Page 74 of The Love Haters

Another shake.

Hutch’s eyes got wider. “Thebackside?”

I widened my own eyes to confirm.

Then, “How much of it ripped?”

I felt around, and then winced at my assessment. “Most of it, by the feel of things?”

Hutch lowered his voice. “Are you saying your ass is hanging out of that nonexistent swimsuit right now?”

I met his eyes and nodded.

Hutch threw his head back to the heavens for a second, like this was too much. Then he looked me in the eyes and said, “Let’s shut this down for today.”

But I grabbed his arm. “No! I’m just getting the hang of it.”

“You can’t just swim around in this pool with your butt hanging out.”

I clutched his shoulder. “If we leave right now, I will never come back. I can’t. I won’t. And then I’ll have to forfeit this job and my whole career and everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Wow,” Hutch said.

“I’m not kidding,” I said.

Hutch searched my expression then, and at last, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I have an idea.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I watched as Hutch reached down, grabbed the hem of his own black rash guard, and peeled it up over his head.

Then he handed the wet fabric to me in a wad and said, “Here.”

“Herewhat?”

“Here, put it on.”

But I shook my head. That wouldn’t solve my problem. “It’s just going to float up.”

“Not like a shirt. Put it on like a diaper.”

I frowned. “Like adiaper?”

“Put your legs through the armholes and then we’ll tie a knot around your waist.”

“Okay, there are a lot of other words you could’ve used besidesdiaper.”

“Come on,” he said. “People are waiting.”

I looked around. Peoplewerewaiting.

“Okay.” I nodded, but then I just stared at the pile of wadded-up nylon until Hutch took it from me.

He found an armhole and stretched it wide, and then he lowered it under the surface near one of my feet and said, “Step through.”

What else could I do? I stepped through.

Then I did the same on the other side.

Then I stood there, still as a department store mannequin, as Hutch worked his upside-down rash guard up my legs, pulled the hem of it tight around my waist, and twisted it into a knot. Then he pushed and pulled at the fabric (and by extension me) for a minute before declaring, “That’ll hold.”

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