Chapter 21 #2
Grey groans. The sound is so exaggerated that I look up at him. “The pity tour doesn’t count here, Princess. We’re going swimming tonight, and you’re gonna learn. I can’t stand that you’re living near water and can’t swim.”
“I’m never going to walk into the ocean if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I protest weakly, already knowing it’s a lost cause.
“I don’t care,” Grey retorts. “You could fall off a ferry or some shit with your luck.”
Misha and Oliver are chuckling in the background, clearly enjoying the show. I shoot them both a glare, which only seems to amuse them more.
“Do you at least have a swimsuit?” Grey asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I have a bikini somewhere,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing. I rack my brain, trying to remember where I stashed it. Probably in some forgotten drawer, gathering dust. I bought it when I got here, with the idea of having a beach day.
Yeah, that so did not happen.
“Right,” Grey declares, standing and pulling me with him. His hand is warm and firm around mine, and I try to ignore the little jolt of electricity that runs through me at his touch. “Time to figure out where you have it.”
We all file out of the office, and Misha pipes up, his grin laced with mirth, “Amelia Stanley, terror of the kiddie pool.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly relishing the thought of my impending embarrassment.
“Oh, shut up,” I grumble, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Despite my protests, there’s something oddly heartwarming about their determination to teach me.
Oliver joins in, “Maybe we should get her some floaties. You know, the ones with little duckies on them?” He mimes little duck wings with his hands, and I roll my eyes.
“I hate you all,” I mutter, but there’s no real heat behind it.
At the elevator, Grey turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if you don’t find that bikini, we could always go skinny dipping.”
“Grey Donovan,” I exclaim, scandalized but also secretly a little thrilled at the suggestion.
The elevator reaches the ground floor, and we spill out into the lobby, making our way to the front doors, where the city noise greets us—horns honking, people chatting, the usual urban symphony.
We cross the street and enter our building before piling into the next elevator, my nerves about actually swimming making the butterflies in my stomach come to life. I know they have me and won’t let me drown, but apparently my mind and body aren’t on the same page.
“We’ll meet you back here in a bit,” Grey says as we reach my floor.
The guys head to their place to grab swimwear while I make my way to my apartment.
Once inside, I rummage through my drawers until I find the white bikini.
I slip it on, and pull on a pair of shorts and T-shirt over it.
Then I twist my hair into a bun atop my head before grabbing a towel and heading out.
The guys are already waiting outside my door, and I can’t help but stare. They’re shirtless, wearing only their swim trunks, and they look absolutely lickable. I force my eyes away, noticing Grey has his laptop with him, and Oliver is holding a piece of paper.
“Why would we need that to go swimming?” I ask, bemused. “Want to show me tutorial videos?”
Oliver smirks. “We thought it might come in handy.”
As the elevator arrives and the doors slide open, we step inside, and my flutter of nerves mixes with excitement. Misha wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. “Ready to get wet?” he asks teasingly.
Oh God.
The warmth creeping up my cheeks tells me I’m blushing fiercely, and Misha notices, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Bug. I like where your thoughts were just headed.”
“Very funny,” I retort, nudging him playfully.
Grey smirks. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered. If you start to flail, I promise to be right there to save you.”
“And I’ll make sure you don’t sink,” Oliver adds. “But only if you promise not to splash too much.”
“I’ll try,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “But no promises.”
Misha’s hand slips down to hold mine, his thumb brushing over my wrist in a comforting gesture. He squeezes my hand gently as the elevator dings, and he guides me toward the pool entry.
Oliver opens the door and ushers us in before stopping to stick the paper on it. I peer at it and laugh when I see ‘CLOSED’ written in bold letters.
Oliver grins. “It’s rare that somebody’s here, but just to make sure.”
Misha does a quick sweep of the area and confirms we’re alone. Then Grey sits down, balancing his laptop on his knees, and starts typing. Suddenly, I hear a click. Confused, I try the door.
It’s locked.
“You guys are nuts,” I mutter.
Grey just shrugs. “Wanting to have privacy isn’t nuts. You think I swim in the same pool as some random from work?”
Oliver points out, “Random may have already swum in the pool we’re now getting in.”
“Don’t ruin it,” Grey retorts, and I shake my head at their antics.
