Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Frankie
I emerged from the Holloways’ pool house—that was bigger than any house I’d ever lived in—and took in the swimming pool. Swimming pool was a misnomer. This was more like a freaking luxury water park. It looked like something out of a five-star resort. Clear turquoise-tinted water filled three separate pools. Surrounded by lush trees that hid them from the main house, the pools were lined with cabanas on one side and a row of white sun loungers on the other. On every cushioned surface sat neatly arranged beach towels and ice buckets with bottled water. But none of that made me gape more than the sight of the person standing at the steps to the first pool.
My mouth fell open at the sight of Finch standing casually beside the sandstone steps. I managed to school my expression before she saw me, thank God. She wore a bright blue and green sports bra with a neon zipper up the front and matching board shorts that landed mid-thigh. In this outfit, I got the full display of her tattoos. Two full sleeves covered her from knuckles to shoulders while whirling black swirls intertwined with flowers across her abdomen, and the tip of a tattooed dagger peeked from her thigh. She looked like a tatted-up surfer with tanned skin and a lean, muscular physique.
She’s mesmerizing , I thought, followed by an immediate: Yeah, there is no way I’m taking this sundress off.
“I don’t think I can do this.” I groaned aloud, staring beyond Finch to the deep water of the pool.
She appraised my dress as I approached her. “Well, I've found your first problem," she said. "You're still wearing clothes."
"I can swim in this," I said tentatively, wishing I could hide behind the cabana. I really hadn’t thought this through. Going swimming together was basically being naked together, and I was not ready to be naked in front of anyone let, alone someone as attractive as Finch.
Finch gave me an exasperated look. "Please tell me you have a bathing suit under that dress."
"I do."
She lifted both hands up. “Then take the dress off."
"I'm good, thanks.”
"Jesus, Goldilocks, I have never had such a hard time convincing a woman to take her clothes off in my life.”
"I believe that." I snorted. "Why are we doing this again?"
"So if you ever decide to jump off a yacht in the future, you won't have a panic attack," Finch reminded.
“That seems very unlikely.”
“Or if you fall in the water ever in the future,” she countered. “It’s important. Practicing is good.”
I still wasn’t compelled. “Maybe I should just steer clear of the water altogether.”
"You live on an island,” she deadpanned.
I pointed a finger to the sky. “Only for the summer."
"But you'll come back next summer, right?"
My head jerked back in surprise. "Do you want me to come back next summer?” I asked. "I mean, wouldn't it be complicated if we pretended to break up and then I was working here next year as your ex?” I tried to imagine what that would look like. “Would we have to pretend fight and things?”
"I don't think it would be weird," Finch said with a shrug. "I'm friends with lots of women I've hooked up with, and seeing as you and I have never actually been together, it'll be even easier."
"Okay . . . ,” I hedged. “But how would?—”
“Goldilocks, are you just trying to stall me?"
“Maybe."
Finch crossed her arms in a way that made her biceps even bigger, and my core clenched as I thought about being pinned down by those arms.
"You know, I have seen women in bathing suits before. I can control myself,” Finch said pointedly. "I promise not to ogle you."
Ogling wasn't what I was worried about.
Still, I gritted my teeth. "Get in the water and turn around."
"What kind of G-string, crotchless panty, spaghetti strap getup do you have on that you don't want me to see?"
"I'm wearing a sensible black one-piece," I said, bristling and tossing my hair over my shoulder. "Timeless, elegant."
"And you think I won't be able to contain myself if I see you in it?" Finch’s cheeks dimpled. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“I have no doubt.”
Realization dawned on her face, and it made me shrink an inch. "This is about that whole people liking your personality and settling for your body bullshit again, isn't it?"
"No," I said defensively. “I mean, Jake mentioned a few times that?—”
"I really want to punch a hole in Jake’s face, you know that?” Finch growled. “Fucking men! I can’t believe he’d tear you down like that and, worse, you believed him.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m just being self-aware.”
“This is the very opposite of that.” She shook her head, waving between us. “I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, Goldilocks, and honestly, I don’t mind telling you every damn day until you believe me, but your body is absolutely lovable exactly as it is.” She pinned me with a stern look until I nodded. “Now stop stalling and take your dress off."
It was the first time I’d really considered that maybe Jake wasn’t the most reliable person to believe about these things. The way Finch looked at me . . . How could two people have such differing opinions? And did either of those opinions even matter as much as my own?
I was all for body positivity. I’d seen women bigger than me, smaller than me, and every which size being absolute goddesses—with bodies I was personally infatuated with—but somehow I still couldn’t quite translate that into the way I felt about myself. Why could I see it for others but not for me? It was only now with Finch so glaringly pointing it out that I was beginning to realize the thoughts weren’t my own, that they were put there by society, the media, men, and most of all Jake. And I refused to let that bastard still have any control over me. With that anger now replacing my fear, I took a decisive step forward.
Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I whipped the dress over my head and chucked it on the sun chair beside me before quickly walking into the water.
"Oh look, a human body, how scandalous," Finch teased as she walked into the shallow end after me.
"Shut up," I shot back as I walked in to waist height. The water was cool and refreshing against my heated skin. "Okay, so now what?"
"How about we start with dunking your head underwater?" I took a giant step back and Finch guffawed. "Not me dunking you." She laughed. "Just you on your own."
"I don't want to put my head underwater."
Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?"
"Because water might go up my nose and then I might panic and forget which way is up and?—”
"And this is why we're practicing in the shallow end of the pool."
I nibbled the corner of my lip, watching the water like it might lurch up and attack me. “I don't know."
"Come on," Finch said, her hand swimming through the water and threading her fingers with mine. "We'll do it together. I promise by the end of the summer, you won't even be thinking about it anymore."
"Just a quick dunk,” I confirmed, pinning her with a look.
"Yep.” She gave me that carefree smile of hers, like everything was going to be alright, and I couldn’t help but believe her. “On three, okay?"
"Okay."
"One, two, three.” She started submerging herself, and for a split second I thought about remaining above the water, but her hand squeezed mine in reassurance and I decided to move.
I crouched down, submerging my face and then shooting back to a stand, frantically wiping the water out of my eyes.
"See?” Finch gave my hand another encouraging squeeze. "That was great. We'll just do that a few more times and you'll be Michael Phelps before you know it.”
"You are annoyingly supportive."
"I know.” Her dark eyes lit up. "I taught the twins and Wren how to swim. Although, those lessons were less patient and more me throwing them into the water."
I loved that cheeky smile she gave when she was being mischievous. How could someone be so sexy and playful all at once?
“Okay, well, don’t do that to me or I’ll fake break up with you,” I teased.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Goldilocks.”