Free Just For Now (A Flirting With Trouble Novel) by Annie Kelly Page B

guy.
    He’s swimming laps, I realize. Back and forth along the lanes painted on the bottom of the pool. We don’t have actual ropes or formed lanes like at private pools, but you’re still able to maintain something remotely athletic.
    I start to inch forward, perplexed. The average person who breaks and enters probably isn’t the lap-swimming type. Which is when I notice the pile of clothes on one side of the pool, the black Converse sneakers piled on top of blue jeans and an orange BYC polo shirt. The realization blooms over me just as the dark head resurfaces.
    The person in the pool is Owen. My boss, Owen, is half-naked and wet, sliding through the water with graceful strokes.
    I open my mouth to say something aloud, then snap it shut. Owen—again, Owen, my boss—presses his hands against the edge of the pool and, with a grace I’ve certainly never had, pushes up out of the pool. The water sluices down his body and I almost swallow my damn tongue.
    I’m standing there in my suit—shoeless, towel-less, and staring—when Owen glances up and sees me. For a long second we both just freeze, looking at one another in complete surprise.
    Then a smile—the kind that’s a force of nature—spreads out over Owen’s face. And something deep inside me begins to melt.
    “You caught me,” he says, reaching around to rub a hand over his hair self-consciously.
    “Caught you?” I ask dumbly. He nods.
    “I figured it would be a good way to start getting some exercise. I hope that’s not totally weird.”
    I shake my head, trying to give him an answer that isn’t just staring at him with my tongue lolling out of my mouth.
    “Not weird,” I finally say. Apparently I’m limited to two-word answers tonight.
    He glances back at the water, then over at me.
    “So, do you want to join me?”
    I close my eyes briefly. I know this is a bad idea. I’m absolutely sure of it. And that doesn’t stop me from nodding and moving toward him.
    I need this moment of reckless abandon.
    I need to make a terrible decision and live to regret it.
    I need to feel alive.
    “Absolutely,” I finally say. Then I dive into the water without looking back.

Chapter Eight
    “You’re good.”
    Owen grins at me as he swims past. I quirk a brow.
    “Good at what?”
    He turns in the water. “Swimming.”
    He’s got the smooth, even, extended strokes of someone with obvious experience. I tread water as I watch him.
    “Not nearly as good as you are. Swim team?”
    He gives a shrug as he turns back to face me. “Yeah, in high school. And college.”
    I nod. “It shows.”
    “Well, I was never great at competitive team sports and I hated shit like golf and tennis, so I tried swimming as a freshman and I loved it.”
    I push out away from the side and do an improvised freestyle in a circle around him.
    “I only ever did theatre in high school. Well, and cheerleading.”
    Owen chuckles as he reaches the side of the pool. He backs up against the wall and leans back, propping both of his elbows up on the edge.
    “A cheerleader, huh? Were you a base or a flyer?”
    I tilt my head in curiosity. “You know cheerleading terminology?”
    He grins. “My little sister was competitive. She actually works at a dance studio now and she credits her cheerleading for her skills.”
    “Wow, that’s awesome.”
    I come over to the other side of him and press my front up against the side of the pool, suddenly reminded of how revealing this non-revealing suit ended up becoming on my body.
    “So, base or flyer?” he asks again.
    “Base,” I say. “But I liked the dancing best. The tumbling and stuff was what I lived for. When I got my back handspring mastered, I felt like a rock star.”
    He nods. “That’s what Beth—my little sister—that’s what she says, too. She loved the athletics and the gymnastics of the entire thing.”
    I cross my arms and lay my head down on them, looking at Owen. Something about the pool and the water makes him look