Anyone But Nick (Anyone But... #3) - Penelope Bloom Page 0,53

found the splashing sounds and smells oddly nostalgic. Something about that smell specific to indoor public pools reminded me of late nights at motels on family vacations as a kid. It was like I could close my eyes and go back to simpler times, except I wasn’t sure I would’ve traded simple for where I was anymore.

Things had become almost unbearably complicated, but I was starting to sense that if I could find my way through the tangle of choices ahead, happiness was waiting for me.

Iris and I took up two lounge chairs. She sank back comfortably into hers, but I perched on the end of mine, legs vibrating on their own.

“You look like a drug addict jonesing for your next fix, by the way,” Iris said.

“The hardest drug I’ve ever done were the painkillers they gave me after my tonsils got taken out. So, no. Guess again.”

“I don’t need to guess.” Iris rolled her head to look at me with an obnoxious little smirk. “Cade told me about the boner.”

I rolled my eyes. “We just kissed, and it was only for, like, a minute. Maybe.”

“Who kissed who?”

“I kind of started it, technically. He was talking circles around it, and I just kind of . . . went for the kill.”

She reached out her fist toward me and waited.

“I’m not going to fist-bump you over this,” I said.

“Suit yourself. Still though. Nice.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Not really. I kissed my boss and managed to turn an already complicated situation nuclear.”

“Hardly. The whole no dating your boss thing is really only a big deal when your boss is way above you on the company ladder. If you and Nick were on a company ladder, your nose would practically be in his ass—which you’d love, I’m sure.”

“I don’t follow.”

“It’s not weird when you two are practically in the same position. I mean, think about it. It’s weird if you’re his secretary, because then he could promote you like twenty times before you’re right beneath him—pun intended. But if you’re his VP, it’s not like he’s going to just step down and give you his job because you’re greasing his pole.”

“Ew,” I said.

“So,” she continued, “if he did decide to give you his job, he wouldn’t be your boss anymore. If he doesn’t, then he’s not playing favorites. Get it? It’s a win-win situation. He literally can’t abuse his position because of his feelings for you.”

“In a stupid kind of way, I guess that does make sense. I mean, assuming I ignore the fact that everybody I’ve ever known would think I only got the job in the first place because we were already together, but just hiding it. And then they’d wonder about every job and promotion I’ve landed in the past.”

“That would be their opinion, and opinions are like assholes, anyway.”

“Everyone has one, and most of them stink?” I asked.

“What? No. And what kind of person goes around sniffing assholes? I was going to say everybody acts like they’re so great, but if you look at them up close, they’re usually all gross and puckered little gremlin holes.”

I stared at her. “I don’t even want to acknowledge that with a response.”

“I’m just saying that you’d be shocked by how good it feels to stop giving a shit what people say about you. Maybe do what you want for once instead of what people think you should want.”

I sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

“You’re right. I can only imagine what I’d do if Larry the goat farmer thought I had slept my way to the top in my career. Or God forbid Mary Stevens, the world’s foremost expert on daytime-television game shows, thinks you’ve been too promiscuous. How would you even go on living without their approval?”

“West Valley is home. How am I supposed to just say, ‘Screw it—I don’t care what everybody I’ve ever known thinks about me’?”

“You find something you care about more than their opinions, I guess.”

I nodded. “Maybe you’re right. For once.”

“Good. So now you can stop fighting your primal instincts and go jump his bones.”

“Not exactly. Even if I wipe away the whole boss thing, I’ve still got issues.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

I glared. “I mean with the idea of dating Nick.”

“Right. And those issues are?”

“I don’t know . . . the oath? That I found out he didn’t ask Kira out because he was an idiot seven years ago. It was only because, well—” I cleared my throat. I’d never told Iris or Kira about the poem, and