Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
On my way out of the lounge, I check the day’s schedule, breathing a sigh of relief that I’ve been assigned the gym/pool section of the resort.
Surely Tripp Sterling will be out on the beach all day with his friends and not inside working out or swimming in the Olympic-size pool. It is another beautiful day on the coast, after all, and there are activities aplenty planned for the influx of college students. A live DJ, masseuses, dancing, caviar, and champagne.
I set loose my wild ponytail and secure my hair in a strict braid before taking my personal employee clipboard out of its rack to begin the journey across the sprawling resort to the state-of-the-art gym, complete with a Pilates studio, trainers, and award-winning day spa. Reserve is the kind of place where I can’t even imagine myself going on vacation. It’s far too decadent.
If I had the money to travel, I would visit the Atacama Desert in Chile, where the night sky is clear and ripe for viewing the stars. Or maybe I’d go explore the Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon in Iceland.
Reserve is beautiful in its own way, but not the kind of beautiful that steals my breath.
No, I’ll discover those places someday. After college. Once I find my place in the world and pay Aunt Peggy back for her kindness.
As expected for a Saturday afternoon, the gym is rather full. Influencers film videos working out and it’s a challenge to stay out of the background, but I do my best, trying to remain invisible while replacing towels, replenishing the lemon water and cups, and cleaning off machines and yoga mats.
Next, I go to the indoor pool and make sure all the lounge chairs are facing the exact same angle, clearing away bottles and breakfast cartons guests left behind. One guest complains that the enclosure is too hot, so I radio Guest Services to adjust the thermostat. Another male guest in lime green swim trunks asks if I’m wearing a bathing suit under my uniform and, if so, if I’d be willing to give his child a swimming lesson.
His eyes roam over my body suggestively, but somehow, I manage to keep the disgust off my face and politely explain that I have been assigned my duties for the day and can’t deviate.
Wanting to keep my distance, I return to the gym for another round of cleaning…
And I draw up short at the entrance to the facility because Tripp Sterling is there.
He’s deadlifting an enormous amount of weight in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but a pair of loose, black sweatpants and those oversized headphones he was wearing the first time I saw him. His brows are drawn together in deep concentration, his broad chest, back, and arms in an unholy trinity of flexing that twists my tummy into a knot.
I step back and hide myself partially behind the door frame, observing as two friends approach Tripp, slapping him on his sweaty back when his set is over.
“You’re putting us to shame, man,” a young man with golden blond curls says. “But I guess you’ve got to put in the work to retain the captainship this year.”
“Yeah,” the second guy, a man with deep brown skin who is currently flexing in the mirror, agrees. “Yale lacrosse is fucking cutthroat. Someone is always angling to take your job.”
Yale.
Tripp Sterling goes to Yale.
My dream school, which rejected me.
“If someone makes a better captain than me, they’re welcome to it,” Tripp says absently, crouching down to grip the bars and begin his next set.
“Ah, come on, bro. You know you’ve got that spot locked down.” More backslapping. “Our fearless leader!”
Tripp flashes them a grateful smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right.”
I can’t put off entering the gym any longer. Oh God. I force my jelly legs to start moving, but I keep to the wall, scurrying behind influencers and gym bros, beelining for the towel discard area that has begun piling up. Grabbing an armful of white, sweaty terrycloth, I turn on a heel and break for the hidden laundry room on the other side of the wall.
But not before I make eye contact with Tripp in the mirror.
He ceases all movement, his chest heaving, a thick lump moving up and down in his strong throat. His friends follow his line of sight with raised eyebrows, punching each other when they see who Tripp is looking at.
I don’t wait around to hear what they’re going to say about me, though. Or how Tripp will respond.
I simply close myself in the laundry room and lean back against the door.
Trying not to think about how his fingers felt tucked inside me.
FOUR
Tripp
Shit, I can’t fucking breathe.
My heart is going a mile a minute.
I only saw Vida for four seconds and it’s like a bomb has been thrown into the still pond of my existence. She was incredibly sexy in the near-darkness of my room yesterday, but in the light, she is hunger-inducing. Mouthwatering. Innocent in a way that shouldn’t get me so hot, but it does.