Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg) ✓

35. Midnight F*cking Rendezvous

       THE SWIMMING POOL WAS glowing. Actually glowing.

       I could see LED lights lining the rim of the pool, flashing from red to orange to yellow to green. A rainbow. In the light of a bright purple, I saw Monroe sitting on the edge, her legs dangling into the water.

       She was wearing . . . oh, God. God. She had already changed, and she wore a deep, knitted-green bikini that stood out against her tan skin. Her black hair had been twisted into a high ponytail, and the slender curve of her neck, the sharp edge of her jaw . . .

        What was that song called again? Heaven On Earth?

        "Hey," I called out. When I closed the door behind me, the bang echoed throughout the room.

        We were the only ones here, it was midnight, and I was on the verge of making some bad decisions.

       "Hey," said Monroe, grinning crookedly.

       "You're . . . here."

        What a stupid thing to say. But she didn't make fun of me. She just said, in that teasing voice, "I am. Are you coming?"

        Am I . . . my breathing quickened. Coming as in going into the pool, not coming as in . . . coming. Right. 

       "Yeah," I said, although my voice must have been shaky or nervous or too high, because she laughed.

       And slowly, with her eyes on me, I pulled up my shirt, tossing it into a ball on a nearby deck chair. Then I slipped out of my pants, sliding the loose fabric down my thighs. And when the material puddled on the tile, I stepped out of it.

       She watched me, a smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth, and stayed relaxed back against the pool's edge. When I approached, she slid in completely.

       My heart was beating fast. Too fast. I was worried she could hear the sound echoing, bouncing around the room—

       After a matter of seconds, Monroe resurfaced. Wet strands clung to the sharp line of her jaw, water beading on her tan skin, her long lashes. With both hands, she slicked back her dark hair—and her green eyes were so vibrant, so piercing, it forced me back just a step. She didn't even look human. 

       If someone had told me then that she was a goddess come down to earth, here to fool around and impregnate a mortal or two, I would have believed them whole-heartedly.

       "Talia?"

       "I'm coming," I squeaked. And winced at the word choice.

       I'd been expecting chill water, but the waves were so warm a soft sigh escaped me. Monroe watched me, eyes never leaving mine, as I settled into the pool with a splash.

       On opposite ends, neither of us moved.

       "Why—" I cleared my throat. "Why don't you use bandages or—or gauze, or whatever it's called? For your knuckles, when you . . ." Beat people unconscious in alleys. "Get into fights?"

       Fire, the colour of jade, blazed in her eyes. "I like it," she said, a bit roughly. "The pain. Reminds me."

       "Of what?"

       "Everything," she breathed, and I moved closer towards her. Bridging the pool-sized gap. "My parents. Who I was before the accident, and who I am now. I know some people like using pain to forget, but I . . . I guess it helps me remember. Keeps the wound raw, so I don't forget."