Page 17 of Stone Rules

In my periphery, I see someone walking around the pool. My skin prickles before he comes fully into view. My body is aware of him even before my mind is.

I ignore the pull of him on my eyes and keep my focus on the man before me. I’m not the least bit interested in Mr. Self-Made. Maybe I would have been a few weeks ago. Hell, he’d have been a shoe-in back then. But things are different now. I don’t need them to get by anymore. But the P.I. doesn’t know that, so I decide to have some fun with it.

“So, Devon Totman. What is it that you do?”

I almost feel bad when his face breaks into a celebratory smile. He thinks he’s won. He has no idea that he’s just become a pawn in my little game.

For the next five minutes, I let him talk all about himself. But I don’t hear a word. The only thing I hear is Ethan’s arms as they slice angrily through the water at a pace that grows faster with each length of the pool. It takes all my strength not to look over and see if he’s watching me between strokes.

“So can I show you around?” Devon asks. “Maybe even tonight, after your swim?”

I reach my hand out of the pool again and offer it to him. “It’s been nice meeting you, Devon. But I have to finish my swim and then I have other plans.”

He grasps my hand, holding it far longer than necessary. “Another time then, Charlie.”

I give him an award-winning smile that says the opposite of what I’m feeling—which is that he doesn’t have a chance in hell. “I’ll see you around the gym, Devon.”

I watch him walk away, all too aware of the deafening silence that surrounds me. You could hear a pin drop in the massive room. Not even Mrs. Buttermaker’s slow strokes reach my ears. I don’t know where Ethan is, but I can feel the tension in the air. The heavy glass door slams behind Devon at the same time that arms cage me to the side of the pool. He’s swum up behind me. His body doesn’t touch mine, but there is a crackle of something between us. And it’s more than the wave of water he brought with him.

I can feel his breath on my ear when he speaks. “Rule number three—don’t talk to arrogant strangers who sleep their way through women at the gym.”

Despite the heated water in the pool, shivers run all the way down my spine. Ethan’s voice does things to me I can’t explain. Devon’s voice was nice. Jarod’s rolls off his tongue like butter. But Ethan’s—I can feel his voice all the way down to my toes. “I’m beginning to think you’re making these rules up as you go along.”

He swims away from me, leaving my body yearning for his touch as he dips under the lane dividers. “Steer clear of Devon Totman,” he says, reaching his favored center lane. “He’s trouble.”

“I can take care of myself, Stone. But thanks for the head’s up.” I hear the beginnings of a snide reply but I cut him off, pushing myself off the wall, torpedoing myself under water to finish my swim.

A few laps later, I see someone standing by my lane at the head of the pool. I smile when I see Mrs. B drying off and I know what words will leave her mouth even before she says them.

“Will you be okay here, sweetie?” Her eyes flicker over to Ethan as she asks the same question she asked me yesterday.

I get the feeling I’m one of the only gym patrons to have given her the time of day. We talked for a few minutes that first night and now she feels like a mother hen or something. But it’s okay. I like it. Not getting much in the way of mother-henning at my home growing up, I’m happy to accept it from just about anyone.

“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Buttermaker. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Okay then. I’ll just be on my way. See you Tuesday night, Charlie.” She’s known me three days and she already knows my workout schedule.

I smile. “Bye, Mrs. Buttermaker.”

I finish up my swim, a little put off that Ethan hasn’t paid me any more attention. I did, after all, wear my most revealing and boob-enhancing one-piece swimsuit for him. It’s a bit old-school Baywatch, but it does the trick. Or so I thought. As I dry off, I watch his muscular body slice effortlessly through the water. I can’t help but think back to last week in his office when that very same body was slamming into mine as I teetered on the edge of his desk. I remember his strong arms that carried me across the room. His shaggy hair that I ran my fingers through. His sexy tattoo.

I really want to know what the tattoo means. But that would involve asking a personal question. I don’t do personal.Then why did you let him kiss you that way?

He pops up out of the water to catch me staring. “You done?” he asks.

I wrap the towel around my waist. “Yeah.”

“Okay. See you next time.” He turns around and continues his swim.

What the fuck just happened?No offer to walk me home. No more shit about Devon. No witty banter. Nothing. The man is more unpredictable than a PMS-ing woman.

I cross my arms over my body and stand there, watching him do a lap and waiting for him to swim back towards me. When he touches the edge closest to me, he doesn’t even bother slowing down. He does his little underwater flip thing and keeps on going.

Ugh!

I sit down on the edge of the pool, putting my legs in the water where he does his turnaround. I scissor them back and forth so he won’t miss them.

When he reaches my side of the pool again he grabs my feet, slowly walking his hands up my legs as he comes up for air.

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