Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“All I’m trying to say,” Legend drawls dramatically, “is that you’re not exactly known for providing scintillating conversation with women. You’re more the bang ’em and leave ’em type.”
“Is that really how people see me?” I ask him curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice. I really don’t care what people think but if it gives me insight into Blue, I’d like his opinion.
“You’re a player, dude,” Legend says with a laugh and slaps me on the back. “Nothing wrong with it. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats.”
He’s got a point. Except the only oats I want to sow are in Blue Gardner’s fields.
I shake my head. Wait. That doesn’t sound right at all.
Legend makes it to the lobby door right at the same time I see the other three flight attendants walking out of the hotel. Legend opens the door and motions for them to precede him out. They’re all dressed in short, sexy dresses, with high-heeled sandals. They give flirty smiles at us as we all step out into the humid Miami evening.
“Where are you ladies headed?” Legend asks.
Valerie, a tall redhead with a distinctive southern accent answers. “We just thought we’d walk around until we spotted something.”
“You can join us if you want,” Legend offers. I don’t miss the slight predatory twinkle in his eyes. He may not be a serial skirt chaser like I am, but I know he’d totally nail any one of these beauties if they were so inclined.
“We’d love to,” the brunette named Lyla says. She’s definitely a party girl and I know this because several of the other players have carnal knowledge of what lies between pretty Lyla’s legs.
“Then let’s go,” Legend says and suavely offers an arm to each lady so he can escort them down the sidewalk. They giggle and loop their arms through his.
I turn to Sadie quickly. “Where’s Blue?”
Her eyes cut to Legend, Lyla, and Valerie walking away from us before coming back to me. “Swimming.”
“Swimming?” I repeat, because that just seems…odd.
“Yeah. She loves to swim. Used to swim competitively in high school or something like that. She’s in the pool any chance she can get when we’re on the road.”
“Huh,” I mutter, my head turning to look back at the lobby doors.
“We better go or they’ll leave us behind,” Sadie remarks as she points in their direction.
I look that way, then back to the lobby doors for just a brief moment before bringing my gaze to Sadie. “Look…I know you’re good friends with Blue. Or at least it seems that way on the plane. How much of a fool would I be if I went to go talk to her right now?”
“Ten times the fool,” she says without missing a beat. But then she smiles sympathetically and nods to the doors. “But doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
A grin breaks out on my face. “I like your pep talk, Coach. I might catch up with you guys later.”
“Good luck,” she says.
“Thanks,” I say with a wave as I turn away from her. “I’ll need it.”
Inside the hotel, I hit up the front desk and get directions to the pool. There’s actually one indoors on the basement level and one outdoors on the rooftop. I’m guessing if Blue is swimming for exercise, she’s going to be in the indoor one. I imagine the rooftop pool is filled with partiers clad in bathing suits and drinking fruity cocktails.
The smell of chlorine hits me as I turn down a hall and I come up against a long glass wall that encloses the indoor pool. There’s a handful of people in one end with some kids, and then there’s Blue. Swimming freestyle at the far side. Her suit is a one-piece and black. She’s wearing a swim cap and goggles.
She slices through the water with ease, her strokes consistently smooth and measured. Her head tilts to the side for air about every fourth stroke.
I walk slowly around the pool as I watch her swim. She makes it to one end, executes a perfect flip and heads back in the opposite direction. It’s not my intention to interrupt her workout, so I take up residence at a table in the corner where a gym bag and towel are sitting there—presumably hers—and I wait for her to finish.
She seems utterly tireless and I stop counting after twenty-five laps.
Finally, she swims back toward me and rather than flipping when she reaches the wall, her hands go to the edge and her gaze lifts up to lock with mine. She’s barely out of breath and I’m impressed.
Blue lifts the goggles from her eyes so they’re perched on top of her head. Her lips are flattened as she asks, “What are you doing here, Erik?”
“I’ve come to apologize,” I tell her.