No Regrets (11 page)

“Hi,”
Henry says during a break a couple hours later. I waved to Shelly to let her know I was going to the restroom since we don’t have adult swim. To my surprise, Henry follows me into the changing room and locks the door.

“Hey,” he says, cornering me for a kiss and wrapping his arms around my waist. “How’s it going?”

“It’s not so bad right now.”

“Wait until the alcohol kicks in,” he grimaces. “You let me know if you have any problems, okay?”

“Problems?”

“These any of these guys get handsy.”

I give him the side-eye. “I doubt that will be a problem.”

“Drunken fra
t boys and a hot 20-year old that has no idea how hot she is? I may go six kinds of caveman before the day’s over,” he says, kissing me under the ear, eliciting a shiver.

Someone, a girl from the sounds of her giggle, bangs on the door and we pull apart. Henry opens the door to a pair of girls in barely
-there bikinis and jerks his thumb in my direction. “Someone got sick in here, we’re just cleaning up.”

“Ew, gross,” she says. T
urning to her friend she says, “Let’s just go pee in the woods.”

Henry goes back out to the pool and I
‘clean up’ the mess.  Even in the short time I’ve been away from my guard chair things have gotten more rowdy. The guys are hauling in their second keg and several couples are playing chicken in the shallow end. We’re supposed to keep the pool open until dark, but I’m not sure these kids are going to make it.

Just before dinner
, a guy swaggers up to my chair. He has shaggy blond hair with mirrored sunglasses pushed into the curls. “Hey,” he says, leaning his elbow on the base of the stand.

“Hi.” I glance down quickly but refocus on the pool. The three of us are on pretty high alert. Two girls already got sick near the deep end.

“Are you a friend of Shelly’s?” he asks.

“Uh, no. Not really. We just work together sometimes.”

“You look familiar,” he says. His eyes are a grayish blue, pretty enough but not deadly like Henry’s. I search the pool deck and find him standing on the edge of the pool talking to a couple of girls who are waist deep in the water.

I gla
nce down and don’t recognize him. Shrugging, I say, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

He takes a sip of his drink, his expression thoughtful. “You go to the university?”

“I do.” I push my whistle between my lips and blow. “Hey guys, don’t do that,” I say to a pair of knuckleheads shoving two other guys’ heads under water and holding them there. The both lift up their hands in submission before fist bumping. The two guys emerge from the water gasping for breath. I sigh and say out loud, “They’re worse than the kids.”

“Freshm
en,” the guy next to me says. “We let some of them come up for pre-rush every summer. It’s always a mistake. A hilarious mistake, but still. By the way, I’m Jackson.”

Of course he is.

I look over at Shelly and sure enough she has a big grin on her face and she mouths, “Told you.”  I shake my head but say to him, “I’m Zadie.”

“Well
, Zadie,” he says with admittedly the loveliest southern drawl. “I’ll let you get back to work, but hopefully we’ll meet up again sometime. Under less distracting circumstances.”

“Sure,” I say
noncommittally. Henry’s finally checked in on my situation and he’s got a hard look on his face. His jaw tenses and eyes narrow, and it makes his already handsome face strong and angular.  If this is the caveman thing he was talking about, I like it. Rawr.

Jackson must have realized I’
ve finished talking to him because he saunters away, linking arms with a bikini-clad Tri-Delt. I glance back up and lock eyes with Henry. Over the pool, filled with two dozen drunk, obnoxious people, I can feel the spark between us.

A loud shriek breaks our connection and I ch
eck my watch. We only have an hour left, I think, sitting up a bit straighter. Feels like an eternity.

We spend that last hour trying to keep everyone in and around the pool safe. It’s harder and harder to do with everyone so drunk. The guys bring down a third beer and another cooler of margarita.
Half the party is standing on the tables and chairs dancing and I’m having flashbacks to my own ill-fated drunken exploits.

We’re all relieved when Stacy finally comes down and announces dinner for the partiers. Once the pool is clear she walks over to us and says, “How are things going?”

“They’re heading toward a lawsuit,” Henry replies, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I think we should close up the pool. Everyone is too drunk and I’m worried about someone getting hurt.”

She eyes us like we’re trying to get out of something but Shelly and I chime in our concerns as well.
Stacy fusses with her glasses and hems a bit, but finally concedes. “Okay, but at least two of you need to stick around here so no one will climb the fence and drown.”

A loud shout and screech tears through the woods and we all turn in the direction of the cookout.
She unhooks another key from around her neck. “Lock up the pool and get some dinner. Come back after an hour or so and just keep watch. You guys figure out who’s working. Let me try to contain this.”

“I’ll stay,”
I blurt the second her back’s turned. “Shelly, you should just go to the party. They’re all your friends.”

Henry’s face lights up. “Good idea.”

“I don’t know,” she says, giving Henry a long look. “I’m thinking Henry and I should take one for the team since we’re the most experienced.”

“Experienced at what,” I argue. “Watching an empty pool?”

Henry grabs my arm gently and says, “Let’s get cleaned up and then go eat. We’ll figure it out.”

Shelly claims the shower first back at the cabin. “What’s she doing?” I ask. “Why does she keep trying to work more?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Once she gets a couple drinks in her and hanging with her friends, she’ll forget about it.”

I rummage through my clothes. I didn’t really bring anything nice to wear. Just a couple of T-shirts and an extra bathing
suit. I lay it all out on my bed, trying to decide. Henry picks up the top of the strappy, black and white striped, two-piece. “I haven’t seen this before,” he says.

I pluck it from his hands. “That’s because you tend to see me strictly in red athletic bathing suits.”

“I’ve seen you in a bikini,” he says. “When you came to the pool with Josh that time. The tight number. It was hot.”

