Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Zoe
The pool sparkles under the starlit sky, a secret oasis high above the bustling city. I stand at the edge, staring at the clear water as Max’s invitation to take an impromptu dare-swim hangs in the air between us.
“That’s the point,” Max says gently, stepping a bit closer. His eyes shine with warmth and sincerity. “Sometimes it’s good to step out of your comfort zone. But only if you want to. No pressure.”
I hesitate, looking down at the water and then back at him. Why am I even considering this? I promised myself and Max that I would do more unexpected, out-of-the-blue things. This is one of them. “Alright,” I finally say, my voice low and filled with nervousness. “But turn around while I get in.”
He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” He winks before spinning around.
As he turns away, I let out a shaky breath and start undressing. First, I slip off my black high heels, wincing as they clatter to the ground. So much for being stealthy. Next, I unbutton my white silk blouse with trembling fingers, revealing the lace trim of my camisole. I slide off my fitted navy pencil skirt, nearly losing my balance in the process.
Standing there in my lingerie, I hesitate. Should I keep it on? It’ll probably get ruined with all the chlorine. Black lace with weird spots is not a great look. But going completely bare is something I’ve never done before. This is crazy, isn’t it?
My heart races as I peel off the last of my clothing, the cool night air kissing my skin. With each layer I shed, I feel a heady mix of anxiety and exhilaration. I’m really doing this.
I, Zoe Isabella Harper, am going skinny dipping in a pool atop a very swanky apartment building in the middle of the city. Who am I, and what have I done with the real Zoe?
“After this, I should get a month’s break from daring to do something different,” I say out loud, my voice echoing slightly across the rooftop. I clamp my mouth, wondering if anyone can hear me and will come to check what’s happening.
“Fat chance, Harper,” Max says, his back still turned to me. “We’re doing daring things . . . challenging our inner-different-new-personas.”
“That’s not a thing, Maximillian,” I retort, rolling my eyes even though he can’t see me.
“Well, I’m making it a thing, and you can’t take it away from me,” he responds, because obviously Maximillian McCallister only cares about his rules. The infuriating man manages to sound smug with his back turned.
“Then I’ll dare you to do something new,” I declare, trying to sound confident. Obviously, I have no idea what that’ll be, but I’m determined to find something that’s impossible for Mr. Perfect to do.
“Okay,” he says without hesitation, so sure of himself. I envy that about him, even as it drives me crazy.
Taking a deep breath, I tiptoe to the edge of the pool, my bare feet slipping slightly on the smooth tiles. The water glistens invitingly, reflecting the city lights like a sea of stars. With one last glance at Max’s turned back, I slide into the pool, trying (and failing) to stifle a squeak as the cool water embraces my skin. My naked body glides beneath the surface, and I savor the clandestine thrill of a late-night swim au naturel.
It feels dangerous, new, and invigorating to do something so deliciously scandalous. The water caresses me like silk, and I move through it with newfound grace, feeling more alive than I have since . . . well, ever.
After a couple of laps, I emerge from the pool, the balmy night air kissing my damp skin. It’s exhilarating, like I’m the star of my own rom-com montage. I feel a rush of adrenaline mixed with a heady sense of freedom, and I can’t help but giggle softly to myself.
My eyes dart to Max’s shadowy figure leaning against the railing at the far end of the rooftop deck, his back still dutifully turned. He’s too far away to make out any details, and the pool is shrouded in enough darkness. There’s no way he can actually see anything . . . right?
I kick languidly, propelling myself toward the edge of the pool nearest him. “Enjoying the view?” I call out teasingly, channeling my inner femme fatale—and probably sounding more like a congested chipmunk.
Max glances over his shoulder. Even from a distance, I can feel his smirk. “The city lights are beautiful tonight. Among other things.”
My cheeks flush hotter than the summer asphalt at his flirtatious tone. Is he implying . . .? No, surely he can’t discern anything incriminating from way over there. The ripples distort everything below the surface . . . I think. I hope. Maybe?
Emboldened by the darkness—and possibly temporary insanity, I arch my back and float spread-eagled on the water’s obsidian face, reveling in the forbidden freedom of baring it all beneath the stars. My heart pounds against my rib cage like it’s trying to escape. This is reckless, daring . . . thrilling. What if he did catch an eyeful? The thought sends an illicit shiver down my spine.
A part of me wants to invite him in, to share this magical moment. But there’s so much implied in that invitation, isn’t there? Plus, I’d probably drown trying to form coherent words with a naked Max in close proximity.
“The water’s perfect,” I call out instead, my voice only slightly squeaky. “You’re missing out, you know.”
“Am I?” Max’s voice carries a hint of challenge. “Maybe I should join you then.”
Oh boy. What have I gotten myself into now?