5. Sienna
5
Sienna
I stand in the foyer, arms folded over my chest as Mom and Dad bustle around, double-checking they have everything they need for their weekend trip. It feels like a chaotic dance—Dad peering into his briefcase, Mom rummaging through her purse, both asking me questions in tandem.
“Sienna, are you sure you’ll be all right?” Mom calls, zipping up her jacket. “We can cancel if it’s too much trouble—”
“Mom, please,” I cut in, laughing softly. “I’m eighteen. I think I can handle a couple of days by myself.”
She purses her lips, trying to hide a smile. “I know, I know. I just worry.”
Dad slings his bag over his shoulder and glances at his watch. “We should get going if we don’t want to miss our flight.” Then he turns to me, eyebrows raised. “Anything you need before we go? Money for groceries? Gas for your car?”
“I’m good, Dad.” I wrap my arms around him for a quick, tight hug. “Have fun, you two. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Mom ruffles my hair as if I’m five, and I roll my eyes but grin. Then they’re off, pulling the door shut behind them. A moment later, I hear the car engine start up and fade as they drive away.
I wait until the sound disappears entirely before letting out a little squeal of excitement. “Yes!” I dash around, locking the doors, then practically skip up the stairs to my room to change. Two whole days, just me in the house, with no one hovering or asking if I’ve eaten or studied. Freedom.
After rummaging through my drawers, I grab my favorite black bikini—one with high-cut bottoms and a simple triangle top that always makes me feel a little extra confident. Not that I’m planning on parading around for anyone…but still. It’s nice to feel cute, especially after weeks of wearing hoodies and sweatpants during finals.
I fling on the bikini, tie my hair up in a loose bun, and throw on a pair of sunglasses. The sun is blazing, and it’s the perfect excuse to lounge by the pool. Before heading downstairs, I grab a cold water bottle and the latest fantasy novel I’ve been reading—some escapist fluff I’ve been dying to finish.
Outside, the backyard is quiet except for the gentle hum of cicadas in the hedges. The pool sparkles under the midday sun, the water a tempting shade of turquoise. I drop my towel onto a lounge chair, set my water and book on the small side table, and dip a toe into the pool. Warm on top, but cool beneath the surface—a perfect contrast to the heat pressing down from above.
With a sigh of contentment, I climb into the shallow end, letting the water crest around my waist. I love that first moment of submerging—like all my worries just wash away. The water glides against my skin, and I wade out until it’s deep enough to float.
Time slips by as I alternate between bobbing in the water and leaning on the pool’s edge to read a couple of pages. Once in a while, I glance toward the house, half-expecting to see my parents reappearing because they forgot something. But nobody’s there. There’s a pleasant hum of solitude all around.
I’m just about to swim another lap when I hear the faint rumble of a car engine in the driveway. My heart jumps a little, though I’m not sure why. Probably because I’m not expecting anyone. I wait, treading water and listening. Then, footsteps—firm and purposeful—head around the side of the house.
Dane steps into view, wearing tailored slacks and a crisp shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I immediately feel that familiar flutter low in my stomach, the same rush of adrenaline I’ve tried so hard to ignore. He’s holding a folder under his arm, looking like he’s just come from a meeting—though that slight looseness in his tie suggests otherwise. The heat of the afternoon sun touches his hair, and there’s a faint sheen of sweat on his brow.
“Sienna,” he calls, his voice sounding almost too casual. “I saw your parents pulling out of the driveway earlier. I’m guessing they left for their trip?”
I rest my arms on the edge of the pool, chin propped on them. “Yep. They should be en route to the airport right about now.”
He nods slowly, glancing around the empty backyard. “So you’re here alone?”
“Until Sunday.” I push myself off the edge and wade closer. The water feels suddenly warmer, or maybe that’s just my body reacting to his presence. “Did you, um, need my dad? Because he’s gone. You missed him by about twenty minutes.”
