Chapter 19
My eyes spring open to ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go Go’ for what’s probably the ten billionth time. Sitting up, I stretch my arms over my head and exhale a long, sleepy yawn. As I fully awaken, my heart becomes heavy with the realization of what today is.
There’ll be no promises to love, honor, or cherish. No gold rings exchanged. No picking rice out of my hair after it was thrown.
It’s another day. Or in my case—the day a wedding wasn’t meant to be.
I sit in silence, my gaze fixed on the beach scene art hung on the wall. I can’t bring myself to touch the sand since I’ve been here, observing it only from the safe distance of my balcony.
The beach was supposed to be the site of our ceremony. A beautiful driftwood arch, adorned with pink and white hibiscus flowers and white tulle, would be positioned before six rows of friends and family who traveled to celebrate our big day.
I should have seen it coming. I should have known.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
There were signs everywhere, subtle shifts in his behavior that I chose to ignore. He stopped touching me, the little touches… a hand on my waist when we talked, a glance across the room that let me know he knew he was the luckiest man in the world, whispering a private joke in my ear… it all stopped.
I chalked it up to normal wedding jitters.
When I look back now, I realize there was always something he held back. I knew. Deep down, I knew. He didn’t give me all of him, only the parts he’d let me see.
He kept the rest for his friends.
And her. She got what I needed—what should have been mine.
Then I learned the truth about the man I was about to pledge my forever to.
They say all good things must come to an end. But Matt and I weren’t good. Far from it. I know that now. We were a couple, but never friends. Then we ended. And life went on.
I thought I’d be sadder than I am.
Madder than I am.
But I’m not.
Indifferent, a little. Humiliated, still. Wounded, indefinitely.
But for the first time in months, I’m hopeful. All because of a man who’s probably at the pool, laying towels out on two lounge chairs right now. A man who has coaxed more smiles out of me in a few days than I have in four months combined. The man whose kiss I long for, whose touch I yearn.
As for that hole of asses, Matt—he can bury himself in the sand and stay there. I’m done pining over memories that weren’t meant to be.
My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my unhealthy headspace. Accepting that I have to get it over with, I grab it off the nightstand and read the text I knew would come.
Mom
I know today is hard. But hard days pass.
Mom
And you get a better one.
Mom
You are the best daughter any mother could ever have. I love you.
I re-read her texts three times as my eyes fill with tears. Matt didn’t just cheat on me, he cheated on her. He deceived everyone who loved us.
I’m not the only one who lost something when we ended.
My mother loved him like a son—and he broke her like a stranger.
If he was unhappy, unfulfilled, he could have left—without the ugliness of his lies, without sneaking around, without the betrayal. But he was selfish. A coward without a thought about the destruction his actions left behind.
My battered pride. My broken heart.
And hers.
I love you too. Even when you’re a pain in the ass.
Mom
I’m letting that comment slide because of the day. But since you mentioned pain in the ass, be sure to take advantage of the Mexican cuisine and eat plenty of avocados to prevent constipation.
Really? Today, of all days, this is what you want to say to me?
Mom
Put your trust in time. It will heal your heart. In the meantime, you can’t ignore the rest of your body. A proper diet and good fats benefit optimum gut health.
I shake my head, surprisingly amused. I know what she’s doing. Instead of going into a sad, mad, and gloomy tirade like I expected, she’s treating today like any other day by showcasing her crazy. It’s an interesting angle, but one I appreciate.
Daniel may think I’m a nut, but he’s never met the tree I fell from.
Thanks, Mom.
Mom
For what?
I choke up. Tears spring in my eyes again.
For everything.
There’s a long pause. I know she’s tearing up, too.
Don’t cry.
I wipe the tears rolling down my cheeks with the back of my hand.
Mom
I’m not crying.
She’s lying. My father probably has his arm wrapped around her right now, consoling her.
I’m going to go to breakfast now.
Mom
Are you going with any of your new friends?
She’s referring to the hundreds of people I pretended to meet. I don’t want her to picture me eating alone today, so I throw her a bone.
Yes.
Mom
Really? Who?
Am I going to tell her about Daniel? Nope. Nuh-uh. Not a chance. I pull out the only two names I can think of out of thin air.
Lily and Coco. We met on the plane.
Partially true.
Mom
That’s wonderful.
I’m running late. I gotta go. Talk to you soon.
