Never Ever

4| A little wet

In less than two seconds, I'm trapped in a small, enclosed space with Berkeley's biggest womanizer. I glance at him in the door's reflection, unable to help myself. We look like night and day together: me, small and unassuming – the girl next door – and him, the chiseled-to-perfection swimmer with eyes full of sin.

I focus on the ceiling's gold trim and wait for him to press the button. I'm so far out of my comfort zone that it's practically a dot on the horizon at this point, but Noah seems non the wiser.

As if trying to make me uncomfortable, he slowly leans across me, allowing his shoulder to brush past mine as he scans his key card and hits the button for the rooftop. He steps back a little, taking in my tense shoulders. "I'm starting to think relaxing isn't your strong suit." He says it like relaxing around someone like him is easy, but it's impossible. His presence sucks the air from the elevator, leaving me struggling to breathe.

"I am relaxed."

His lips curl, revealing one-half of a dimple. "In case you didn't know," he says, dropping his voice, "lying isn't your strong suit, either."

My throat burns at the huskiness in his voice. I ignore him completely, relieved when the doors slide open, and cut through his arrogant reflection.

I step forward and pause, completely awestruck. Noah Atterwood might be many things – wealthy, entitled, bordering elitist – but his pool is a hermit's wildest dream. It's nestled between two waterfalls, covered in shrubs not conducive to a San Francisco fall, but when you're this wealthy, anything goes.

"Jesus." I turn to Noah, speechless. "How can anyone afford to rent a place like this?"

He shrugs. "Jesse's dad owns it outright – we don't have to pay anything."

He says it so casually, as if owning a penthouse suite is not outrageous, but I can't even bring myself to care. I dump my bag on the nearest lounger and move toward the pool.

The night sky falls across the rooftop like a blanket, transforming the water into a dark, gleaming mirror reflecting the stars above. I trace the water's edge with my fingers, creating a rippling effect. I'm in both heaven and hell simultaneously.

"What?" I say when I catch Noah watching me. 

"Nothing," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, but there is something in his expression I can't place. Amusement? Disbelief? Whatever it is, it's not terrible. "You ready to test it out?"

My heart thuds with excitement, the same way it used to before one of my meets, this sense that I'm finally home. If only that home were not inside Noah Atterwood's love lair. "Before we do this," I say, "I want to remind you that the only thing I owe you are my notes."

"Jesus," he says, sounding frustrated. "Who hurt you, Blue?"

I start to get up, but his protests make me pause. "All right, all right," he says. "Message received. Again."

I turn to face the pool again. Half of me is tempted to head straight for the diving board, but I have to remind myself I'm not that Ever anymore. No matter how much I wish otherwise, today is about taking things slow.

With a glance at my outfit, I freeze. Even though I'd been in a swimsuit around Noah on the yacht, the lack of a sarong makes this whole thing feel decidedly more intimate. "Could you turn around so I can change into my swimsuit?"

His eyebrow arches; he can't hide his smirk. "I'm about to see you in less than two minutes."

The death look I give him compels him to turn around. I peel off my sweatpants, wriggling a little as they drop to my feet. My t-shirt goes next, but as I start to pull it over my head, I risk a glance at Noah and see he's pulling his off too.