Page 34 of Bombshells
“But what if that was a drowning person? Huh?” one of the other kids says. “You just gonna leave her down there?”
Cedric looks uncomfortable. I don’t think he’s terrified of the water—he’s been in it for an hour. But he doesn’t seem to enjoy getting it on his face.
“Tell you what,” I propose. “If you get the ring, I’ll try to bench press you.”
“What?” He laughs. “How you gonna do that?”
“Not sure, but you could make me figure it out. Go on.”
He snorts. And just when I think he’s going to refuse, he plunges his head under the water and disappears.
Uh-oh. I might be trying to lift this giant in a few minutes.
Sure enough, he pops up a moment later, coughing out a mouthful of water before grinning at me. “Guess who’s gotta bench me now?”
Eleven
Never Forget a Woman’s Name
SYLVIE
Yesterday, when I caught up to him at the practice facility, Anton had told me that he was a little nervous about teaching swimming. That’s why I gave him the smaller crew in the shallow end.
But I’ve been keeping an eye on him down there, and those boys are hanging on every word he says. And he’s gotten every one of them to step through various swimming skills.
And he looks mighty fine doing it, just saying. I wasn’t prepared to see a dripping wet, mostly naked Anton Bayer. His sculpted upper body is luscious. And the color of his laughing eyes matches the pool tiles.
Meanwhile I’m flailing around down here trying to keep all ten of these teens occupied, trying to learn their names and make myself heard amid the splashing and the echoing acoustics.
This is more work than a two-hour hockey practice. Who knew?
I’m just dragging myself across the finish line when I see all of Anton’s guys climb out of the water at once. They’re very animated about something and pointing and laughing.
Anton glances in my direction, and his face looks sheepish somehow.
“Okay—everybody out,” I say, climbing out of the pool to grab my towel. “Good work today!” There’s still a few minutes left of our time, but I’m curious about what Anton is up to. So I head over there.
“What about those kickboards?” somebody suggests.
“Those’ll break!” complains another.
“Excuse me,” I say, toweling off my face. “Is there a problem?”
Anton gives me that sheepish smile again. He hasn’t put a shirt on yet, and it’s distracting. “Can I get your opinion about something?” He waves me over to where we can consult more or less privately.
“Sure?” And then I’m standing close to him, trying to figure out where to put my eyes.
“So, I kinda lost a bet,” he whispers.
Wait, really? “With one of the kids?”
“Yup. I have to bench press him now.”
I blink. That was not what I expected him to say.
“Look, I know it’s kinda ridiculous, but I hope you’re not too annoyed. I got him to go underwater.”
Annoyed? A gurgle of laughter erupts from my belly. “Hilarious! So how are we going to do this?” I turn around to address my crew. “Does anybody want to dry off and fetch a phone out of the locker room? We’re going to need some pictures.”