“Did you just say number?” I shake my head at his dorkiness. God love him.

Shelly cracks the door to the shower and sticks her head out wrapped in a towel. She holds another one to her chest. “I’m finished if you want to come in,” she says before disappearing back into the bathroom.

I reach for my towel and clothes but Henry stops me.
He slips his hands around my waist, tugging me closer. “Do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Wear that bikini under your clothes. We’ll make the most of the night shift.”

I
gulp and uselessly feel my face color at the ideas circulating in my head, adding the bathing suit to my pile of clothes.

*

We grab a couple platefuls of food and try to slip back to the pool unnoticed. I say ‘try’ because Shelly presses a cup of beer into Henry’s hand before we can make our escape and Jackson follows me through the food line asking me a gazmillion questions.

“Are you in a sorority? Did you rush? Where are you from? What’s your major? Can I get you a drink?” he asks, while suggesting different items of food. I’m about to t
ell him to buzz off when he offers up the following pearl, “I’m not drunk, you know, I’m just intoxicated by your presence.”

“Wow, really?” I ask, completely flabbergasted.

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Too much?”

“Just a little.” Henr
y catches my eye, having bolted from Shelly and we manage to get back to the pool without any clingers. We eat dinner on our towels, laid across two lounge chairs pushed together. As the night sky darkens, the party in the pavilion rages on, the sounds and vibrations bouncing off the forest trees.

Henry’s freshly showered scent is intoxicating, perfuming the night.
We’ve found our own quiet oasis. After we eat, he decides to go for a swim. Well, that we should both go for a swim. I eye his body greedily as he strips off his shirt, revealing those taut, tan muscles and the two delicious dimples at the bottom of his back.

He jumps in the pool and waves me over.

“Come in the water,” he says, ducking his head underneath. I scoot to the edge of the pool and his head pops up near my feet. Water drips down my legs as he reaches for them and tugs me toward him. “Scared?”

“
Of the water? No. Of you? A little.”

He finds my tattoo, inked over my hip. His thumb rubs over it sensuously and my stomach flutters from his gentle touch.
I ease into the pool and he pulls me close, the strings of my bikini floating around us. “You don’t have to be scared of me,” he promises. My hands touch his chest, feeling the hard muscles and smooth skin. I’ve wanted time to explore his body for weeks now—years—and now I’ve got my opportunity.

The water breaks down our barriers and I feel his hand and fingers everywhere. On the small of my back. On my stomach and hips. Just beneath my breasts. I tip my mouth up and I’m met with a powerful kiss. I’ll never get used to the way he tastes and feels, the way it’s as perfect as I’d always hoped.

We move through the dark, Henry directing us to the shallow end until I’m sitting on a submerged step. He kneels before me, never losing contact, his hands or mouth always connected with some part of my body. He stops suddenly, pushing my hair out of my face with a wet hand. “I remember the first time I wanted to kiss you,” he says.

“Last week, outside your apartment?”

He shakes his head. “No, senior year after the regional championship. We were celebrating at Justin Malone’s house and you had on that tie-dye T-shirt, knotted at the waist. Your hair was long and wavy from showering after the meet and you looked so happy, and I felt so happy because we’d won. My relay came in first place and I felt on top of the world.”

“So why didn’t you?” I ask, amazed that he’s revealing this.

“I chickened out. You were so out of my league.”

I snort which leads to a coughing fit. “Me? Yeah right. You were the popular one with all the friends and parties and stuff. I was a clinger who occasionally got invited to smoke up with you guys.”

He runs his hands over my legs beneath the water. “Friends and parties are easy. You and your friends didn’t care about all that. You floated in and out of all the groups.”

“We were nerds.”

“Hot and nerdy,” he says, kissing my forehead and then nose and then mouth. His confession turns me on and I pull him closer by the waistband of his trunks until he’s settled between my legs. “It’s another regret that I have when it comes to you. Not taking that chance. Because I was scared.”

He’s got a serious look on his face. “What are you scared of now?”
I ask.

“Blowing everything with you again.”

“How? Why?”

“Pushing you too fast. Or too slow. Coming off as a horny punk, which I am
, by the way. A complete and utter horny punk, looking to steal your virtue and feeling guilty about it.”

I reach for his face, turning it so he’s looking at me. “I hate to tell you but my virtue is long gone.”

Henry lifts an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were a virgin.”

“Good, because I’m not and I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed for you too,” I say. “Why are we talking about this?” I take his arm and touch his own ink. “No regrets. That’s where we are. Not back then. Here. Now.”

He nods and distracts himself by plucking at the strings around my neck. “These strings are killing me.”

“Yeah, so are these pants,” I shoot back, attempting to shimmy them down his hips to no avail.

“Babe, we take our clothes off and there’s no going back,” he says. “And we’re at the pool with Kappa Sigs nearby.”

As if to prove his point, music filters through the woods from the pavilion.
I straighten up, which only places my chest right in front of his face. Struggling to look in his eyes, I toy with the tiny bow in between my breasts. “If I was one of those sorority girls this weekend, would we be having this conversation?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, would you worry about being caught or taking things slow or would you just be thinking about screwing around?”

His intense eyes
widen and fill with understanding. “If everyone was in agreement I’d be thinking of screwing around.”

“I’m not the kind of girl that needs satin sheets and
roses, Henry. I want you, too. I’ve wanted you for a really long time. I’m not going to regret this.”

Henry lifts me out of the water and I wrap my legs around his waist. Wet and slippery, he
clumsily carries me over to a lounge chair, lowering my body down to the mesh seat. I scoot back, giving him space to join me and with a quick grin he climbs over me, going straight for my chest. My top is gone in a blink.