This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,13

only thing I don’t have is anyone else’s phone number. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason to have a phone you carry around with you. Instead of letting my contacts remain empty, I input the local library’s telephone number into it. It was the only number I ever memorized. The only one I ever called, desperately searching if the new books I wanted to check out were ready.

College has really put a damper on my reading life. I guess it doesn’t matter since I’m living out my own sexy thriller.

When I’m done, I venture out for a snack. Lucas had been right when he realized I probably hadn’t been eating well. It wasn’t just because of the lack of food or the money needed to buy it, my appetite had disappeared after that moment on my family’s property. I was sick to my stomach with worry and grief. It’s good timing that it’s coming back now when I actually have access to food.

I tiptoe out into the kitchen. The house is dark except for the sporadic dim lights illuminating the floor of the hallway. Bright yellow bananas sit in a bowl on the island, and I grab one, eating it while also pouring myself a glass of water. Walking back to my room, I glance out over the pool. The surrounding patio lights are dimmed, and the moon is high in the sky. A perfect glowing sphere that’s backdropped by the Superstitions. I guess my bed isn’t the only thing I missed. Those mountains have always meant everything to me.

I tease my lower lip, then decide I’m going to go for a swim. I haven’t been in the pool yet, and the scenery is too good to pass up tonight. I hurry to my room, pulling out the bathing suit the guys bought me. It’s modest as far as two-piece suits go. The coral halter top gives way to a flowy hem that brushes my navel. The bottoms are on the low-cut side even though they have decent coverage.

I stare at myself in the mirror after I pull them on, my heart beating an extra rhythm. I’ve never owned a bathing suit. Hell, I’ve never even been in a pool. I learned to swim in the mountain river. I’m by no means an expert; I can stay afloat with an awkward, disjointed stroke, so it’s probably best if I stick to the shallow end for now.

Once I leave the room, I start tiptoeing again. I force myself to walk normal as I head out the sliding doors to the stone patio. I sneak over to the side, giddy as I dip my toes in the water only to have Stone speak up behind me. “It’s the perfect temperature today, if you ask me.”

I start, banging my foot on the concrete patio. Hissing in pain, I spin to find him lying on the half-moon bed, his hands behind his head.

He slowly peruses me, and my skin pricks with embarrassment. This is significantly less clothing than I’ve ever worn around other people. I groan inwardly. I was really looking forward to a relaxing evening, but I suppose I can’t tell the owner to fuck off while I do it. I didn’t even see him out here before.

He looks away, staring off over my shoulder to the mountains. If I’m not mistaken, he looks almost wistful. Without glancing my way again, he says, “Don’t let me bother you.”

I keep my snarky comment to myself. I’m not about to let him ruin the experience of my first time in a pool. I hate that I’m on display for him as I move toward the steps and slowly lower myself in. He’s right; the temperature is perfect. It’s just cool enough to be refreshing in the Arizona heat. The shallow end stops over my navel, so I sink down until my shoulders are covered. It feels so damn good, I drop my head back—knowing the chemicals are going to wreak havoc on my curls, but not caring in the slightest.

A sigh passes my lips. I close my eyes to soak it all in when a splash interrupts the moment and several droplets of water splatter onto my face. I open my eyes to find Stone breaking the surface, whipping his head back to get his blond hair out of his eyes. His easy strokes cut through the water. I sink lower and lower until it’s just my chin jutting above the ripples he’s making