But now, it's just one of those things. Like "don't think about pink elephants." The harder I try to forget, the harder it is to shake.
***
When I get back, Adrian's not in his office. I'm momentarily stumped. Normally, if someone needs to know where he is, I'm the one they ask. I try calling the main floor receptionist, and while she's not sure, she thinks he might be in the gym.
Well, that makes sense.
I haven't set foot in there since I was hired. I prefer to work out at home, away from judgmental eyes, especially if those eyes might belong to a coworker. Or my boss. I don't know what Adrian would say to me if he saw my routine, but I'm sure I'm doing it all wrong.
The place is huge. I'm very aware of the clack, clack, clack of my shoes as I walk through the equipment room and scan for him. Of course, he might be showering or getting dressed, in which case I'll just have to wait.
Showering. So. There's a really good chance that Adrian Risinger has been naked in this very building, where I come in and work every day.
That's not a thought I need to be having right now.
I recognize one of the guys from I.T. on a treadmill as I pass, so I give him a little wave.
"Hey," he pants, pulling out his earpiece. "What's up?"
"Have you seen Mr. Risinger?"
He jerks his thumb towards the double doors in the back of the room. "Pool, I think."
Well, shit.
"Thanks," I tell him, steeling myself.
It has been way, way, way too long since I indulged in a little harmless self-gratification. I still don't dare, lest I think about things I don't want to think about. Such as - well, exactly what I'm about to walk in and see.
Oh, for God's sake. Just go in there like a normal person and give him his credit card.
When I push the doors open, I'm actually looking forward to being slapped in the face with the warm, nauseating smell of chlorine. But it doesn't happen. I keep walking towards the massive pool, mindful of my completely traction-less shoes, keeping my eyes on the floor to avoid any puddles.
I can tell from the noise that he's swimming laps. Closing my eyes, I remember the feeling, the rushing sound that was somehow better than silence. The comforting glide of the water against my skin.
In spite of my better judgement, I open my eyes and I look at him.
He cuts through the water like a shark, each powerful stroke propelling him forward, the muscles in his arms and back tensing, reaching, under tanned and glistening skin.
This was a big mistake.
If he comes out of the water, he'll see me. I need to leave. I need to just turn around and -
His hand grasps the wall, just a few feet away from me. His head pops up a moment later, and he shakes the water out of his hair, swiping his fingers across his eyes and blinking rapidly.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He smiles at me, and I'm digging my fingernails into my palms.
"I was just…"
"Bringing me my credit card. I know." He gestures at a pile of clothes, neatly folded on one of the tables in the corner. "My stuff's over there. You could have just left it in my office."
"Didn't want to risk it getting stolen," I mutter, staring at my shoes, but I can still see his wet forearms resting on the side of the pool, so it's not really helping.
He snorts. "If there's someone at this company with enough balls to steal my credit card, I want to meet them. And promote them immediately." I can feel his eyes on me while I go and set his card down on top of his shirt. It smells like him. A cologne that's somehow sharp and little bit sweet, something I've never smelled before or since, on anyone but him.
"You know you can come here anytime, and swim," he says. "It's very nice. Saline instead of chlorine. You can open your eyes, and it doesn't hurt."
"Good to know." I should be walking to the door, but I'm not. He's looking at me with mischief in his eyes. "Don't you dare try to splash me."
"Splash you?" He touches his chest. "Me? Please. I was just trying to figure out how many counts of harassment you'd be able to file against me if I picked you up and threw you in."
I burst out laughing in spite of myself. "Just one, I imagine."
"No, I mean, cumulatively. I'm imaging some kind of 'straw that broke the camel's back' type of situation." He cocks his head. "Of course now I've ruined the element of surprise."
"Well, damn. Better luck next time." I'm trying to think of a reason to stay. I'm trying to think of a reason to leave. They're both coming up blank, and Adrian looks damn good with his hair slicked back.
"I can get you another swipe card, if you lost yours," he says. "I'm just saying."
I shake my head. "Why are you so obsessed with the issue of my pool access, all of a sudden? If you want to improve my working environment, I've got about a million suggestions that are higher up on the list."
He breaks into a wicked grin. "I'll bet you do. But I know you like to swim. You've got that trophy on your desk."
So I do. It's been there so long, I've been there so long, it just blends into the background. "Yeah, well, that was a long time ago."
"No one spontaneously starts to hate swimming, unless they almost drowned. And if you almost drowned, you wouldn't keep your swim meet trophy on your desk." He makes a voila sort of gesture.
"Wow. Great. You're like Columbo." I shift my weight from one foot to the other, but that doesn't really help the tingle between my legs. "Maybe I just don't have the time or energy, because my boss is a crazy person."
"You're not working now," he points out.
"Yeah, but I should be."
He laughs a little. "I'll give you two weeks of paid vacation if you get in right now."
Gaping at him, I shake my head. "What?"
"You heard me." He lifts two fingers. "Extra. Paid. As soon as the signing and the conference are over, before the busy season starts again. Just get in the pool splash around a little. Unless you're too scared."
My lips curl into a thin line. "I'm not scared," I insist.
"Good, then you have no reason not to do it." His eyes sparkle. "I'll be happy to actually get out and throw you in, if that'll make it easier."
"Right," I mutter. "You're going to pick me up."
Something dark flashes across his face, but it passes quickly. "That sounds an awful lot like a challenge."
"Trust me, you don't want to hurt yourself."
He frowns. "I'm not sure which one of us you're trying to insult, but if it's you, I'll kindly ask you to back off. That's my job."