Dane steps toward a lounge chair and sets his folder down, carefully removing his sunglasses from his pocket. “We were supposed to go over some documents, but he told me we’d reschedule,” he explains. “I just wanted to drop them off.” His gaze flicks to me—specifically my bikini—and I can see the tension in his jaw. It sends a shiver right through me.
I float there, water lapping at my shoulders, suddenly very aware of how exposed I am. “Got it,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. “Well, feel free to leave them on his desk. Or I can take them to him when he gets back.”
His eyes linger on me. “I might need to go over a few details… but I suppose that can wait.” There’s a pause, weighted. “How’s the water?”
“Great.” I offer a small smile. “It’s practically perfect today.”
He rests his hands on his hips, looking down at me from the pool’s edge. “I can see that.” The way he says it feels loaded, a little heated. My pulse spikes. I’m not imagining this tension, am I? The air practically crackles between us.
I clear my throat, desperate to maintain some normalcy. “If you want, you can grab a drink from the kitchen or something. It’s crazy hot out.”
He looks at the house, then back at me. “Maybe in a minute.” He moves closer to the water’s edge, crouching down. I notice how his shirt stretches across his shoulders, emphasizing the breadth of them. “You really enjoy swimming, don’t you?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “It’s a nice way to clear my head.”
His gaze is intense, dipping momentarily to the curve of my collarbone, before snapping back to my eyes. “I can imagine,” he murmurs. Then, as if he’s trying to steer the conversation to safer ground, he adds, “So… you said your parents won’t be back until Sunday. Got any plans in the meantime?”
“Not really,” I admit. “Maybe meet up with a friend or two. But mostly just enjoying the quiet. Kind of a staycation.” I give a little shrug. “I haven’t had much downtime since starting college.”
He nods in understanding. “Good. You deserve a break.”
I bob in the water, arms making slow circles to keep me afloat. The sun’s rays dance off the ripples, creating little prisms of light. “What about you? Busy schedule as usual?”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Always. Your dad and I are finishing up a big project, but… some things can wait.” His gaze locks on mine again, and my stomach flips.
I open my mouth to respond, but words fail me. All I’m left with is this buzz of awareness, the knowledge that we’re alone, that there’s no one else around, that he’s looking at me in a way I’m not sure I can brush off as purely innocent. A thrill runs through my veins, followed by a sharp stab of guilt. Yet I can’t deny how I want him to keep looking at me like that.
He clears his throat. “Well, I should probably drop these papers inside,” he says after a moment, standing up. “It’s far too hot to be out here in these clothes.”
My mind swirls at the thought of him shedding those layers. I manage a tight smile. “Sure, go ahead. The back door’s open.”
Dane heads toward the sliding door, picking up the folder. He pauses and glances over his shoulder. “Don’t get too sunburned,” he teases, the corner of his mouth tilting into a slight smile.
I laugh lightly, but it comes out more breathy than I intend. “I’ll try not to. You should come in.”
His eyes lock on mine. “Maybe I will.” When he steps inside, I release the breath I’ve been holding. My heart thumps so loudly it nearly drowns out the buzz of the cicadas. One part of me wants to follow him, to see if the tension crackles even more in a confined space. Another part screams that this is insane. He’s older, my dad’s best friend, and definitely out of bounds. But the memory of his gaze tracing over my bikini-clad body is stamped in my mind, sending a flush of heat through me that has nothing to do with the sun.
Shaking my head, I paddle slowly to the other side of the pool. This is such dangerous territory. Yet I can’t stop the rush of excitement coursing through me. There’s a thrill in flirting with the line, even though common sense begs me to keep my distance.
I sigh and float on my back, letting the sunlight warm my face. A thousand questions jostle around in my head: Is this all in my imagination? Is he just being kind? Or is he looking at me the way I think he’s looking at me? And if he is, what on earth do I do about it?
The water cradles me, and I let my eyes drift shut, if only to keep from overthinking. For now, I’ll enjoy the pool and the hush of an empty house. Whatever this is, I’m going to have to figure it out fast—before I dive in over my head.