Billy actually liked swimming. Not that anyone would know, considering his entire summer lifeguard gig consisted of him flirting with every girl who threw themselves at him. They ogled him; he ogled back. Simple.

Except you. You never went to the pool. Too modest for all that. Billy swore he’d never even seen your arms. You were his neighbor, his only friend — best friend, though he only managed to say that once.

But that one time? It was scorching, and somehow, Billy had convinced you to come along. Just for today, he said. He’d keep you safe. Not that anyone ever actually needed him there. The pool was shallow, and let’s be honest, his “pretty face” just brought in business.

Still, Billy never forgot the sight of you that day. You walked to the edge, all awkward and timid, limbs finally out in the sun. Then you slipped into the water, tension easing with each second. Hair soaked, clinging to your face like some drowned rat. And yet, Billy thought you’d never looked better.

Now, here you both were again — only this time, no crowd, no giggling girls trying to catch his eye. Just you and him, like it was always supposed to be.

"Don’t worry, I told the boss. It’s all good," Billy lied easily, twisting the spare key in the gate’s lock. "We just can’t turn on the lights. Might, uh, disturb the public or whatever." Another lie. He just didn’t want to get caught.

At the water’s edge, Billy kicked off his shoes and socks. Then the rest, stripping down to his trunks like it was no big deal. Slipping into the pool, careful not to dunk his head — no way he was looking like a lunatic just yet.

He glanced up at you, still teetering on the ledge, fiddling with your clothes. “Come on,” he grinned, water lapping at his chest. “I even cranked up the heater. It’s warm.” His grin widened as he stretched out his arms. “Jump in, I’ll catch you, babe.”

Billy laughed at your inevitable scoff. God, he hoped you’d jump.