Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“Um, hell no I won’t stop it. Not with that tall glass of yes please walking around.”
She nods back over my shoulder, and when I see her blush and Brynn’s eyes go wide as she rakes her teeth over her bottom lip, I cave. Again. I turn to glance over my shoulder, and again, my whole body tingles, my core tightening as my eyes drink him in.
Coach Kirby is yelling at some of the guys from the men’s team, trying to get them to remember form during the relay practice. He paces the far side of the massive indoor pool, both arms clasped behind his head, which just has the effect of making every single rippling muscle in his chiseled, perfect body tighten and clench. He jumps into the pool again, showing Tyler Powell the hand-off move he’s been yelling at them about before he turns and easily pulls himself out of the pool again. Water cascades down his perfect body, and down over his black, skin-tight bathing—
My face burns hot, and my eyes go a little wider. And when the other two girls with me go silent, I know I’m not the only one seeing what I’m seeing.
He’s wearing a regulation suit, which means it’s got netting on the inside to prevent things from being, well, too revealing when soaking wet nylon sticks to and molds around whatever is under it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t see… well…
It.
The very large, very defined, very much sending shivers of heat through my core bulge in the front of Coach Kirby’s suit.
Brynn quietly clears her throat.
“I mean, do you think it slows him down? Like, creates unnecessary water drag?”
I groan, rolling my eyes as she and Sasha giggle.
“No, girl, it’s like the keel of a sailboat, it helps with drag.”
Oh my God.
“Maybe it’s ballast?” Waverly grins, sending Sasha into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, you guys, stop,” I groan, blushing wildly.
Sasha grins at me before glancing at Brynn.
“Yeah, Brynn, stop it. You’re making the virgin uncomfortable.”
I groan, giving her a look. “I mean, I wasn’t until you boiled down my entire persona to my lack of sexual history?”
She snorts. “Okay, some advice?”
“I’m actually good, but I’m sure you’re—”
“I’m going to tell yon anyways.”
I groan, even when Brynn shoot me a sympathetic look.
“So, the words ‘sexual history’ should be dropped from your go-to dating talk words, okay?”
“Yeah, noted, thanks.”
“This might be why your Sparkr date no-showed last night, by the way.”
“Brynn’s in the v-card club too, you know,” I grumble. “How come you’re not giving her a hard time?”
Our blonde friend giggles. “Because I’m not on freaking Sparkr trying to lose it to a stranger.”
“He wasn’t a stranger, okay?” I mutter.
“Oh, and what’s his name then?”
I glare at Sasha as she grins triumphantly at me.
“Oh, that’s right, you guys only know each other through your dumb screen names, don’t you?”
Not exactly. Not anymore.
“That’s sort of the point of the Sparkr app, you know,” I throw back. “Anonymity? You know you can’t be too careful out there these days.”
Sasha rolls her eyes. “Right, which is why you went out all dolled up to some bar three towns away to meet a man who’s name you don’t know, who, oh, right, you’ve been texting for all of one week. Which has comprised of what again? Deep thoughts on the universe? Personal details? No?”
I glare at her.
“Remind me to never confide in you again.”
She grins. “Oh right! Your texting has literally just been sexting, where you sent this stranger fucking nudes for the last week? So, yeah, way to be safe out there, Waverly.”
Brynn gives me a sympathetic look as she stretches over to squeeze my hand.
“Hey, she was safe.”
“Yeah, because creepy stranger was a no-show,” Sasha throws back.
Which is a lie. Well, that last part is at least. I swallow, trying to keep the heat from my cheeks.
The thing is, my friends are only getting half the story. Yes, after I turned eighteen two weeks ago, I opened a Sparkr account. Big deal, okay? And I only did it because of Sasha’s incessant needling about my love life, or rather, my lack there-of. It’s not like she’s this big player-type either, but she’s at least getting laid. Sasha’s been with the same guy—Charlie—since they were like fourteen. He goes to a different boarding school up in Connecticut, but when he visits, let’s just say Sasha having scored a single room in the dorms comes in quite handy. I have zero idea how she hasn’t been caught, but that’s another story entirely.
So, it’s partly Sasha, but also partly this dumb thing from the internet. See, swimming is my life, and I do mean my whole life. I’ve been in the water since I was three, and it’s been a struggle to get me out of a pool ever since. And if I can toot my own horn, I’m pretty freaking good now that I’m a senior varsity swimmer. I’ve broken five regional time records in the last year—one of them my own record—and three state records, and Winchester is looking great for a regional championship this year. I’ve been accepted to Cornell for college next year, but there’s been some talk of deferring a year or two to pursue the professional or even Olympic track and see how I do.