Mom
Have fun, sweetie.
I click out of our conversation, stare at my ringless left hand, and exhale a shaky breath.
This will be a good day.
This will be a good day.
This will be a good day.
I didn’t think it was possible, but my nerves have infiltrated my appetite. When that philandering fool and I imploded, I took comfort in food. But this morning, I skipped the huevos ranchos and could only stomach one helping of chilaquiles.
That’s a lie… it was three again.
But it was a significantly smaller third helping.
I passed on the mimosas because I don’t need my belly bubbling any more than it already is.
My stomach flips as I approach the pool area. Eager to stare into Daniel’s brilliant blue eyes, listen to his witty views, soak in that gorgeous smile that brightens my mood…
And to feel his lips on mine.
Through the sea of sun worshippers, I spot him reading a newspaper on a lounge chair. His shirt is off, showing off his toned body. A lusciously edible man-snack.
Pursing my lips to prevent my smile from outshining the sun, I approach our lounge chairs. I stop at the end of the towel covered lounger next to him and cock my head to the side. My pulse races as he flips up his aviators. His gaze drifts slowly from my legs up to my face.
“Excuse me. Is this chair taken?” I ask, batting my lashes.
“Now it is.” His voice is silky smooth.
Plopping my beach bag on the foot of the lounger, I remove my coverup, revealing a risqué black bikini. I don’t have to look to know he’s checking me out. My body tingles at the thought.
I like this. Being appreciated. The object of lust. It’s been so long since I felt wanted.
Since I felt sexy.
Desired.
I settle myself in my chair, then turn to him. “Thanks again for doing this.”
“I’m a sucker for those batting eyelashes,” he jokes. “And I enjoy your company.”
“I enjoy yours too.”
“Did you have a good breakfast?” he asks courteously.
“I did. You?”
“I did.”
“Did you run today?” I ask.
“At the crack of dawn.”
“Was it hot out?”
“It was bearable.”
Our polite chitchat masks our nerves. Or maybe it’s excitement.
Or impatience.
The anticipation of a kiss hangs over us. It’s like I’m thirteen all over again, figuring out if the boy I have a crush on feels the same way. In my mind, right now I’m sitting in a circle during a game of spin the bottle, secretly hoping the bottle he whirls points at me.
Daniel had a night to change his mind.
I’d be crushed if he did.
Glancing at me with an amused smirk, he gives me a quick wink. An exhilarating thrill passes through me.
He’s still in.
I dig into my beach bag and pull out my suntan lotion. Squirting a dollop in my palm, I spread the lotion on my sun-heated skin. Again, I struggle to reach around my back.
“Do you need help?” he asks.
Buddy, you have no idea.
“Sure,” I say nonchalantly.
He scoots back on his lounger, his legs straddle the sides, and he taps the open space in front of him. “Have a seat.”
As casually as I can manage, I stand, hand him the tube of suntan lotion, and take my place between his legs. Breathless and anxious, I eagerly await his touch.
His hands, with their warm and perfect touch, glide against my skin, sending a tingling sensation coursing through me. I know I shouldn’t allow myself to get aroused, but my body doesn’t care what my mind tells it. His touch stirs things inside me.
My brain may be the pillar of virtue—but the rest of me leans toward the sluttier side.
It’s taking everything in my power not to turn around, grab his handsome face, and claim that promised kiss. I straighten my posture, trying to replace the vision of his lips with something on the opposite side of the hot and sexy spectrum.
Where the hell is Walter when I need him?
“Are you okay? You just tensed up,” Daniel asks, interrupting my dirty thoughts.
“Fine. I’m fine.”
His hand glides down from the top of my back to between my shoulder blades. His touch is exquisite. Should I ask him to lotion up my front side? Nah, that’s a little too obvious.
Okay, a lot obvious.
Is a little innocent groping between new friends wrong? If it is, my resurrected libido is unconcerned.
My brain is another story.
He continues to caress my back, and I bite the inside of my cheek to conceal my delight. My back is not that wide. There’s no way he’s not done lotioning me up.
And I realize…
He’s enjoying this too. The touching. Skin on skin. Our close proximity.
For the first time in a long, long time, it feels like I’ve regained some of the power betrayal stole from me.
I’m affecting him. I know it. He wants me more than a kiss too.
“Daniel?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you done?” I ask, my smile growing wider.
