Chapter 23
“How did we get here?” I ask, sitting on the edge of my bed in a state of confusion. “I don’t remember walking here.”
“Because you didn’t. We hitched a ride with an employee on a golf cart and you dozed off halfway back.”
“Did I snore?”
“No.”
“Do I snore?”
“I don’t know,” he says, as he kneels down and takes off my shoes.
Squinting, I try to focus on his face, but my vision is hazy from a serious case of booze blur. I point at him, closing one eye to see clearer. “Which one are you?”
“How many of me do you see?”
“Three.”
“I’m the good-looking one.”
“Oh, there you are.” With a wobbly finger, I redirect my pointing hand to the blurred figure in the center. “I have to tell you something.”
“Tell me tomorrow,” he says, a hint of frustration in his voice.
“It’s important,” I insist.
“Fine,” he concedes with an exasperated sigh. “What do you have to tell me?”
Cupping my hand to the side of my mouth, I whisper, “I saw your penis.”
“You what?”
“On the plane,” I explain. “You were waving your penis at me when you passed by to get to your seat. It was like a bobble head, bouncing up and down saying, ‘Helloooo, I’m Daniel’s penis. How do you do? Nice to meet you.’” I mimic the motion with a giggle.
“My dick talks?” he asks, clearly amused.
I nod, bouncing my index finger up and down in the air. “More like penile sign language,” I say with a mischievous wink. “Boing, boing, boing.”
“Got it,” he says with an eye roll.
“Hey Daniel?”
“Yeah, Tess.”
“You really should wear underwear when you travel. Don’t want your private parts talking to strangers.”
“I’ll remember that. Here.” He lifts my legs and places them on top of the mattress. “Lie down.”
“Are we going to have sex now?”
“No.”
“Why not? We’re on a bed. In b-e-a-utiful Mexico. Let’s get mexi-freaky. Smack my ass like a pi?ata.”
“Ahhh… no, thank you.”
“I want to get laid, muchacho. Spread me out like that breakfast buffet I love so much. Manhandle and devour me like a chafing dish full of bacon. Unroll me like a cinnamon bun and lick my sweet center. I’m craving excessive, greedy, sexual gluttony.”
“Wow.”
“I want the Big D. Dammit.” I wink playfully, wagging my finger at him. “And I’m not talking doughnuts.”
“I figured that out.”
“Serve me up a heaping serving of no-strings manly virility and I’m good.”
Shaking his head again, he chuckles. “You’re a mess.”
“And like my breakfast chilaquiles… I wouldn’t mind three hearty helpings.”
“Duly noted.”
“How about you pretend I’m Mayan and ruin me with your wet, glistening body?” I burst out in a laugh again, rolling side to side on the bed. “Get it… Mayan Ruins. Mayan ruin me.”
“Right now, I’m neither wet nor glistening. And… I don’t think so.”
“Don’t you like me?” I ask, a wave of disappointment washes over me, causing my stomach to sink.
“I like you very much.”
“Then why aren’t you taking advantage of me?” In an attempt to seduce him, I begin to lift my shirt, but he swiftly grabs my wrist, shakes his head, and stops me.
“I’m not taking advantage of you because you’re drunk.” Gently, he guides my arms back to my side. “And because I like you very much.”
Closing one eye, I focus on his blurry face, raise my hand, and squeeze his cheeks between my thumb and index finger. “You’re soooo hot.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to need a cold shower after this.”
“I want to sing.”
“You’re one of those drunks, huh? Okay,” he says, resigned. “Let me hear it.”
“Here comes the bride. See how she goes. Then she gets married and takes off her clothes.” I slap my cheeks with my hands and giggle. “That was a good one.”
“Poetic,” he says sarcastically.
Gripping the hem of my shirt, I begin to lift it again. Daniel quickly grabs my hands and shakes his head.
“I’m a bride today. I have a veil and everything,” I insist, my words slurring together. “I’m getting naked. It’s in the song.”
“Please keep your clothes on.”
“I have awesome tits,” I declare proudly.
“Great information. Thanks.”
“Why don’t you want me?”
“I never said that,” he replies, his voice gentle.
“I’m throwing myself at you and you keep throwing me back.”
“I’d be taking advantage of you.”
“Yes. That’s what I want.”
“That’s what the alcohol wants. I don’t know what you want.”
“I just told you. Fuck me.”
“If we fuck, not only do I want you to consent to it—I want you to remember it. Right now, neither is possible.”
“Mmm. Hot,” I mumble.
“What’s hot?”
“You said fuck,” I say, a twisted grin forming on my lips.
“We’re back to that?”
“Say it again.”
“Get some sleep. We’re not doing this again,” he dismisses.
“You’re sucking all the fun out of my balloon.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It made more sense in my head,” I admit, letting out a long yawn. “I’m sleepy.”
“Get some rest.”
“Will you lay down next to me until I fall asleep?”
“Sure.” He kicks off his shoes and settles onto the bed beside me.
“Can you hold me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been so long since I’ve been held.”
“Come here.” He stretches out his arm. I scoot closer as his arm wraps around my shoulder. Our bodies fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces. His touch is warm and gentle, yet firm, like he’s holding me together. It feels like home, not a physical place, not something I see… an intangible feeling I know is there.
It’s been a long time, but I finally feel safe. I can let my guard down and breathe.
“For so long, I’ve been stuck,” I confess, my words weighing heavily on my heart.
“In what?”
“In yesterday while reaching for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow can wait. Just live in today.”
“Today? Of all the todays, this one’s not that great,” I say, my voice tinged with sadness.
“Tomorrow’s today will be better.”
“How do you know?”
“Because” — he leans in and presses a soft kiss against my forehead — “I’ll be there.”
“I’m so lonely,” I whisper, feeling the tears pool in my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“But since I met you—I feel less alone.”
His arm tightens around me, enveloping me in a comforting embrace that I’ve yearned for. It’s an indescribable feeling, as if all the pieces of my broken heart are slowly being glued back together.
“Can you tell me something good about me?” I ask. “Anything. Even if you have to lie.”
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and his fingers gently squeeze my shoulder. “I came to Mexico to be alone and think. I never expected to meet someone like you.”
“Like me, how?”
“Smart, beautiful, sexy, and challenging as hell. You’re the whole damn package. I’m glad our paths crossed.”
“Is that a lie?”
“No.” His voice is steady and unwavering. I know he’s being truthful.
I close my eyes, savoring the moment, and my lips curl up at the corners of my mouth. “You’re a good man, Daniel. It’s been so long since I liked someone the way I like you.”
“Don’t say anything you might regret while you’re drunk,” he cautions.
“I’m not drunk. Perhaps a smidge tipsy,” I admit.
“You’re way more than tipsy.”
“Maybe. But I know tomorrow, when I’m not so tipsy…you’ll still be a good man.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’ll still like you.”
A warm smile graces his face and he gazes up at the ceiling. “I’ll still like you too.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice exposing my vulnerability.
“Yeah, Tess. I’m sure.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my words barely escaping my lips, my heart heavy with regret.
“About what?” he asks.
“This. Tonight. So much.”
“It’s okay.” He smiles with a genuine kindness in his eyes.
“I’ve made so many bad decisions about men,” I mutter through a yawn, my eyelids growing heavy. “But something tells me you’re not one of them.”
I close my eyes, inhale a long, drowsy breath, and drift off to sleep.