3. JESS
Chapter three
JESS
JJ. Who does he think he is? He doesn’t get to just throw out our couple nickname like it isn’t going to hurt my soul when he says it. I loved that nickname. It’s not like most couple combinations, the tradition of smashing together two names like they do for celebrities: Bennifer, Brangelina, TomKat.
Double ‘Js’ just flow, like they’re meant to be together. Jagger’s teammates came up with the moniker, and from that moment on, neither of us was ever called by our real names again. I was JJ, and so was he. We were one.
But Jagger ruined that in an instant all those years ago. And although I’ve never gotten over him, that doesn’t mean I want to see his gorgeous face and dreamy eyes. I don’t have to like him to admit he’s cover-of-a-magazine handsome.
Somehow after all these years playing hockey, he doesn’t have one scar on his face, no missing teeth. His looks are still perfect, regardless of all the fights he’s been in. And because I still keep tabs on him and get notifications about Miami, I’ve heard about all of them.
As boyfriends go, he was great, but once you dump me on television, you lose all style points accumulated. He’s in the negative now. Not that I’m holding a grudge or anything. Or that I have that much room to judge considering what I just did to Tobey.
Ugh. My foot is killing me. I wasn’t going to limp in front of Jagger anymore, though, because I don’t need him. But I do need someone because the pain is radiating up my leg.
A cheerful looking woman with a red bob and a huge smile greets me at the front desk. “Hi there! Welcome to Coral Reef Resort. How can I assist you?”
“Hi. I already have a room, but I got stung by a jellyfish. Do you have anything to help with that?”
“Do you have a travel partner? Maybe they could—you know—assist.” Megan, as her name tag reads, winks at me, then cackles loudly at her suggestion.
I do my best to force a smile. I am a generally very happy person, but with the agony in my extremity, along with everyone suggesting I get peed on, my patience is running thin.
“I’m just kidding,” she says when her laughter dies out. “That’s sort of a misconception. Urine can actually irritate the sting, and we don’t need that, right?”
“Nope. It’s pretty irritating already.” I force a tight smile.
Megan leans under the desk to retrieve a small bottle. “Here, it’s our resort’s own special vinegar mixture. It can help, depending on what type of jellyfish got you. We get a lot of them in this area; guess they think the resort is beautiful, too.” She hands the liquid over to me.
“If that doesn’t help, you can also try putting your foot in hot water for twenty minutes or so and taking some pain relievers. You’ll be just fine,” she finishes with another beaming smile.
I return her grin the best I can and thank her.
But she knows nothing about my life. I’m not going to be just fine.
I know she means the sting, but the rest of my life is a mess. I just need to put my feet up and take a nap. Recharge and appreciate where I am right now, in this amazing place.
Just because Jagger barged his way into my paradise, well his paradise, according to him, doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy this vacation.
Megan shows me where my room is on the resort map. Thankfully it’s a relatively short walk. When I open the door to my room, I sigh in relief...there’s a view straight through to the ocean. It’s every bit as magnificent as portrayed online.
I see my bags just inside the door, but I don’t recognize the extra black suitcase sitting beside them. What in the world? Then I hear the shower running in the bathroom.
“Hello?”
No response.
This is just not my day. I need to lay down, but I can’t with a stranger in my room. Clearly, there’s been some sort of mistake. I don’t get how the valet didn’t notice they put luggage with two different names on it in here.
Well, I guess people don’t need to have the same last name to be traveling together. But still, wasn’t Megan at the front desk paying attention when she checked in two separate people for the same room?
I sit on the bed and put some of what Megan gave me on my foot to start getting some relief. It feels better almost immediately as I lie back.
The water turns off. I need to get up, but I just want to bask in the non-throbbing feeling in my foot for a second, then I’ll sit up and figure out what’s going on here. I should open my eyes, but I don’t want to. I’m so happy. There’s a breeze coming in through the open sliding doors, the saltwater scent hovering in the air. I can hear the ocean. It’s all so soothing.
