Chapter 14
Struggling to open my heavy eyelids, I pull the soft blanket over my shoulders, savoring its coziness. I stare blankly at the ceiling, the faint hum of the air conditioner filling the room. Mmm…comfy.
Oh shit. Something’s wrong.
Where’s my morning Wham? Why haven’t I been wakened up so I can go-go?
Panicked, I swipe my cell phone off the night table and check the time.
“Nine o’clock? Holy crap.” I shoot up into a sitting position, ready to bolt for the door. But then it hits me. I remember now. I turned off my alarm earlier and went back to sleep.
My new friend is holding a seat for me.
Well, I hope he is. His promise to save me a seat wasn’t some kind of elaborate scheme to leave me baking in the scorching sun all day again, was it? It’d be the ultimate payback for my past angry aggressiveness.
I roll my eyes at my own absurd thoughts. Daniel and I have moved past our initial bumpy start and reached a truce.
And we had that moment last night, the one that teetered between friendship and something else.
Something I’m not ready to think about. Something that woke up my senses, sent my pulse soaring, and the intimate parts of me begging for… action.
Hands, mouth, skin… naked action.
I look down at my phone screen, the bright white numbers illuminating the date. A knot tightens deep within my stomach and a sinking sensation weighs on my heart.
It’s one day until W-day.
In an instant, my newly awakened libido dies a quick death.
I’ve been fooling myself, trying to bury this date in the depths of my thoughts. In my heart, I knew it was impossible. It was always there, lingering. How could I forget what tomorrow is? Was? Would have been?
I feel a rush of tears, blurring my vision, as I clench my jaw to prevent it from quivering. I quickly glance at my suitcase, tucked away by the closet, and the pocket that holds the remnants of my old life. The life I never saw through.
I’m so damn mad.
And sad.
And glad.
I’m all the ads.
“No,” I say firmly, as I hastily wipe away the tears streaming down my cheeks with my hand. “He ruined my past. I refuse to let that bastard ruin my present.”
There’s a reason nostalgia starts with N-O.
My screen lights up, displaying a message icon. My friends back home have respected my need for space while I work out my emotions. There’s only one person who has never fully grasped the concept of space…
Mom
I read Mexico is renowned for its vanilla. Could you pick up a bottle for me?
Now she wants me to go grocery shopping for her?
Why?
Mom
For baking.
You don’t bake.
Mom
Maybe I would if I had good vanilla.
Don’t think it works that way.
Mom
I read that the scent of vanilla is a natural mood lifter. After you pick it up, you can dab some on your pulse points to keep your spirits up.
Her newly acquired vanilla obsession is making a little more sense.
I’m okay, Mom.
Mom
I know.
She doesn’t believe me. She’s probably sitting at her kitchen table right now, with tears in her eyes, and her heart breaking for me. I know she’d take my pain in a second. I feel the sting of tears in my eyes again.
My mother is the reason why I still believe in love. A different kind of love. Because it comes in different shapes and sizes. I may not have romantic love, no soulmate, no partner to make me smile at stupid jokes or give me butterflies when I hear his voice…
But I have her.
I’m heading to breakfast now.
I have to put an end to this before I lock myself in this room all day, drowning my sorrows in the mini-bar’s drinks and snacks, and torturing myself with a sad trombone app playing on a never-ending loop.
Mom
Good. I’m glad you’re going out.
Scary how much she knows me.
Don’t want to unleash hangry me on the good people of Mexico.
Mom
You certainly don’t! Love you!
Love you back!
Mom
Have some Greek yogurt. It’s full of probiotics. Great for gut health!
And with that, I log out of my messages and jump out of bed.
After indulging in another successful overgenerous breakfast alone, I enter the pool area to find my new best friend. The friend whose lips made my heart soar when they grazed my skin.
His soft, warm lips.
There’s a complicated tug of war happening inside my head right now.
One side is dragging out difficult memories and inserting them in my present. I glance down at my left hand, once adorned with a dazzling one-carat diamond ring. I was floating on cloud nine, consumed by the joy of planning our big day—my beautiful dress, the menu, the flowers… all the way down to the perfect wedding cake.
But things came to a crashing halt.
And that decadent cake I chose—Death by Chocolate, turned into Death by Disobedient Dick.
Matt sucks.
Today would have been our wedding rehearsal. We planned a small dinner afterwards at the resort’s Mexican Restaurant with our wedding party and parents present. A festive pre-celebration filled with margaritas, toasts about forever love, well wishes, and superstitious goodbyes before midnight.
The other side of my brain is pulling me in a different direction. It clings tightly to the betrayal and humiliation that crushed my life. It reminds me of the isolation that’s gripped me since Matt left. The endless ache and grief that still lies inside me, that changed me… became a part of me. Frustration, hurt, and anger are a constant presence, unyielding and unrelenting. No matter how hard I try to let it go.
The day I found out that the person I thought was my soulmate didn’t have a soul at all was the worst day of my life.
