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Did, ah, you plan on having company later?”
“No, actually. Don’t look so worried--I wasn’t planning on seducing you. I just thought I might drink and wanted to enjoy the area instead of having to catch a bus. I have a day at the spa planned tomorrow. Then the bus back, because I’ve been too busy to find a car. Your fault.”
“I wasn’t worried about you seducing me,” he continued his lazy lap.
“Oh, you were worried about me seducing one of their fathers,” she nodded toward his slowly approaching fan club. “Or were you thinking I had planned to overthrow Blondie and snag John?”
Sean smiled in an “I’m an idiot” sort of way. “You’d have to get a boob job in order to overthrow Blondie. I have a feeling John doesn’t know what real boobs feel like anymore.”
“Gross. They look really hard.”
“I will abstain from the rest of this conversation.”
“Eww. Please do. I don’t want to hear about your conquests. Also, your cheerleaders are starting to creep me out. I’m going to head to the shore.”
Sean glanced behind him and then slightly shook his head. “It was a toss-up between adoring girls or over-anxious old farts. Had the farts been in the pool, I would have gone that route. But, and don’t take my word for it, you’ve got a similar problem led by the winemaker’s son.”
She stopped floating for a minute and looked. There they were, just as Sean said, slowly floating out in her direction. There were five of them, all following James’s lead.
“Alright, until next time,” she said, giving Sean a wink and swimming toward the side in the middle of the pool, away from the Team Sean camp, and away from her own fan club.
She let herself air dry as she got another glass of champagne and considered talking to business people. She figured the neighborhood kids wouldn’t follow her toward their parents. As she pondered it, though, she saw more than one pair of old eyes dip, then stick, to her wet boobs.
Neighborhood kids it was. She would opt for a virgin’s attempt at hitting on a girl over a sleazy old man any day.
A few glasses of champagne and a few more dives later, she’d finally had enough. The neighborhood kids were dull, ridiculous, and extremely irritating. She didn’t care what this kid’s dad did, or what he got for his birthday. She also didn’t care which college this other kid went to, or what college his friend tried to get into and failed. They were too young, and their conversations were starting to chafe.
With her own call of duty over, she decided to find Sean and tell him she was leaving. And yes, if she was any good at seducing, she would absolutely give it a go.
Sean must have just told a joke because the cheerleaders were in rapture. Not wasting the opportunity to stare, she checked him out for the hundredth time. She just couldn’t get enough of that body. Seeing him in a swimsuit was heaven. Almost better than naked because there was that thrill of the chase. She wanted to trap him, move in, and reach down under those swim trunks and play with what she found.