His hands freeze in their place. Quickly, he removes them from my backside. “Yup, just finished.”
Liar.
“Thank you,” I say as I return to my lounge chair.
“Thank you,” he says back.
“For what?”
He shakes his head, tightly pressing his lips together.
“That’s not an answer,” I tell him.
“You may not want to know my answer,” he teases.
“Try me.”
“I’d like to,” he says, giving me a quick wink.
“Oh my God. Did you just come on to me?”
“Yes.” His brazenness is wickedly attractive.
“I… Umm,” I stumble over my words, attempting to maintain a stern expression. “Behave yourself.”
“Is that what you really want?” he asks, his tone dripping in sensuality.
No.
I want Hot. Wet. Tongue.
“Where’s Walter?” Chickening out of what’s becoming a dangerous conversation, I steer it to the opposite of sexy.
He chuckles, aware of what I’m blatantly attempting. “Standing near the Activities Hut.”
“Before I look, I need to prepare myself. How’s the sultan situation?”
“Swinging in fluorescent pink.”
I peek at the Activities Hut and spot Walter wearing a T-shirt with “Jiggly Bits Below” written across with a giant red arrow pointing south, and a size-too-small swim brief. He’s trying on a pair of goggles, his junk swaying like a saggy, pink pendulum ready to pop out of the case.
I wish I could say it killed my libido, but I steal a glance at Daniel’s profile and realize… Nothing can stop my wanting him.
“That pink is a lot,” I say.
“Turning you on?”
“Oh yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Desperately.”
“Is that so?” He lifts a quizzical brow. “Maybe I should get myself a pair.”
“I’d love to see that,” I tease.
“I bet you would.”
I shake my head, amused. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly captivated, maybe.”
“Captivated by what?” I ask.
Say me. Say me. Say me.
“You.”
You. Yeah, that’s what I meant.
My cheeks flush and my heart rate increases.
“Oh,” I mumble.
Eloquent, I know.
“I’m getting a bottled water. Want one?” he asks matter-of-factly, like he didn’t just spill some massive information on my lap.
What I want is you.
“Sure,” I answer coolly.
For over an hour, we’re immersed in our own things in comfortable silence. Daniel’s reading some magazine about photography. I’m deep into Wicked Temptation. And things are getting heated. The author must have written this book with a vibrator strapped between her legs, because it’s bursting with hot, horny, endless, that-girl’s-gonna-be-sore-for-weeks sex.
“How’s your book?” he asks.
“It’s alright,” I answer casually, ignoring the fact that I’m about a paragraph away from penetration and my visual for the hero looks exactly like the man sitting next to me.
“Only alright?” He arches a curious brow.
What am I supposed to say? It’s hot as fuck. The dude has a perpetual twelve-inch hard-on and loves going down on the girl before his morning coffee.
“It’s good.”
“Can I see it?” he asks.
“The book?”
“Yeah. I want to read a sample. I’m curious to see what you like to read.”
“Why?”
“You can learn a lot about a person by what they read on their own time.”
“You want to learn more about me?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what people do when they’re interested in each other.”
“And you’re interested in me?” I ask, unable to conceal the hope in my voice.
“I think we’ve already established that.”
A thrill runs through me as joy blooms in my healing heart. He doesn’t play games or leave me guessing. He flat out says it.
“I’d like to learn more about you too,” I admit. “Even the parts that annoy me.”
“You mispronounced astound. Awaken would be an acceptable substitute,” he teases, extending his hand. “The book, please.”
“You really are crazy. Here.” Shaking my head with a grin, I place it in his outstretched hand. “Be careful what you wish for. Start at the bookmarked page.”
He cracks the book open and begins reading. I don’t know whether to laugh or hide.
After a few minutes, my curiosity gets the better of me.
“So, what do you think…” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.
“Hold on,” he says, raising his index finger. “I want to read that paragraph again.”
I watch with amusement as his brows furrow, his eyes scanning the words on the page. He peeks over the book, his gaze meeting mine. “Is she a gymnast?”
I chuckle softly. “No.”
“Contortionist?”
“No.” I shake my head, a smile playing on my lips.
He turns his attention back to the page, his face a mix of concentration and intrigue. With a deep breath, he exhales slowly.
“The guy…is he a porn star?” he asks.
“No.”
“He fucks like one.”
