And her legs. Jesus. That girl had long, long legs. I wondered what they’d look like in a skirt. Or tight jeans.
She was fearless and reckless, confronting a man four times her size. I pushed off the pool wall, did another lap, laughed as I remembered her driving over those garden gnomes, and choked on pool water.
When I got my breath back, I continued my lap.
Was it really a surprise that I was drawn to her? Most of the people in my life bottled everything up until their resentments and disappointments started to spill over, poisoning everything around them. And I knew a part of me turned out to be exactly like that. And I despised it.
And myself.
I reached the wall, pushed off, and did another lap. And another. And another.
* * *
After a quick shower, I quickly pulled on my black shirt and pants, hiked up my boots. Swinging my backpack over one shoulder, I grabbed my phone and headed out to the gym parking lot.
“Hey, cutie,” I heard a girl holler behind me. I kept walking.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath as a quick Google search of car repair shops in the city of Esther Falls produced more than a hundred. How was I supposed to find her?
I filtered my search to just the businesses around my area and narrowed it down considerably. Thinned it out some more by searching “family owned.” I figured since she personally came to collect the bill from Dingle Dick, her family probably owned the business. Maybe, maybe not.
Was I really going to search every damn shop to find her? What the hell was I doing?
I needed to get my bike fixed anyway, so it was killing two birds with one stone. I was being practical. No BFD.
The thought of my broken bike was starting to piss me off. I still had yet to call insurance, but that would make it too real and I wasn’t ready to deal. I needed to find out who did it. There would be hell to pay, I thought as I hopped in my company truck and drove to campus.
The temperature had dropped a little, so I cracked the window open to let the cool breeze inside. I turned the radio on and cranked up the volume.
I wondered what it would be like to have her in the truck with me. I had a picture of her standing up through the sunroof. The grin on my face felt stupid, but I really didn’t care.
I parked my truck, considered staying in it for a few minutes until lunch break was over. I didn’t like crowds and avoided them like the plague, but I was feeling thirsty after my workout and needed to hydrate.
I took the stairs two at a time, then turned the corner toward the cafeteria to get a drink. When I spotted the crowd in the hallway, I slowed down and didn’t bother hiding my annoyance. I’d rather have been somewhere else.
I dug in my backpack for my earphones and, when that took too long to find, gave up and kept walking. I wondered if Caleb was on campus now. I might not have given him a ride to school, but that guy could easily get any one of his girls to pick him up. He was usually in the hallway with the team or in one of the lounge areas with girls.
I scanned the hallway, looking for him. And froze. It was her—spitfire! I was about to do a double take when I felt someone pull my pants down from behind me. I caught the top of my pants just in time and whirled around.
“You fucking asshole,” I barked, watching as Caleb dissolved in laughter.
I punched him on the arm and turned back around. But she was gone.
I swear I saw her.
“Cheapo,” Caleb said. “Thanks for not picking me up. Appreciate it, bro.”
Was that really her, or was my mind playing tricks on me? Man, did I have it bad. I blew out a breath, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Who’re you looking for?” Caleb asked. He placed his hands in his pockets, leaning against the locker as he tilted his head and studied me. He usually did that when he was trying to figure out something.
I shrugged.
“Hmm. That’s an eight,” he said appreciatively as a blond passed by and smiled at him. Caleb had a thing for blonds.
We usually did this to pass the time, but I wasn’t in the mood for it today. Not when she was still in my head.
What the hell was happening to me?