"To swimming."
I hit him with my elbow. "Or I'm just trying to get you to swim. I still can't believe you've had this house for a year and never taken a dip in your pool."
"Well, I'm rarely here." He cuts into a piece of toast, the swell of his bicep flexing with the movement. "I think this is the fourth time I've been in the house since I bought it."
I put my fork and knife down. "The fourth time?"
"Yes," he says. "I told you how much I hate this place."
"No, you said it was your biggest concession. It's a beautiful place. The beach, the pool…"
He makes a dismissive sound and polishes off the last of his breakfast. Reaches for his coffee. "All of which I won't be able to see one day. This ocean view is a complete waste, and it probably accounts for more than half the value of this place."
"The view, perhaps, but you'll still be able to enjoy the beach when you can't see it." I almost stumble over the words, but they make it out in one piece. "You don't need your eyes to swim, and listening to the waves is lovely."
"I suppose so."
"How did your family and friends respond? Are they supportive?"
He pushes his plate away and turns on the chair, an eyebrow raised at me.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Was that an insensitive question? I'm really sorry."
Anthony shakes his head. "I'm not hurt," he says. "I'm just wondering how you'll fit in all your swimming if you're planning on spending the day asking me every blind question under the sun."
"Every blind question under the sun?"
"Yes." He picks up the last piece of toast from my plate and feeds it to me, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. "If I can choose between swimming, fucking you and talking about my vision, I know which one I'll rank last."
"Well, when you put it that way…"
"Can I just ask you one last question before we head out into the sun?"
Anthony sighs, but doesn't object, turning my chair to face him. Skilled hands move over the two buttons on my shirt I'd managed to close. "I'll endure it," he says.
"Do you have a bucket list of your own? With things you want to see before it happens?"
He opens his own old button-down I'm wearing. Smooths his fingers over one of my breasts, his gaze on the nipple he's teasing into hardness between his fingers.
"No," he says, and the tone of his voice makes it clear the conversation is over. "Until I do, though, I intend to enjoy myself."
I slide off the stool and slip the shirt from my shoulders, intent on helping him do just that.
I cut through the warm, smooth water of the infinity pool to where he's lounging on the steps. His arms are on the edge of the pool, eyes closed, tilted up to the sun.
"You look like a lizard," I tell him. "Soaking up the rays."
"And you look like a siren," he responds, not opening his eyes. "Sing for me as well and I'll be lost here forever."
I grin. Shoot a glance to where my discarded bikini top rests on the lounge chair. "I'm not sure I want you to drown yet. I'm not done with you."
"Thank God," he says, "because I'm sure as hell not done with you."
I turn onto my back and float, the clouds dancing above us across the azure sky. This place is a private, privileged paradise, and as much as I love my apartment in the city, not a single part of me looks forward to leaving.
"Have you given those singing lessons of yours any more thought?" he asks.
I close my eyes. "No."
"Will you sing for me now?"
"Probably not."
"So I'll have to camp outside your shower. Good to know."
Laughing, I turn over and swim toward him, my strokes splitting the water. "You really liked it that much?"
"Yes. I've never known anyone who could sing. Can't remember the last time I went to a concert, either." He runs a hand through his wet hair. The sun has begun to darken his olive skin, hinting at the deep tan he'd have after a week of this.
"Well, who knows," I say. "If we put on some good music in the car on the way back home…"
He reaches for me and I settle on his lap, the water divine and temperate around us. It laps in soft waves over my exposed breasts and Anthony looks down, a soft half-smile on his face.
"Good thing you advised me to take my top off," I say. "Thanks for reminding me of the dangers of tan lines."
"I'm nothing if not altruistic." His hand cups my left breast, nearly covering it whole.
"Of course you are."
"I'm so generous, in fact, that I might just book you in for an open mic night without telling you."
"No, Anthony, you wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" He raises a dark eyebrow and meets my gaze. "You know, I'd very much like to have a word with that idiot ex of yours."
"He's not worth it."
"You're absolutely right he isn't," Anthony says, pulling me closer. I rest my cheek against his sun-warmed shoulder, his hand moving in soft sweeps over my bare back. I close my eyes and bask in the closeness.
It's a long time before he speaks again. I can feel the rumble of his voice through his chest and into mine. "I hated Ace when I first met him."
I turn my head to where my dog is resting in the shade, his tongue half-out and eyes closed.
"I noticed," I murmur.
"And then you told me he'd originally been trained as a guide dog," he says. "What are the fucking odds?"
I link my hands behind his neck and lean back. Meet his gaze. "Is that something you've ever-?"