The Summer Deal

Five - The hot stranger with my butt-hugger.

I was feeling scandalous.

My rubber slippers slapped the marble floor as I slowly made my way to the indoor swimming pool. The corridors were dimly lit in orange without a soul in sight. Perfect. I squeezed my bathrobe tightly on my chest area, having second thoughts about my choice when the pool came in the line of my vision behind a glass door.

I swear I was in the right state of my mind. My neurons were in perfect working condition, and I didn't have a loose screw in my brain.

I wanted to do this. That temptation of doing something which could land me in trouble made my heart pump fast with adrenaline.

I swiped my keycard and twisted the handle to unlock the door. It didn't. I swiped again, twisted the handle again, and gave it a push. It didn't work. For the third time, I swiped my keycard, twisted the handle, and pulled it in my direction. The door rattled but didn't open. I pressed my face on the glass, groaning in frustration, looking for another solution. My eyes went down, and I banged my head when I saw a lock on the inside.

Fidgeting with the knot of my robe, I went down to the reception, where I saw a man sitting behind the desk... playing Candy Crush.

"Excuse me," I pressed the call bell on the desk three times. I was frustrated and annoyed for no reason. The man raised his head up, and he adjusted himself to professional mode. "That girl in the morning, the one who checked me in," it took me a moment to remember her name, "Kimberly, yes, Kimberly. She told me the pool was open at all hours, so why is it closed now?"

"Umm..." The man, whose name according to the tag, was Jose, typed something on the computer. It was pretty clear that Jose was not expecting to attend to a guest at 2 am in the morning. "... your name?"

"Sarah. Room 242-03D." I pressed my lips into a thin line. 24 was the floor, 2 for the West Wing, and 03D was the third Deluxe Suite. I was not in the mood to go through an identity check again. I needed answers and a swim. "You didn't answer me, Jose. Why is the pool not open?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, bowing his head slightly, "the cleaners must have locked it after doing their job. We usually don't expect guests to come down for a swim at this hour."

"Okay. But can you unlock it?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied, picking up the telephone. "Let me call the lifeguard to be on standby—"

"No!" I panicked. Oops. That came louder than I expected. Jose gave me a look that asked millions of questions. "I mean... no need to call somebody at this hour. I do not wish to disturb anybody. I know how to swim."

"It is our—"

"I am a professional swimmer," I told him. It wasn't a lie. I was a member of my swimming team back in my school days. I won a few medals too, and they were probably gathering rust in my parents' place. "I'll be quick. I just need a lap or two."

After a little more persuasion by me, Jose, the night receptionist, finally agreed and left me alone near the poolside with a blue rubber swim tube as a safety precaution. I sighed in contentment when I sat down and soaked my legs below my knees in the water after discarding my robe. And no, I was not bare as a newborn baby yet.

I took my sweet time removing the strings of my bikini top and submerged myself in the water to my neck.

"Oh my God. Oh my God," my teeth chattered, and I shivered when my bare skin touched the cold water. "This is madness. This is truly, utterly, pure madness." It took some time for my body to adjust to the pool's temperature, and when it finally did, I removed my bikini underwear and tossed it out of the water like a slingshot. It landed a few feet apart from my robe and top. I laughed at my silliness. "This is madness."