We kick off our shoes, and Misha hollers as he cannonballs into the pool, sending a wave of water splashing over us. I can’t help but let out a loud squeal of surprise, shaking the droplets from my skin while a wide grin spreads across my face.
Oliver, looking endearingly out of place, lowers himself into the water with a slight shiver, attempting to adjust his glasses even though they’re not on his face.
He catches my gaze, squinting, and I don’t know if it’s because he can’t see well or if it’s because I caught him and he’s daring me to say something.
I only giggle to myself, shaking my head.
Grey, who’s been watching the whole scene with an amused smirk, finally sets his laptop aside and dives in with surprising grace. The splash that follows sends more water cascading over the edge.
I shriek again, this time more from laughter than surprise, as he surfaces with a triumphant splash. “Show-off!”
I shed my T-shirt and shorts, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me as I stand there in just my white bikini. My glasses come off next, and I carefully set them on my folded clothes. The guys’ appreciative gazes make my cheeks flush crimson, and I instinctively cover my belly with my hands.
This is the first time they see that much of me when my mind has not been in a foggy haze of lust, and my already lacking confidence is gone.
Grey’s voice cuts through my nervous thoughts, a low, teasing chide. “Ah-ah, Amelia. Show us that beautiful body. I want to see every freckle on that perfect skin.”
My cheeks burn even hotter, and I can’t help but fidget, my hands trembling slightly as I lower them. Each step toward the ladder feels like an eternity, and the sound of splashing and laughter from the guys amplifies my nerves.
Oliver, noticing my hesitation, meets me at the ladder with a reassuring smile.
His hands are gentle as he helps me into the water, his touch steady and comforting under my arms. I glance around at the guys, trying to gauge their reactions and keep my nerves in check, but their warm smiles and relaxed demeanor slowly ease my anxiety.
“Put your legs around my waist,” Oliver instructs softly.
I could probably stand, but I comply willingly, wrapping my legs around him and clinging to his shoulders. The water laps at my skin, cool and inviting, and I feel surprisingly secure in his arms.
He won’t let me drown.
In the shallow water.
Grey comes to stand beside us and begins explaining swimming techniques, demonstrating strokes and breathing. I listen intently, watching his muscular form glide through the water with ease. When he finishes, he turns to me with a grin. “Your turn, Princess.”
I pout, tightening my grip on Oliver. “Can’t I just stay here?”
Oliver chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest. “As much as I’d love that, you should give it a try.”
“Fine.”
Grey swims over, his hands replacing Oliver’s as he supports me on my belly. “Come on, show us what you’ve learned.”
Misha pipes up from the side of the pool, “Yeah, show us your best impression of a drowning Bug!”
I splash water in his direction, laughing despite myself. “You tit!”
As I attempt to mimic Grey’s movements, Misha continues his commentary. “Surely, it helps having the longest legs, even if you don’t know how to use them.”
I giggle and shoot a mock glare his way as I kick a bit too enthusiastically. “Keep it up, and I’m nominating you as the next pool float,” I retort, causing Grey to chuckle softly while adjusting my arms. “Focus on your form, not him.”
I take a deep breath, my body relaxing in Grey’s strong hands. Starting to get the hang of it, I feel a sense of accomplishment, and when Grey takes his hands off me, and I swim over to Oliver without looking like the aforementioned drowning bug, I’m so fucking happy.
Standing a bit wobbly next to Oliver, I catch my breath and try to control the triumphant smile threatening to split my face.
Grey swims over, his grin broad and encouraging. “You did really good,” he praises. “A few more times, and you’ll be able to survive the ferry accident.”
“Thank you for showing me.” I can’t resist the wave of exhaustion mixed with relief as I step forward to hug him.
My arms wrap around his neck, and I let my chin rest on his shoulder.
“God, I’m tired,” I admit, my words muffled against his skin.
“I think I’ll just sit on the pool edge and watch you guys.
You can loosen up your muscles without me,” I say, trying to pull away, but Grey’s arms tighten around me, keeping me close.
“No, I need you right here,” he insists softly, his hands moving to my thighs, anchoring me against him.
I link my legs around his waist and let myself melt a little more against his shoulder, watching the water ripple quietly around us. Grey’s fingers begin a gentle exploration, tracing soothing lines over my skin underwater.
“How about we order some Chinese food? I could eat a horse right now,” Oliver suggests.