Page 134 of Whistle

I couldn’t do that anymore. I didn’t want to.

Problem was I wasn’t sure how to move forward. Bodhi had been right, the little shit. I’d been frozen in time. I felt like Encino Man.

Oh, I’m showing my age again? I’m forty, not freaking eighty. But allow me to explain. Encino Man is a movie, circa 1992, about a caveman who is discovered and thawed out by two boneheaded teenagers and has to learn to live in the modern world.

Too bad for me that I couldn’t just pretend to be some clueless foreign exchange student. No. I was an adult. With responsibilities and expectations. And a job. A job I loved.

Where did I go from there?

“Dad! We’re going to be late!” Landry’s voice echoed up the stairs.

I let out a groan. You know where I was going? An auction. Where I was being sold to the highest bidder.

Did I mention I loved my job? Because there was no way on God’s green earth that I would put on this damn monkey suit and stand on a stage for people to gawk at for any other reason.

Liar.

Fine. I didn’t even love my job that much. I’d rather put out a campfire with my face than go to this dog and pony show tonight. I was a swim coach, not an escort.

“Daaaad!”

“I’m coming!” I hollered, turning away from the mirror, already fighting the urge to yank off this god-awful bowtie and feed it to the garbage disposal.

But I wouldn’t. I’d agreed to this. A pathetic attempt to make the dean happy. To keep him off my back and away from Bodhi while I figured shit out.

Elite’s first meet of the season was in two days. Two. If only it were as easy to get Bodhi in the pool and competition-ready as it was to get him in my bed.

Like clockwork, he’d showed up at my door every night this week. It was always late, always in secret, and always impossible to say no.

You’re wondering how the hell I kept up with the libido of a twenty-one-year-old, aren’t you?

Listen, this agism shit is getting old.

Sure, I was no spring chicken, but I was still in my prime. And this boy with the diamond in his navel, lingerie hiding under his jeans, bratty mouth, and blond hair did it for me. Like no one else ever had. The second he was within touching distance, my body hummed with some sort of frenetic energy and this feral urge to claim.

All week, the satisfaction of owning him overruled the sleep I’d forgone. Who needed sleep when he was walking around with a belly full of me?

I was halfway down the stairs when Landry gasped. “Somebody better call the cops because it’s a crime to look that good.”

I stopped midstep to scowl. “It’s time you stop hanging out with those boys, Landry.”

She laughed, red-painted lips pulling up into an ornery grin. “I’m serious, Dad. You look amazing!”

“It’s just a suit,” I mumbled.

“A tuxedo is not a suit, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you in one.”

“Take a picture because it’s the last.” She laughed, and I took her hand and lifted her arm. “But you, ladybug, you are stunning.”

She smiled, running her hand over the fitted waist of her red dress. “You think so?”

I nodded, glancing again at the red satin, how it fit close to her waist and torso, then drifted out around her hips, the fabric floating around her when she turned this way and that. Her blond bob was sleek, and a pair of sparkly hoops dangled from her ears.

“I know so.” I confirmed.

Rush appeared from the kitchen. He was also dressed in a penguin suit, shoving the last bite of whatever he was eating into his mouth.

I was gonna start charging him for groceries.

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