Lindsay

 

Kate’s dad dives into the pool in their back yard, and I try not to look.

“I’d better get home. Mom will be back soon,” I say to Kate. I’ve stayed too long as it is, sitting gossiping on the lawn chairs. After our grueling shift at the mall, we slumped down, exhausted to catch some rays still in our uniforms, too tired to change. I didn’t realize her dad would be home this early. It’s usually after six before he gets in.

“You know your mom won’t mind. She won’t be in for a while.” Kate knows my family too well. We’ve been inseparable since we were five.

“But I promised her I’d have dinner started before she gets back.” I can’t resist a peek at Mr. Day powering smoothly through the water, his body strong and sleek. I have to stop thinking about the strength of his arms, the firmness of his thighs. He’s ruining me for guys my own age.

He shouts over to us, in that familiar low voice. “Why not grab your swimsuits and come in? The pool is perfect after a day in this heat.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Kate says. She rarely goes in the pool, because, as she says, she gets wet and cool for ten minutes and then she has to spend an hour showering and redoing her hair and makeup.

“What about you, Lindsay? Feel free, even if Kate doesn’t want to swim. You know you can use the pool any time.”

“Thanks, Mr. Day, but I’ve got to go.”

“Gavin, call me Gavin,” he says. “Never mind. Another time.”

There won’t be another time unless he’s not there. I’m sure to blush and look like a dork, not to mention if I wear a swimsuit, my stomach will be all too obvious. I suck it in again. I wish I could hold my breath all day, but I sigh and breathe out.

It’s a wonder my friend hasn’t realized why I make myself scarce around her dad. But I think she’s completely oblivious, as if no one could possibly feel anything but daughterly toward the hottest guy on the planet. Doesn’t she even notice how he looks?

She often goes on about the women her dad takes out, totally clueless how painful that is for me to hear. I don’t want to know about their dresses, their beauty or how sophisticated they are with their glamorous careers. And never girls like us just out of college.

Anyway, it’s time for me to go home and after one last glance at the pool, I leave Kate with her dad. I’ll see her later.

I have dinner almost ready by the time Mom gets home, and Dad follows soon after. I’m a good daughter, or I like to think I am. I’ve never really gotten in a lot of trouble. Why would I? My parents are there for me. They care. They saved up so I could go to college. They don’t get in my face all the time. But then, I don’t give them any reason to worry.

Pluto comes and nuzzles around my ankles in the kitchen while Mom and Dad dump their work stuff, and I stroke his shaggy fur. Boring. That’s what I am. Boring or bored?

Kate and I are going out tonight. She wants to try a new place by the beach.

“We need to live a little,” she said earlier when we made our plans. She thinks we weren’t wild enough when we were at college, but she had boyfriends unlike me. Her latest lasted six months, but she’s not dating anyone right now.

Of course, I’ve been on dates, but there’s always been something about those guys that makes me not want to see them again. Too full of themselves, too handsy, too dull, just not making my heart beat faster…like Mr. Day. I have to stop this and give those boys a chance. And that starts tonight. I’m determined.

So, I’m optimistic getting ready.

When Kate calls for me she says her dad is going to give us a lift.

“I thought you were driving? How will we get back? I can drive if you like.”

“Nope, not happening. We’re going to a cocktail bar and getting an Uber home.”

So much for keeping out of Mr. Day’s way. At least I get to sit in the back of the car where he can’t see me. But then while Kate chatters away, I can’t help fixating on the back of his neck, the way his dark hair curls at his collar, the smooth command he has over the car. His arms with the smattering of dark hair in that soft blue cotton shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. I catch him looking at me in the mirror. Damn! I forgot the mirror. I feel my cheeks redden.

“Okay, Lindsay?” he asks in that smooth, low voice of his that could sell a million products. As well as the radio show, he does voiceovers for commercials, audiobooks, and some voice acting in animations. It freaks me out whenever I hear him when I’m not expecting to. That sultry, sexy voice.

“Yes, I’m good.”

Did he know I was looking at him? And what I was thinking? I hope not. In my mind, his hands were on me, not on the car. All over me. And now I have his voice in my head saying “Okay, Lindsay?” over and over, like a chorus from a song that you catch yourself repeating all day.

I’ve got it bad.

When we get to the bar, that they somehow called “Fruit” instead of “Alcohol,” he gets out and helps me out of the car first before he opens Kate’s door. And then I have his touch to remember too, the touch that sends a rocket of desire through me, a little shudder that leaves my heart throbbing and my panties wet.

“Have fun, girls, just not too much fun,” he says. “You’re both looking gorgeous. You’ll knock them dead.” And he raises his eyebrows up and down a couple of times and laughs. Like all this is funny. And it probably is to him. God, I’m so pathetic.

But Kate rolls her eyes at her father and his remarks, and I giggle at that.

“Thanks for the lift, Dad,” she says and kisses him on the cheek.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Day,” I say. I wish I could kiss the dark scruff of his face, too.

“Gavin,” he says. “Call me Gavin.”

And with that we go into Fruit.