Chapter 19
Chance
Danni’s standing by the table looking a little uncertain in her loose-fitting floral dress that ends mid-thigh. The curves of her legs go on for miles.
I had to get away from her. That’s why I left the theater room and came out here for a swim. The second she walked in, something happened inside me. Is this how my sister felt when she first saw Erish? Or am I objectifying her? I don’t want it to be the latter. That’s why I came out here for some alone time. To sort it out. And now she’s here, looking at me innocently yet challengingly, like she’s ready to write me off if I say or do the wrong thing.
I don’t normally walk on eggshells around people. I say it like I think. But with Danni, I want to be careful. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
“Then why don’t you join me? Did you bring your swimsuit?”
“I’m wearing it.”
“Come on, then. The water is nice.”
“And haunted.”
I swim over to her and rest my forearms on the pool deck. “Huh?”
“The pool is haunted. You didn’t know that?”
“How can a pool be haunted?”
“Ask the skeletons they found when they dug the pool.”
Not cool. I’ve seen Poltergeist . I leap out of the water faster than a car at the Indianapolis 500. Behind me, Danni laughs. I give my heart a moment to slow down before angling my body toward her. “They found bodies!?”
Danni grabs the bottom of her dress and pulls it over her head. My heart revs up again when I see her in her one-piece. It’s for function not leisure, the kind competitive swimmers wear, but her hourglass shape refuses to go unnoticed.
“They found two skeletons and had to respectfully relocate them,” she says.
“Oh, we’re good, then,” I say with sarcasm.
“Yeah. So, I think I’ll stick to the hot tub.”
She kicks off her sandals and heads over to the whirlpool that’s bordered on one side by towering rocks, complete with a mini waterfall.
Should I join her, or should I stay here? Should I join her, or should I stay here?
“You coming?” she asks.
Risk of cracking eggshells averted. For now.
The whirlpool matches the vibe of the house: big. It could probably seat twelve people. I choose a spot opposite her and slide into the lukewarm water. Bubbles hide most of Danni’s body, stopping just below her shoulders.
“What if they found the skeletons over here?” I ask.
Danni’s eyes widen.
“They found them under the pool. Definitely under the pool. I didn’t notice anything weird when I was swimming though, so I think it’s safe.”
Danni looks skeptical. “If you say so.”
The rumble of the jets fills the lull in our conversation. Danni flutters her hands through the bubbles while I rest my head and look at the twilight sky.
“Why aren’t you watching the show?” Danni asks.
I shift my focus back to her. “I don’t like time-traveling werewolf space cowboys, remember?”
I also don’t like objectifying females and I’m still not sure if that’s what’s happening here. Whenever our eyes meet, I feel a sizzle, much more intense than the zing my sister said I’d feel when I found “the one.”
“Right,” Danni says. “You’re into cowboys, just not shapeshifting cowboys.”
“I’m not into cowboys. I like things related to cowboys.”
“Like the music.”
“And the shoes, and the hats, and the boots. And the belt buckles and the food–”
“And the freedom.”
“Yeah. I guess. That too.”
“You need a lot of room to cast your wide net.”
Oh yeah, Danni didn’t realize that was a joke. “I was just–”
“How’s it going for you, by the way?”
“There was never any net. I was messing with you.”
“So how is it going?” She locks eyes with me like she’s daring me to look away, like she has Vulcan mind meld powers without the touching. She doesn’t have to try so hard. I don’t want to look away.
“It’s…going,” I answer.
“That’s it?”
I’m in a whirlpool with a beautiful woman, who is in my JustInCase file but didn’t even warrant a callback. Maybe my methods are flawed. Or maybe they just need a little improvement. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult.”
Danni’s chin drops to the waterline. “You? Difficult? No!”
Fair. I’ve been called hard-headed before. Mostly by family members. “I like that you take a hands-off approach.”
An awkward laugh spills out of Danni’s mouth.
“It shows me you’re willing to trust your coders,” I add.
Danni purses her lips and looks at me sidelong. “Did you really give me a choice? I couldn’t even get you to use BrainyJ.”
“BrainyJ is for newbs. It adds–”
“Cruft,” we say in unison.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “I said I’m sorry for being difficult. You should try Visual Studio Code. It’s freeing.”
“Like a dude ranch in Montana.”
“Exactly.”
She plays in the bubbles some more, cupping them in her hands and letting them flow through her fingers.
“I could show you around,” I say.
“Where?”
“My dude ranch.”
Danni looks shocked and amused. Mostly shocked. I guess she thought I was trying to be romantic. I just meant I’d show her my Visual Studio Code setup.
“Um…no thanks.” She leans forward and stands, the water trickling down her contours, tempting my eyes to follow. “I think I’ll brave the pool.”
Danni
I’m not sure what Chance meant by showing me his dude ranch, and I’m not sure I don’t want to see whatever it is. I had to get out of the bubbles. They were like tiny hands exploring my… What’s the opposite of dude? Nope. These thoughts need a thorough washing in chlorinated pool water.
I plunge headfirst into the deep end. My silly feelings for Chance are so beyond professional. I shouldn’t have come out here.
“Care if I join you?” Chance asks. He’s sitting on the side of the pool, the water up to his sculpted shins. What exercise makes shins grow muscles?
