Knocked up by the Mechanic

I guess if I was being honest with myself, I kind of sort of wanted Wyatt to think I looked good too. Everybody thought Gianna was hot, that was a given, and I’d walked in her shadow for years. I didn’t envy her the catcalls or the constant attention, but for some reason, I wanted the quiet and serious Wyatt to think I looked sexy in my swimming suit, even if I was standing next to Wexler’s own Pamela Lee Anderson. I grabbed my wrap and my sunglass and my big floppy straw hat, a tube of suntan lotion and a can cold soda. When I got to the sun chairs, Gianna was having one of the pool guys rub tanning oil on her enhanced ass cheeks. I looked at her and mouthed, what the fuck? She shrugged and looked smug. I could see the guys massive boner through his dark blue pool company zip up.

“How was the pool house?” Gianna asked me lifting her shades.

“Groovy,” I said. I grabbed a paperback from the pile I’d tossed on the table and took a chair next to Alexandra.

“My dad would flip out if he were here to deal with Gianna’s antics,” I said to Alex.

“She’ll blow them both by 2:30, get them to take a thousand pictures of her for her stories, and then call Adam to pick her up and take her for Sushi before he drops her at home.”

“Poor Adam,” I said.

“They both get what they want out of the relationship,” Alex shrugged.

I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked over at the cooling unit. There was no Wyatt in sight. He must have gone back to the garage to check and see if it worked. I leaned back and cracked open a book, then sat up just as fast and adjusted the umbrella to put myself in full shade. It was a scorcher today and the sun wasn’t letting up any time soon.

“Did Wyatt go back through the house?” I asked Gianna. She had her hand on one of the guys erections through his work clothes, she slid it off with a sly smile when I caught her red-handed.

“He’s in the pool house getting changed, guess he decided to join us after all,” she cooed.

“Seriously?” I said. Maybe the heat had finally gotten to him. Wyatt was usually reserved and didn’t mingle with anybody, and certainly not Wexler’s upper class, when it came to the elite, Wyatt had a chip on his shoulder.

“Speak of the very fuckable devil,” Gianna said. She’d moved her sunglasses to her head.

I craned my neck to see Wyatt coming out of the pool house. He was wearing the same work clothes form earlier, not to mention his shoes. It didn’t look like he was ready to go for a dip at all. His brow was furrowed and he marched past us refusing to look up.

“It’s gorgeous in there, isn’t it?” Gianna asked him.

Wyatt turned his head and looked like he was about to give her a piece of his mind. I hopped up from my chair quickly hoping to intervene in their petty fight.

“Could you not find a suit that fit? I know you’re taller than Stefano, but he’s got a bunch in there for guests, too. Would you like me to look with you?” I asked him eagerly.

Wyatt looked at me and the ice he usually held in his eyes seemed to melt. His gaze held mine and there was something almost akin to pain playing in his eyes.

“You can swim in your work shorts, too,” I almost whispered. “You don’t have to change.”

“How come this fucker gets to swim and nobody invites us?” one of the pool boys piped up.

“Quit your fucking complaining,” Gianna snapped at the one who’d asked.

“Wyatt works for the house,” Alexandra explained. “He’s been here for years and knows the family,” she told them.

Wyatt worked his fingers through his hair like he was fed up with life itself.

“Might as well,” I told him. “Why are you gonna torture yourself in this heat?”

“It’s not the heat, I’m worried about,” he said curtly.

Wyatt toed off his shoes and it seemed we all held a collective breath. He yanked his socks off and then went for his fly. I didn’t want to be rude, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He tore off his shorts like he was angry at them and underneath revealed a pair of black boxer briefs. Wyatt Dunne looked like an underwear model, albeit an angry one, and charged to the edge of the pool.

“Holy fuck,” Gianna whispered as she looked at me. Her face wore an expression of delighted amazement. She grabbed her phone, of course, and began live filming Wyatt’s ass as he stalked to the pool.

Without taking a breath, he dove into the deep end and streamed at least half the length underwater. When he came up, his hair was slicked back and he gasped for air as water streamed off of him. Gianna was standing by the edge clapping for him, while Alexandra and I remained quiet.