Page 6 of Slippery When Wet

“Crap!” I whispered under my breath, my hand on my chest.

“Fuc-udge,” He semi-cursed, and I blinked. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” I snapped defensively. We both knew I had jumped out of my skin. The hand that had been on my chest flew to cover my mouth. “I didn’t mean to sound?—“

“It’s okay.” He smiled softly. “You mind some company?” He pointed at the edge of the pool next to me.

“No. I’m, I mean, of course.” I blinked, wondering if I made sense. “I just, umm… yes. You can sit, please,” I nervously rambled.

It's him!

The man from literally all my dreams. Abel Peña sat down next to me and turned to look at me.

“I’m Abel, by the way, Abel Peña,” he introduced himself, extending a hand for me to shake.

But I didn’t.

I froze like an idiot, staring at it like it could possibly bite me. Like if I were to touch it, I knew the world would turn itself on its side and never make sense again.

“Abby,” I whispered, and if he was offended by me not taking his hand, he didn’t show it. Nope. The charming man simply smiled and rested his hand on the concrete between us. I glanced between us and licked my lips. His hand was so close to my bare thigh. His fingers were long and thick and manly. Like, really manly.

Suddenly, I was aware of what I was wearing, or how little I was wearing. I was a bigger girl. Always had been. Curvy but comfortable in my skin. I hadn’t really thought ahead enough when I’d slipped into my swimsuit to think I’d actually take my dress off, much less if someone saw me in it.

Not that I didn’t look good. I looked damn good in it. But it was him!

“Abby is a pretty name,” he complimented. Warmth spread through me. His eyes were so blue. So beautiful. Bluer than any waters I’d seen. Bluer than the wallpaper of my laptop at home, and that was a picture I’d taken from Google.

“Thank you.” I blinked and realized I’d been staring.

Not only that, but he had been staring right back.

My head jerked forward, and I ignored the heat that hit my face. I looked out at the pool, semi-ignoring the man next to me because I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“You going to go for a swim?” he asked, completely unbothered by my behavior.

“Umm…” I licked my lips. Abel Peña was talking to me. He was sitting next to me in the pool, his hand close to my thigh. Holy shit! This was like something out of my dreams. I breathed in deeply, and even with the scent of chlorine heavy in the air, I could make out the smell of his cologne. Or maybe it’s just his own unique scent?

And we were talking about me going into the water.

God, I was going to make such an idiot out of myself. I knew it. I was a terrible flirt. My one and only attempt at trying to approach a crush had been in high school, and the whole thing had been horrible. Since then, I’d decided it wasn’t worth the humiliation. My mouth was suddenly dry, and my heart started to race.

“No.” I shook my head. “I should probably get going,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to leave. Not only did I not want all my bits in front of his face if I stood up and turned around, there was something deep inside me that was actually somehow comfortable. Comfortable and extremely nervous all rolled in one.

“Hot date?” he asked, and I snorted.

“Not even a little bit.”

“I heard you’re a bookkeeper.” I turned to look at him.

“I am,” I confirmed but couldn't figure out what else to say. Thankfully, where I was a serious introvert and terrible at making small talk, Abel didn’t seem to have that problem.

“I own a business and?—"

“Pools, right?” I winced inside, realizing I’d cut him off while trying to make conversation.

“Yeah.” He smiled. If he was offended by my interruption, he didn’t show it. Not with the easy grin on his handsome face that felt contagious. “I’m good with all sorts of things but numbers,” he groaned. “I was wondering if maybe you were possibly taking on new clients?”

“Oh.” That’s when it hit me. He wasn’t talking to me because I was living in some kind of alternative universe. He was talking to me because he was trying to network. The smile I had on my face threatened to slip. I felt like an idiot. “Of course. Just look up Nerdy Girl Bookkeeping online, and you’ll find my site. You can send me a message through there.”

---