I dive under to let the cool water soothe the heat in my cheeks. When I reach the shallow end, I emerge and say, “Sure.” Which could be taken two ways, so I clarify. “Sure, get in.” And I’ll stay over here, and you stay over there.
He swims to me, a confident breaststroke with his head above water. Mercifully, he crouches so I can’t see his muscles. I don’t think I could handle them right now.
“You swim like a fish,” he says.
“I was on the middle school swim team.”
He seems impressed, but adds, “Why not high school?”
“They make you get up at five in the morning. And swimming is hard.”
“You make it look easy.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
I launch off the bottom and float on my back toward the center of the pool. My ears fill with water, prohibiting conversation. Because the more we talk, the more I wonder about his dude ranch.
He joins me and we both float lazily, enjoying the purple hue of the evening sky that’s dotted here and there with stars. They’ll never reach their full potential because of Charleston’s light pollution.
My hand flutters against Chance’s arm. The contact nearly electrocutes me. It’s not safe to play with appliances in water, so what am I doing here? Chance isn’t an appliance, Danni. I think my brain is scrambled.
I pop up and swim to the deep end, finding respite against the wall. Chance follows me like a dutiful puppy. I stay focused on the stars as he settles beside me.
We’re quiet for a moment, gazing upward, our slow breathing accompanied by the sounds of water lapping against the pool tiles and insects warming up for a night of singing.
“I wonder what the stars would look like without the light pollution?” I ask.
“Magnificent,” Chance replies.
I glance at him. “You’ve seen it?”
“My dad and I took a fifteen-day motorbike tour in Himachal Pradesh. We drove the Spiti Circuit through the Himalayas, stayed in tents without proper bathrooms or cell service.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“I almost died a few times, but other than that it was amazing. You should go to the middle of nowhere sometime and look up, preferably during the night. Otherwise, it won’t work.” His face and lips are glistening with water.
“I don’t think I’m that brave.”
“You don’t have to bike through mountains. You could go out west, or up to Alaska. Then you might see the northern lights. Bonus.”
“I might be able to handle an Alaskan cruise.”
We fall silent again, enjoying the cool water against the hot night. Chance pushes off and then glides back to me, only his head out of the water.
“Do you miss India?”
He grabs the wall again. “Yes. But when I was in India, I missed America. It’s a lose-lose.”
“Or a win-win. You have two home countries.”
“But no matter where I go, a piece of me is missing.” His eyes track mine, refusing to let go.
Another electric jolt passes through me, quickens my breaths. His eyes are speaking volumes. I don’t need a translator.
“You wanna race?” he says.
Not where I expected this to go. “Here? Now?”
“Down and back. The winner wins.”
“That’s it? No trophy?”
“The thrill of victory is enough, isn’t it?”
I welcome the excuse to bury my face in the water, an opportunity to burn off the excess energy vibrating down my arms and through my fingertips. “All right.” I grab the edge and plant my feet on the wall.
Chance does the same. “You say when.”
“When.”
We both take off, churning through water, sending bubbles left and right. I peek to get my bearings and then squeeze my eyes shut again. Power emanates from Chance as he pushes handfuls of water behind him.
At the wall, we’re neck and neck. We do open turns and push off for lap two, making more waves as we muscle to the finish. My hand touches the wall before his. Our heads emerge and we suck in air.
“You let me win,” I say, panting. Chance sinks next to me and grins.
“I would never do that.” He’s out of breath too. At least he had to exert himself a little. “You’re a fish, Danni.”
The way he says my name. It’s like sipping on sweet wine. I want more, but I should stop at one glass. “I’m not swimming into your capture thingie.”
I meant it as a joke, but Chance is serious. The air thickens as he wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. Before my rational mind can stop him, he presses his lips onto mine, wet with cool water, plump from exertion, his tongue velvety soft. This must be my trophy. I claim it readily as the water holds our bodies in suspension.
Afterward, we look at each other in stunned silence. Water drips from his hair, beads down his cheeks, and as I watch it descend, my rational mind sputters awake.
“I’m sorry,” Chance says.
Sorry for what? The best kiss of my life?! My mind is screaming it, but my mouth won’t move. I take a few deep breaths to flood my brain with oxygen. So I can start straightening my tangled thoughts. I was not supposed to kiss Chance. I want to kiss Chance again . Multiple systems overload. Rational Danni pushes the panic button, and it’s the jolt my muscles need to spring into action.
“I…gotta go.”
I hoist myself out of the pool and wander, dazed, to the table where my dress and my uneaten plate of food are waiting. I don’t have a towel.
I’m dripping wet and I don’t have a towel.
“Danni.”
Oh no, you don’t. Don’t go saying my name. I’ve already had enough of your wine. I don’t need any more.
I throw on my dress, grab my plate, and set my sights on the open doorway, dripping while I trip over a lounge chair and nearly fall on my face.
“I’m okay,” I say, not daring a glance at shirtless Chance, with his wet hair and his wet muscles and his wet kiss. Is this what dying feels like? If so, I love it. I mean, I hate it.
Chance is my coworker. And he’s a player! What was I thinking ?
I stumble back to the theater room, find my keys and my phone while Morgan and Kayla ask why I’m so wet. I mumble something about avoiding the pool because it causes otherworldly possession, and then I duck out, relaxing only when I’m in my car, alone, still alive. Barely.