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“It was a daycare placement,notbabysitting,” I reply with an exaggerated eye roll.
“Sounds the same to me.”
“Anyway,” I stress the word, “I was calling to see what you were up to. It’s hot as Hell out here today so my plans to hit the waterfront are out. The crowds will be massive.”
His deep chuckles sends delicious ripples up my spine. “How about you head to my place and we spend the afternoon by the pool.”
I stop walking, stunned at this new discovery. “You have a pool?”
“Yeah. The penthouse apartments have access to a private pool on the roof. Come over and we’ll explore it together.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice!” That sounded really nice. “I should be there in about forty minutes.”
“I can send a car.”
“Nah, I’m good. Do you need me to pick anything up for lounging pool-side though?”
“Again, I can send a car.”
“Well excuse me for asking Mr. Hockey Star.” My reaction amuses him.
“Just bring your beautiful self and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
“Alright,” I say on a laugh. “I’ll see you soon then. Bye.”
I’m about ten minutes into my streetcar ride when I start to really curse myself for declining Grant’s offer of a pick-up. When the third sweaty person presses into me, a unpleasant smell accompanying each personal space violation, I start holding my breath and praying. Why did I think public transit was a good idea in this heat?
By the time I make it to Grant’s I’m in a mood. As I’m walking up the street to his condo building, I text him to let him know I’m almost there. As I’m looking down at my cell cradled in my hand, a bright flash goes off. Jerking my head up, I look around but see no one. I must be seeing things. When the automatic doors slide open and the cool air hits me, I let out a sigh.
“Good afternoon Miss. Lee-Anderson,” the security guard smiles from behind his station. For a second I’m caught off-guard, stunned that he knows my name. He sweeps his arm towards the elevator designated for penthouse occupants only, signaling that it was waiting for me. Grant must have called down to let them know I was coming. Giving the guard a wave back, I turn the corner, shocked to see Grant waiting by the door.
“Hey,” I greet him softly. “You didn’t have to come down to get me.” Going up on my tiptoes, I kiss him, smiling when he keeps his arms around me.
“I know I didn’t, but the pool is the highest level and I figured it’d be nice to go up together.”
My lips squish up in understanding as we walk onto the elevator together. He came down to make sure I didn’t have a panic attack going so high up by myself. I grasp his arm, giving it a squeeze in thanks. He looks down at me, his own smile in place, and gives me a gentle nod. I was seriously coming to love this man. No, that was a lie. I was already heavily in love with him, but I was too chicken shit to voice it. If he kept doing above-and-beyond gestures like this though, I was sure the words would spill out of me unintentionally soon.
The ride passes quickly encased in Grant’s arms and telling him the cute stories from the day. When we arrive on the top floor, I lose my breath at the stunning entrance way. Ivy is climbing the walls and a beautiful arch as we make our way back outside. The pool is a pristine blue, the water only disturbed by a small fountain to the side. Okay, maybe money did buy happiness sometimes.
“This is incredible,” I say slowly, trying to look at everything all at once. The white tile that surrounds the pool gradually gives way to stained wood in an area that looks setup for BBQ and sunbathing. Grant continues to give me the tour, continually amazing me with what was offered.
“I figured you didn’t have a bathing suit on under your work close,” he jokes with me. “But there is a room within the woman’s change room that will have a variety of suits and sizes for you to choose from.”
“How do I pay for that?”
“You don’t. They’re complimentary.”
I’m taken aback. I couldn’t have heard him right. “They’re free?”
“Yeah,” he says, hesitating for a second.
I couldn’t believe it but okay. He points to the change room and I head that way, looking over my shoulder only once before entering. The interior of the change room is just as beautiful as the pool area. It’s intimidating almost. I don’t want to touch anything in case I leave a smudge or something. Exploring farther, I find the room of bathing suits that Grant was talking about. I shake my head the whole time I grab a suit and put it on, not believing the opulence of this place.
The two-piece bikini I chose sits nicely on my body, the top straps only needing a little adjusting. On my way back out, I grab a towel and something called a tanning bag – which is really just a bag with cheap sunglasses, sunblock and tanning spray. Grant is already laid out on one of the loungers. My mouth goes dry at the sight. Every muscle of his beautiful upper body is stretched and exposed to the sun. His six-pack ripples as he moves to adjust something on the side of his chair and I can’t help but appreciate his dedication. He’s a master at his sport, but it takes a certain level of dedication to hone your body into a machine. The short black bathing suit he’s wearing shows off the power of his legs, his large thighs straining.
Sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, Grant eyes me, a small smirk on his face. He knows exactly what I’m looking at.
“I’m very much enjoying this show,” I tell him, dropping my towel and bag down by him.
