Page 4 of Maybe You

I pick out a weighted rubber ball that’s used for diving practice and toss it up and down a few times. Heavy, but not so heavy you could knock somebody unconscious with it.

He still hasn’t noticed me, because by now he’s just floating on his back in the middle of the pool.

I almost feel bad. He looks strangely peaceful like this, floating on his back in the middle of the night. Then again, if he wanted to be peaceful, he shouldn’t have started that mission by breaking in here.

As much as I usually appreciate my invisibility, I’ll make an exception for tonight. I aim and send the ball flying.

It hits the dude straight on the forehead. He draws in a satisfying mouthful of water, splutters and flails, and goes under for a few seconds before his head pops out of the water again. He wipes his hand over his face as he looks around.

It takes him a second to find me. I expect him to be pissed, but instead his gaze fixes on me.

Holds.

And then his lips tilt up in a slow grin. For a few moments, our eyes stay locked, and the room feels very still and silent.

Then…

“I surrender,” he says and lifts his palms up.

I eye him for another second. Now that I have his attention, I’m honestly not sure what to do with it. He’s supposed to try and run away or make excuses or something normal like that. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he simply looks at me while he’s still treading water.

“Good for you.” I nod toward the bottom of the pool. “Get the ball back.”

He studies me for another second before he salutes me and goes under again. He emerges a few seconds later, the ball clutched between his fingers, wades to the edge of the pool, and holds the ball out for me, a challenge on his face, and a playful smirk in his eyes.

I quirk my brow at him. “Do you need help getting out of the water?”

He aims another cocky grin my way. “Just making sure I have your full attention.”

I look him up and down, what little I see of him. The water distorts the image, but what I can see is pretty damn impressive. I can see his six-pack through the water, so that kind of tells you where we’re at in the physical shape department. I start to tug the sleeves of my shirt lower before I catch myself and stuff my hands into my pockets.

And it doesn’t stop there, by the way. That six-pack also comes with a side of wide chest, defined forearms, deep brown eyes, a mess of dirty blond hair, dark eyebrows, and equally dark, long lashes.

Fuck’s sake, Wren, are you actually checking out a burglar? They’re called standards. You should go and get some.

Based on the smug smile, there’s about zero percent chance he’s not aware about the way he looks and the impact those looks most likely have on people. I’m not really helping curb that arrogance by staring, am I? And I am staring, even if the arrogance is a bit of a turn-off, to be honest.

He leans his very nice forearms on the edge of the pool and settles in, eyes lazily swiping up and down me. There’s not much to see here. I’m in a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt. It’s my usual uniform. I’m also tired from a day of school and most definitely covered in blood and bandages. That doesn’t stop him from taking his time, and it doesn’t stop the cocky grin on his lips widening.

“And you are?” he asks.

I stare back.

“Does it usually work?” I blurt out. I don’t mean to say that, but I’m feeling genuinely curious right now.

The smile doesn’t falter one bit.

“Does what usually work?”

I cross my arms over my chest for a moment before I wave one hand in his general direction. “You’re not supposed to be here. I know it. You obviously know it. And yet, you don’t seem that worried about what is essentially you breaking into this place. Which makes me think it’s a regular thing for you. So just out of curiosity, does that aw-shucks grin usually help?”

Where I assume other people possibly might feel contrite after what I just said, this dude is very much unapologetic.

“Ninety-nine percent of the time,” he says. “There was this older woman once who seemed immune, but it later turned out she just had terrible eyesight. The moment she put her glasses on she got with the program, and I was off the hook.”

I can feel my eyebrows climbing higher. He’s breaking in. He got caught. For the life of me, I don’t understand how he seems so at ease right now. And who even breaks into a fucking pool anyway? Just to take a midnight dip? Why? Fucking mental.

I drag my hand through my hair and watch him climb out of the water, droplets showering down all around him.