It's after noon when I wake up, bathing in my own sweat. What's up with this place? Is it like a circle of hell? I'm still dressed, my leggings sticking to my legs as I peel them off and leave them on the ground. The hoodie is next, and I drop it somewhere along my way to the bathroom. I pass the thermostat, click the buttons until I hear the air conditioning whir above my head.
The shower stall is spotless, all glass and fogs up immediately as I let the hot water run. I strip and stand under the stream for a bit, forcing myself to make a decision.
Two more days.
Two days.
I have to make the most of it, see the city I planned on living in. Explore a little.
After my shower, I scan through the contents of my luggage and sigh when I remember I don't even own a bathing suit... Pulling on some cut-off shorts and a tank top, I gather my wet hair into a ponytail before I grab my purse and go downstairs.
It's hot but bearable in summer clothes, such an odd thing to wear in November. I'm used to stifling heat in New York summertime, but this makes me laugh a little as I remember Rose's Ugg's, just a few days before.
According to my phone's gps, there's an indie boutique a few blocks from the hotel, so I walk there.
When I enter, I note the racks upon racks filled with fringe, sequins and tie dye fabrics. There's an entire section of leather jackets and some branded posters all along the walls as vintage tracks play from an invisible sound system.
"Hi, can I help you find anything?" I'm about to answer when my heart threatens to jump out of my chest. It's her.
She's more beautiful up close, freckles scattered along tan, rosy cheeks that glow from within and gleaming, big green eyes that remind me of Masen's, except hers have specks of gold and blue. Her body is wrapped in a gold sheath dress that has fringes along the bottom and a plethora of straps crisscross over her chest. She's got legs for days that glimmer underneath her mini dress, high heeled platform mules on her feet.
"I— I..." I can't form a coherent sentence, her gaze friendly and ink impeccable, matching the deep black color of her hair.
"I'm looking for a swimsuit. For me. To wear." Gosh, Bella, you sound like an absolute idiot.
"Oh, great! We got a ton of those, they're right there in the far back corner. One-piece of bikini?" She throws over her freckled shoulder.
"Either is fine."
"You want to get that Miami tan? Than I'd suggest a two-piece, if you're gonna lie back in the sun. If you're going to a pool party or barbecue, you could go for a more dressy swimsuit." I didn't even know there was such a thing. Dressy swimsuit.
"I don't care. I just want to go down to the pool but I don't have a bathing suit."
Her eyes widen and she smirks. She looks so familiar.
"Seriously? You're not from here, are you?" Her fingers glide over the racks before she holds up a black, wet look bikini top. The matching bottoms are tiny, rivaling some of my most slutty pairs of underwear.
"No. I'm not. I came to visit a friend." I test the waters, test her. I want to pry but I'm scared to, scared he'll walk in at some point. See me.
"Oooh," her tone changes and she wiggles her brows. "Boyfriend? Or friend, friend?"
"Boyfriend." I blurt. Your boyfriend.
"Lucky man." She winks.
"I don't know about that... I think he's cheating on me."
She gasps. It's genuine.
"Oh, fuck no! Why would you think that?" She asks, dropping the hanger next to her body.
"I saw him with another woman. He looked... happy. She was prettier than I am." I shrug. Something strange is going on, because I kinda like her.
"Well, babe... don't jump to conclusions, but talk to him. I swear if my boyfriend did that, he'd be tied to a fucking chair for questioning. Polygraph and all."
"Oh, you have a boyfriend?" I smile, try not to seem bitter.
Her entire face lights up.
"I do... love of my fucking life." She sighs.
"Must be nice." I mutter my breath.
"Just try these on, size six, right?" She trusts swimsuit material in my hands and points me to the dressing room in the corner.
I try them on, they fit perfectly, to my wallet's dismay. The one piece is beautiful, oil slick, a halter neck and lacing down the cleavage, high cut legs. I've never seen such a small bikini on my body, but it looks good. It would drive Masen insane.
"Doing okay?" The girl shouts from outside the stall.
"Yeah, perfect."
"I'll be out here if you need me."
Fuck, why is she so fucking nice.