Not Yet (3 page)

The group laughed and continued talking quietly as I
walked around the pool. I blew my whistle to signal the guards to
change positions and hung back until they were settled. As I headed
to the guard house, the guy who had spoken about me before called
me over.

“Hey, doll, what’s your name?” He sat back, leering
at me while drinking his scotch. Wasn’t it a little early for a
drink like that?

I was intent on being polite. I really didn’t need to
piss off the members on my first day. “Emma Harris, sir.”

“Emma, Emma, Emma. How’d you like to have some fun
this summer?” The old guy slurred his words and I tensed.

There was that ‘fun’ word. I’m not considered a
fun
girl. I know this. My college roommate, Ashley,
nicknamed me
Bitter & Boring
because she liked to
imagine these ugly pessimistic twins inside me, always winning over
any positivity or good times. I don’t know… I found
Bitter &
Boring
quite witty and entertaining.

Did I have a sign on my forehead?
This Girl Is In
Need Of A Fun Time
. Jesus! Old guy gave me a lopsided grin,
while he rubbed his thigh. My good buddy
Bitter
was waving a
red flag wildly. We both knew no good could come from talking with
an overweight, middle aged man with a penchant for drinking hard
liquor in the middle of the day.

“No, thank you, sir—that would be against club
policy.” I started to walk away when he jumped from his chair and
grabbed my forearm. His other arm reached over to massage my ass
and the young mom behind me gasped.

I tried to move away, but he pulled me closer. “Where
do you think you’re going, doll?”

Quickly, a large hand wrapped over his shoulder and I
looked up to see Landon with a fierce expression on his face.
“That’s enough, Mr. Wright. Please let go of Emma. She needs to go
check on the pumps.” I took my opportunity and pulled away as Mr.
Wright went stumbling into Landon. Mr. Wright was not a little man,
easily pushing two hundred and fifty lbs., but Landon stood like a
brick wall, not even flinching as Wright tried to push him
away.

What happened next was so quick I almost missed it.
As Wright lunged at Landon, Landon stepped to the side, causing
Wright to topple head first into the pool. He was in the deep end,
so there was no chance of a head injury, and Landon and I watched
and waited for him come up for air.

Except, he didn’t.

Instead, he panicked and flailed under the water,
disoriented. Before I could even react, Landon was in the water
behind Wright. Landon quickly hooked his arms underneath Wright’s
and towed him to the side of the pool. I helped pull Wright out of
the water as he choked and gasped for air.

His friends helped Wright to his feet, and, looking
mortified, he denied emergency services and left the pool area
quickly and quietly. Landon handed me a towel, and we headed to the
guard house.

Life Lesson: Drunk middle aged men suck.

Landon looked at me with concern. “Are you okay,
Emma?”

I tried to contain myself, but I couldn’t help it. I
burst out laughing. “That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a
long time. Talk about getting what you deserve. That was awesome!”
I wiped at my eyes, wet from my excessive snickering, and sat down
on the couch.

Landon chuckled too, and pulled a water bottle from
his bag. “It was pretty funny. I just want to make sure you’re
okay.”

“What I’m not okay with is how a jerk like that is
still a member here? I don’t know much about country clubs, but I
wouldn’t think they tolerate behavior like that.”

“I hear you. Wright acts up all the time, and they
can’t get rid of him. His Grandaddy started the place and now
Wright’s on the board. They’ll fine him for this incident, like
they have for many others, but he’s rich as shit. Doesn’t stop
him.” My look of disgust must have amused Landon, as he winked his
agreement before taking a long drink of water.

“You’d better prepare yourself,” he continued,
sitting on the sofa. “This club hasn’t had a lifeguard that looks
like you in, well, as long as I’ve worked here. The drunk old men,
drunk young men, and all the teenage boys will be after you.”

My brow furrowed as I drank my can of pop. “What do
you mean?”

“Emma, how old are you? I’d think you’re old enough
to be aware of how attractive you are. You look like a model. I
mean, except for the fact that you’re way too short.” He winked at
me again when I scowled at his comment. “You’re gorgeous—and you
know it. These guys can’t get it up at home, but when they see
you—well… it’s on.”

I cleared my throat. I was anything but a model, and
I didn’t appreciate being objectified. At five-foot-three, I was on
the short side, but I worked out, so I had a decent figure. But
that was it. “I’m twenty-one. How old are you?”

Landon smiled coyly, no doubt happy for his own
attention. “Nineteen. Going into my sophomore year at Indiana
University. Where are you in school?”

“I graduated early from the University of Virginia.”
I looked down, not wanting to get into my personal details.