But the side that houses all this pain also holds on to a small piece of… I don’t know…
Hope?
Since I’ve been here, I’ve witnessed tiny glimmers of it. I’ve smiled more than I thought possible. The fact that I’ve smiled at all is a miracle. I’ve experienced genuine moments of laughter, temporarily forgetting the painful circumstances that led me to this place.
All because of…
“Good morning,” I greet Daniel, unable to tear my eyes away from his sculpted, bare chest as he lounges in our shady spot, engrossed in his magazine.
A mucho, mucho caliente Daniel.
My Spanish is improving.
And my libido may not be entirely dead after all.
He lifts his eyes from his magazine, fixating his gaze on my face, before leisurely scanning my body.
“Did you just check me out?” I ask indignantly.
“Yes.” A flirtatious smile plays on his lips, igniting a flurry of sensations within me.
“Well…” Flustered, my cheeks heat up. “Mind your business.”
“Good morning to you.” His smile widens. My rattled state seems to amuse him.
“Is that seat taken?” I gesture towards the empty chair next to him with his towel and baseball cap on it.
“Yes. By a friend of mine with a wall divider obsession.”
“I’m sure your friend has good reason to need that wall.”
“Maybe.” He smirks. “Or maybe she’s crazy.”
“You know what they say… takes one to know one.”
“Touché.” He extends his arm, gesturing for me to have a seat in the vacated lounger.
I plop down in my chair. “Thanks for doing this,” I tell him with gratitude, as I reach into my beach bag, feeling around the bottom for my bottle of suntan lotion. I find it nestled between two bags of potato chips and a bottle of water I swiped from the mini-bar in my room.
“I like the company,” he says, his voice warm and inviting.
I wait for a punchline, a snicker, a snide remark, a sarcastic comment. But there’s none.
It’s simply an honest statement.
“I like the company too,” I confess, grappling with the warm and fuzzy feelings elbowing their way into my heart.
He raises a sly brow, trying and failing miserably to hide a smile.
“Most of the time,” I playfully add.
“I’ll take that as a win,” he answers, his voice laced with satisfaction.
“So,” I ask while slathering coconut-scented 50 SPF lotion on my arms. “What time did you get here?”
“Eight.”
“On purpose?”
He chuckles. “Yes.”
“And you ate breakfast before that?”
“And ran a 5K.”
“For someone on vacation, you wake up and do things ridiculously early. I was still dead to the world.”
“I enjoy the peace and quiet. And it gives me the opportunity to capture the sunrise over the water with my camera.”
“That sounds nice. I’d love to see the sunrise too. What time does the sun come up in Playa del Carmen?”
“About six o’clock.”
“That early?” I frown. “Can you show me your photos instead?”
He chuckles. “Six isn’t early.”
“It is when you’re on vacation.” I squeeze a dollop of lotion into my palm, contort my arm behind my neck, and struggle to slather up my back. “Ugh.”
“Something wrong?”
“I can’t reach between my shoulder blades.”
“Do you want some help?” he asks.
Do I want Daniel’s hands on my naked skin? Hell yeah.
Do I think it’s a good idea? Hell no.
“Sure. If you don’t mind. The sun has a knack for finding me, even in the shade,” I reply.
He straightens himself up, his legs straddling his lounger. “Sit in front of me.”
I join him, careful to avert my gaze from his now spread-opened and center-stage crotch. Seated at the edge of his chair, I keep my legs tightly squeezed together, vigilant not to accidentally brush against his muscular, toned legs or any part of him.
Should I hold my breath too? Who knows what I might do if his pheromones are wafting in our shared airspace?
“Tess?”
“Yes?” I answer, my voice slightly breathless.
“The suntan lotion?” he asks, his hand outstretched.
“Oh, duh. Here.” I snap myself out of my ‘Don’t Touch Daniel’ thoughts and place the tube in his waiting hand.
His fingers brush gently across my back as he sweeps my hair to the side. A shiver runs down my spine at the contact. I haven’t felt the touch of a man in a long time. A long, long time. I brace myself as I hear the unmistakable sound of the lotion squirting into his hands.
I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensations as two warm, soft hands glide over my skin. They move up and down, in circles, spreading the creamy lotion across my back.
The fact that the thin string of my bikini top is the only barrier between me and being topless is arousing. I can’t help but imagine him slowly pulling the string, untying my top, and slipping it off. I’d lean back into his chest as his firm hands glide around my sides until he’s cupping my breasts, his thumbs stroking my hardened nipples. And the kisses… featherlight against my warmed skin.
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I try to ignore the tingling sensations traveling south. I want to turn around, straddle him, and give in to the desire that’s building inside me. I want to grab his face, pull him closer, and…
“Okay. You’re good,” he interrupts, his voice bringing me back to reality.
“Oh. Um. Thanks,” I stammer, quickly sliding off his chair, relieved that he’s unaware of the illicit thoughts racing through my mind as I hastily return to my lounger.
Whatever that was can never happen again.
Next time…
I’ll risk the sunburn.