Page 23 of Downfall

After we check out every last amenity in our suite and do a bit of unpacking, we put on our bathing suits and go down to the main pool. It’s a Monday afternoon in December, and the place is packed. Glancing around, I see a couple getting ready to leave their loungers, so I head in that direction, grabbing Viv’s hand.

“You grab the seats and I’ll go get us some drinks,” she says, trying to talk over the noise at the pool without yelling straight into my ear.

I nod, not stopping until I’m on one lounger and my beach bag is on the other. I lie back, enjoying the mid-afternoon sun and perfect eighty-degree day.

After a few minutes, Viv joins me, handing me a shot of tequila and a margarita.

“To bestie trips in Mexico!” I yell, clinking my shot glass with hers. We shoot them back and laugh as we both rush to shove lime slices in our mouths.

“So,” Viv starts after a few sips of her drink. “Are we keeping our eyes peeled for eligible bachelors on this trip? I know someone who needs to get laid.”

“First of all, you are one to talk. And second, I’m not opposed to it—” My stalker wouldn’t follow me out of the country, right? I haven't heard from him in months, and maybe I could get some action here in Mexico without him finding out. “But you know if anything happens, it has to stay between us.” I give her a stern look. She knows all about the texts and gifts. I was hoping she could help me get some kind of read on the guy from what he sent me, but without the person present, it’s nearly impossible.

“Your secrets are safe with me, Abbs. And fuck off. I get laid plenty; I just don’t introduce them to you or Max because they're nothing serious.” Before she’s even done speaking, she’s scanning the pool, but stops, staring at something across the way, a smile growing on her face.

“What are you staring at?” I ask, following her line of sight.

“Found him,” she teases, grinning at me. And, holy fuck, did she ever.

Directly across from us, with his feet dangling in the pool, is a gorgeous man. And he’s staring right back at me.

I can see the clear ocean blue of his eyes from here, framed by dark lashes. His dark hair is cut short on the sides, and the long top is wet and has been pushed back out of his face. Looking over at Viv, I mouth, “Did you see his abs?” and she laughs, using her hand to fan herself. I steal one more glance at him, and my jaw drops.

Snapping my teeth back together, I turn to Viv. “Oh my god, Viv. I think I know him.”

“What? From where?” She glances back at him again, and I smack her arm.

“Stop looking!” I whisper-yell, making her laugh. “He’s been into the club a couple times. I call him ‘backward hat guy’ in my head; he always shows up too late for a lap dance but sits front and center for my set.”

Standing, I tell Viv I’m going to the bar to get us another round. This week just got a whole lot more interesting, and I haven't decided if that's a good or bad thing yet.

“Two margaritas, please,” I say to the bartender at the poolside bar. This bar also has a swim-up option on the other side, and while I wait for our drinks, I see the blue-eyed hottie approaching one of the underwater barstools.

After speaking with the bartender, he looks around while he waits, taking in the commotion, and eventually, his gaze finds me. Our eyes lock for a few seconds, and he shoots me a grin, clearly recognizing me. He has a dimple on his right cheek that is just visible through his short stubble, and all I can think about as I turn away, looking at anything but him, is how amazing that stubble would feel against my inner thighs.

I squeeze my legs together, aroused just by the thought of a man between my legs. It’s been three fucking years, and I can't wait any longer. Luckily, it doesn't seem like I'll have to as Mr. Backward Hat Guy himself makes his way toward me.

As he ascends the pool steps, drink in hand, my mind plays him in slow motion. He pushes his wet hair back out of his face, water drips down his abs to the waistband of his bright blue swim trunks, and that dimple returns as I obviously ogle him.

“Hey, I can't believe I've never introduced myself before now—I’m Rett,” he says, his smile firmly in place.

I peel my gaze away from his body long enough to meet his eyes and reply, “I'm Abby. Nice to formally meet you.”

“Did you and your friend just get here today?” he asks, fishing for any information about other people I might be here with.

“Yeah, just a couple of hours ago. How about you?”

“My buddies and I arrived yesterday. We’re here until Saturday.”

“Just a guy's trip, huh? Any special occasion?”

“We were all roommates in college and haven't seen each other in a few years. A couple of them moved away from San Diego or got married and are busy. Now only two of us are left there and single. So we got away for the week.”

“Where in San Diego do you live?”

“Ocean Beach. I surf most mornings, so I like living close to the water. How about you?”

“I live in Downtown, not far from the club. And my best friend,” I point toward Viv, who waves when Rett turns to look at her, “has a restaurant there.”

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