Page 170 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
“Oh,” I stuttered. “Um, no problem.”
We were going to stay in the guest house? Most parents of unmarried people our age would have had us in bedrooms across the house from each other.
While Tal’s mom got me settled in front of a huge cheese plate and sandwich fixings, she chattered away about business and hobbies and the design of the house—something about wanting to be part of nature without actually being in nature, which made me smile. “What are your hobbies, dear? Tal told us you’re a musician?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, clearing my throat and trying to think of an impressive way to say, I play at the coffeehouse and sometimes people give me tips and I’m not at all sure my music is any good. “I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. And then I picked it back up again in college, sort of as a confidence thing, I guess.”
“Well, that’s great! I don’t know why you didn’t bring your guitar, you could have shown us.”
“Oh, it’s not for that. It’s more like . . . it’s just for me.” I looked down at my hands. My mom had always wanted me to play something classy, like violin. But my mom had always wanted me to do a lot of shit I never did—like be thin. Or non-crazy. Or have a major that would make me rich.
“Tal’s heard your shows, right?”
I nodded.
“He says your music is very . . . you. That your face lights up when you play.”
“Mom,” Tal said from the far door. “Stop. I’ve never even told Anna that. I was saving it for when I needed something romantic to say.” But his smile betrayed that he didn’t care at all.
She gave Tal a quick kiss on the cheek and me a squeeze on the shoulder before she got in her BMW and rolled down the dirt drive.
“We’ll have a big dinner tomorrow night, and then lounge around all day Sunday with my cousins,” Tal explained. “They’ll invade this place tomorrow afternoon, which is one of the reasons we get the guest house. Wanna go see?”
The suggestive way he wiggled his eyebrows made the choice easy. I helped him stow the leftovers in a fridge as big as my 2004 Corolla and silently took his hand outside.
The guest house was much more normal-looking than the main house—at least it had real walls. On the inside, high ceilings lined with exposed honey-colored beams stretched in every direction. It was an open floor plan, with the bedroom running into a living room with pillowed couches, a tree-trunk coffee table, and another huge TV, which ran into a small kitchen whose only table was a granite-topped island.
It seemed Tal’s design tastes were genetic. Either that, or everything was designed by his mom.
Either way, this was incredible. “Wow,” I breathed. “This is . . .”
“Romantic?” Tal grinned. “Take your clothes off.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. Every light in this place was on and I
had no idea where the switches were. And even if only one light was on, the light from it would bleed into the rest of the little house and . . .
“I . . . uh . . .”
“I meant so you can put your swimsuit on,” Tal said, laughing. “I put your bag on the bed.”
“We’re going swimming?” I asked. “Now? In the dark?”
“Just come on,” he said. “You’ll love it. I’ll wait outside.”
I pulled on my suit—a black ruched halter-style tankini, for maximum cuteness and a little pinup-style sexiness without the frump—a cover-up, and flip-flops, and headed outside. The Carroll house was more like a compound—we walked through the rear garden, which featured an entire outdoor kitchen, bar, and living room—and around to the other side of the giant house.
There, about twenty feet inside a small copse of trees, was a pool that looked more magical than real. The water filled it completely and flowed over the edges into some reservoir below. Pink, blue, and green lights under the water lit it softly, and in the dimming light, it looked absolutely magical. “Wow,” I said. That word felt like it was on a permanent loop in my head ever since we arrived here.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my fingers lightly and pulling me toward the pool.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Where’s your suit?”
“My parents are gone all night,” he said, those greenish-brown eyes I loved so much sparkling wickedly. “And see the trees all around? My dad wanted to build the pool here so they could see the Valley, but the Valley couldn’t see us.” Sure enough, as I gazed through the trees, I could see the little houses that housed each vineyard family lighting up in the hills below.
When I turned around again, Tal stood there in the moonlight, stark naked except for his glasses and a glorious hard-on. Desire surged through me, and even though I would have thought he was nuts five seconds ago, diving in that pool after him was about the most logical thing to do next. When he tossed his glasses on one of the poolside tables and dove in, my hands scrambled to tear off my cover-up. I couldn’t get naked and close to him fast enough.
That is, until the cover-up fell to my feet, and I was transported back to the set of that stupid shoot. The other girls and I had all laughed, covering up as much as we could as we stepped up to the white backdrop. Standing together in front of the all-female photographers, we laughed awkwardly about checking things off our bucket lists and at least we didn’t have to pay for professional headshots. The flash of the camera flashed me back to the pool.