“Why the hell would
anyone
leave college
early? They are the best years of our lives, right?” He chuckled
smugly as he continued, “I mean, I know it’s the ACC, but it’s not
that bad!”

I stood up, needing to signal the next shift change
and met his gaze with angry irritation. “It’s not the best time for
all of us. Not all of us have Daddy to fall back on while we party
through college. Some people have bigger problems.”

With that I tore out of the room. I spent the rest of
the weekend making sure no more drunk assholes fell into the pool,
and avoiding Landon.

Correction... Let’s rephrase that one.

***

ONE OF THE perks of working at the Country Club
of Avon was free use of its gym in the clubhouse before the pool
opened. I was running on the treadmill, listening to Justin
Timberlake on my iPhone, when Landon walked in.

Without a shirt.
Holy crap.

He nodded at me and straddled the weight bench. I
watched him in the mirror as I ran and was captivated by the focus
and intensity he put into lifting weights. No wonder he was
chiseled like a Greek sculpture.

Landon was a grunter. Normally this turned my
stomach; I was always convinced it was for show and to try and get
us girls in the gym to think the guy lifting was badass when he was
clearly not. But in this case, I truly thought it couldn’t be
helped. He wasn’t showing off; he was pushing himself to the
absolute limit. His body began to shake as he finished the
repetitions and sweat rolled down his chest.

Did he grunt like that during sex? Would his arms
shake after holding himself up? It would be after going at it for a
long, long time because, come on, a guy like that had to have some
stamina. I licked my lips subconsciously and closed my eyes for a
moment. Why in the hell was I thinking that?

Shit
. I tripped and almost fell off the
treadmill. Stupid Emma.

A loud guttural sound, a cross between the mating
call of a hump back whale and a terrified cow, escaped from deep in
my lungs before I had a chance to stop it. Horrified, I slapped my
hand across my, now gaping, mouth.

Shut up
. Dear God, what idiot runs with their
damn eyes closed? A quiet chuckle came from behind me and I
stiffened. Great. He heard me and probably saw me. Did he think I
was watching him? Thinking about him? Tripping because the mere
sight of him caused me to become unbalanced? If so, he’d be right.
I shook my head and forced myself to focus.

Finishing my run, I mopped off my sweat, drank from
my water bottle, and tried to ignore the nervous energy pulsing
through me. I wanted to slap myself. I was having a physical
reaction to just being near him. My traitorous, stupid damn body
was horny!

What was wrong with me? It wasn’t the first time I’d
been around a cute guy. They never got to me or made me feel unsure
of my desires or excited in any way. But, being in a small, hot
space with Landon had me completely off-kilter.

It had to be sexual frustration. That was the only
possible explanation for my lack of sanity. It had been a wicked
long time since I’d been touched by a guy. I attempted to stop
essentially eye-fucking this guy, who was basically a stranger to
me, and get my lustful thoughts under control.

“Hi there, short stuff. Mind if I join you?” Landon
sat next to me on the mat. Beads of sweat clung to him like even
the sweat knew this was the human to be stuck too. Tribal band
tattoos wrapped around both upper arms and a number was tattooed on
the left side of his chest.

I never liked tattoos until today. They were too
permanent, too attention getting, and too expensive—but I was
instantly attracted to them on him. Giving my best stink eye for
his comment about my height, I nodded, trying to appear as cool and
unaffected by his presence as possible. He pulled up a mat next to
me and began crunches.

Even covered in perspiration, Landon smelled
delicious. It was a natural woodsy smell that was amazingly
arousing. He moved into full sit ups, grunting again, and my pulse
raced. I tried to look away, but I was mesmerized, for just a
second.

“Like what you see?” he said breathless, as I turned
away, mortified.

“You know what, Landon? You really think you’re hot
shit, don’t you?” I jumped up and brushed off my sweat roughly with
a towel.

“What’s your deal? You walk around here like the Ice
Queen. No one is out to get you. Relax. Have fun. It’s fucking
summer.” Landon had stopped his sit ups and was watching me with a
look that could only be described as part irritation, part
diversion.

“Go to hell. You know nothing about me or my life.
All you care about is flirting with high school girls. It’s
disgusting, really.” Gathering my bag and water bottle, I huffed
out of the weight room. But Landon was right about three things. It
was summer, I was acting like a bitch, and no one was out to get
me. But I sure as hell didn’t need him to teach me a lesson. Who
did he think he was? Nineteen years old with a God complex. I was
pissed that he had gotten under my skin so damn quickly.

The question that most baffled me was, why?