I sigh, leaning into the pull on the rowing machine. “Bitch.”
My mind wanders again—to the smell of citrus and those brooding brown eyes.
Mylo.
My mood sours, and I increase my pace.
“Princess? I’ll show you a princess.” He thinks I’m cocky? He should look in a damn mirror.
Yeah, he has the skills—but so do I.
Normally, I thrive on this kind of friendly competition. I don’t know why it’s getting under my skin.
Lack of sleep might have something to do with it.
Frustrated, I drop the rowing handle and let it snap back into the machine. I throw a towel over my shoulder, and my legs are moving, itching for something else to do.
I push into the empty pool room. There’s nobody around to complain, but I kind of wish there was.
I toss my phone and towel onto a lounge chair, get a running start, and do a front-flip cannonball into the mirror-smooth pool. The cool water and sting bring me back into my body, and I unfurl into a dolphin kick, coursing through the pool until my palms hit a wall. I’ve seen Morgan swim laps enough times on our retreats, when Avery and I are kicking back with rum punch. It’s not too hard to imitate.
It’ll eventually be as boring as the rowing machine, but for now it’s something new to work on. Maybe I should take up diving. That’s pretty acrobatic. Requires a special pool though… I’ll text my assistant about it later.
For now, I try sillier and sillier strokes, half disappointed Morgan isn’t here to be offended on behalf of the dignity of the sport of swimming.
Eventually, I lean over the edge of the pool, admiring the lingering spray from my cannonball on the window before eyeing the harbor beyond.
Memories stir, and for a moment, waves sigh around me. Hard, cold sand softens under my feet as I step out into the water, grey clouds rippling overhead on a snapping sea breeze, a distant seagull cries…
I shake my head and trudge toward the pool’s stairs.
The past is the past.
Nothing to do about it now.
CHAPTER
NINE
MYLO
Everything everywhere isa field of perfect blue.
In the distance, muffled waves crash on a shore.
My nose stings with salt and seaweed.
I can’t breathe.
I’m underwater.
Sinking, lungs burning, kicking wildly, crushed from every side, drowning, drowning, drowning?—
My lungs spasm, gasping in a breath.
Heat and relief flood me.
The water turns warm, languid, caressing…