Naughty tingles invade my body. It may not be dirty talk directed to me, but it’s the closest I’ve come to it in months.
“That’s a small sample of a beautiful tale of romance,” I tell him.
“Is that what you like?” he asks, his eyes locked with mine.
Does he mean the book or that kind of frenzied sex? Because the answer to both is an emphatic hell yeah.
“Romance?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“In fiction, I guess.”
“Not in real life?” he asks.
“Romance hasn’t exactly been kind to me,” I confess.
He gazes at me thoughtfully, his eyes searching mine. “Maybe,” he says softly as he closes the book in his hands, “you haven’t been romanced by the right person.”
I don’t want to talk about this. Especially today.
“How about a cocktail?” I suggest, attempting to change the subject.
“Sure. The usual?”
“What is it—a thousand and fifty degrees out here?” I ask, beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
“Too hot for you?”
“Let’s put it this way—if I had a lump of clay, I wouldn’t need a kiln to fire the vase I just created.”
“I was about to take a dip in the pool. Care to join me?”
“Okay.”
“Come on.” Daniel stands, extending his hand towards me. I place my hand in his. My pulse races as he curls his fingers around mine and pulls me to my feet.
This feels right…
On the wrongest of days.
I push the thought out of my mind. Stay in the present, Tess.
We reach the perimeter of the pool, the sight of the shimmering water bringing anticipated relief to my overheated body. Daniel releases my hand and jumps in. Emerging from under the water, he flicks the droplets off his face, his eyes meeting mine. “Jump in. It’ll cool you right down.”
“Give me a minute.” I sit on the edge, carefully lowering myself into the pool, little by little.
“Are you eighty years old?”
“Oh, shush.” I scowl as I immerse my body up to my shoulders into the warm water, keeping my hair safely dry.
“You’ll cool down faster if you wet your hair.”
“Wet my hair? Surely, you jest.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “It looks like all the morning towel gamers are also pool float hoarders. I can either steal one back, because I hate that shit. Or…” he trails off, leaving the option hanging in the air.
“Or what?”
“You can get behind me and grab hold of my shoulders. I’ll drag you through the water and protect your hair.”
“How chivalrous.”
“Not always. If you’re lucky, I’ll show you my more villainous side later.”
“Promises, promises,” I scoff. “Is dragging me through the water part of your promised wooing?”
“Are you wooed?” He turns his back to me, crosses his hand across his chest, and taps his shoulder on the opposite side. “Hop on.”
“Maybe.” Slowly, I place my hands on his muscular shoulders. His wet skin is warm and smooth. Daniel obviously hits the gym. Often.
“Ready?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Ready.”
Wading through the water at a leisurely pace, he pulls me behind him. I hold on to him like he’s my lifeline… because, in a way, he is. In this short time, this annoyingly charming man has kept me afloat. In the pool. And in my heart.
“I had a good day today,” he shares with me as we walk up the stairway in our building and head back to our rooms.
“Me too.”
“I plan on having a better night,” he says, a mischievous tone lacing his words.
“Really? What are you doing?” I tease.
“Having dinner with the prettiest girl in all of Mexico.”
“Oh, stop,” I say, feeling a rush of embarrassment. With a dismissive wave of my hand, I purposefully avoid his gaze.
“Every man who sees you tonight is going to envy me.”
“I think you’re exaggerating.”
“You have no idea how incredible you are, Tess. That makes you infinitely more incredible. And your high standards make you ridiculously attractive.”
“How do you know I have high standards?”
“You agreed to have dinner with me.”
“Maybe I’m being charitable.”
He laughs, his warm laughter filling the air. “Maybe.”
“What restaurant do you want to go to tonight?” I ask.
“I took care of it. Be ready at seven.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You really want to make tonight special, don’t you?”
“I do,” he says, his sincerity shining through his gaze, touching my soul.
“Well, wherever it is… I’m looking forward to tonight.”
“Me too,” he murmurs, running a knuckle gently down my cheek. As he leans in closer, my heart pounds and my belly flutters, anticipating the kiss that’s about to happen.
He presses a soft peck on my cheek. “See you at seven,” he whispers in my ear, straightening himself out.
Okay. No kiss yet.
“See you then.” I tap my key card, open the door, and watch him walk toward his room.
He taps his key card and opens his door. He glances at me one last time, nods quickly, and smiles before vanishing into his room.