And I love this mattress, it’s like laying on a cloud. I’m going to open my eyes any second now. Not going to rest anymore. The pain wiped me out, though, my body is drained.
But whoever is in the shower is going to come out any second. Maybe I should just march myself back to the front desk, but the thought alone is exhausting—
Wow. How long was I out? I definitely fell asleep. The light in the room has completely shifted. Oh my gosh. I fell asleep with a stranger in the shower.
I quickly survey the suite. It’s a big space as hotel rooms go. There is one large area, with a living room section just past the queen size bed I’m currently on. It’s partially hidden by columns and a beautiful carved wooden screen, allowing light to filter through but creating some privacy.
The intruder could be over there right now, and I’d never know it. But they also don’t know I’m awake. I need to arm myself with something, just in case. I spot a lionfish sculpture on the table that should work.
I slither off the bed like an army ranger, then shimmy over to grab my decorative weapon. With a quick peek to the side of one of the chairs, I can see there’s no one on the couch. But I need to be thorough, so my lionfish friend and I continue our covert reconnaissance. I press my back up against the foot of the bed and scooch toward the living room divider.
The tv is off. I look through one of the slits of the wooden screen and… nothing. Hmm. Maybe whoever was here realized the mix up and took off without waking me. That’s nice. I put the lionfish down on the bed and walk to the front door.
No black suitcase anymore.
Looks like my day is improving. My foot feels fine now, and the mysterious showerer is gone. I should call the front desk, though, to make sure someone came back to get a different room. I just want to check out the patio pool first. This was what clinched it for me online.
Each ground floor suite has its own private plunge pool, complete with built-in seating and a small waterfall. I will definitely be taking advantage of it. The sound of the ocean each night and a cocktail, it doesn’t get much better than that. Actually, there’s no time like the present, even without a drink.
I head back into the room and put on my bikini. The plan is to work hard on my tan while I’m here, so it’s two-piece bathing suits for the entirety of the trip. I choose the yellow one with blue hearts. It’s Tobey’s favorite, but I can’t think about that anymore. It’s not my honeymoon, it’s a solo vacation.
The water is an oasis, the perfect temperature to cool me off. My patio is a private sanctuary, enclosed by lush hedges that shield me from the neighboring rooms on either side and wrap around the pool. An opening in the greenery frames a breathtaking view of the ocean, adding a touch of natural grandeur to the secluded space.
I’m lost in the trance of waves crashing endlessly on the shoreline when a sudden impact breaks my focus. Water consumes me in an instant as the plunge pool erupts in an array of droplets from what must be a close-range cannon ball.
My face collides with someone’s elbow as I slip under the water. The plunge pool clearly isn’t meant for actual plunging. Pain returns to my body with a sudden jolt, sharp and unwelcome.
My head breaks the surface to find chocolate eyes staring back at me… again. My hand instinctively goes to the top of my cheek where the pointy limb struck me.
“Oh my gosh, Jess. I’m so sorry!”
I let my body go limp back under the water. No more Jagger. Please. I’m going to hold my breath and hope he disappears by the time I resurface.
Unfortunately, I must have teeny, tiny little baby lungs because in less than ten seconds, I’m back above the water again.
“What are you doing?” Jagger’s face scrunches in confusion.
He acts like he’s never seen someone hide from him in a four by six-foot plunge pool before. Well, he’s going to have to get used to it because I’m going to keep doing this until it works, even with my smaller than average sized lungs.
Going under.
Air. Must have air. Why didn’t I go out for the swim team and build up my capacity? I’m getting worse with each dive under the surface. Jagger just stares at me when I reappear, no longer questioning my antics.
He’s likely questioning my sanity, but not my actions.
About ten bobs up and down later, he’s leaning against the side of the pool with his arms folded across his chest. Well, I can’t get a good look at his pecs that way.
No. Go back under. No looking at his pecs. Well defined pecs on a man that broke my heart mean nothing to me. “Nmmmphng.”
In case that wasn’t clear, that was me saying “nothing” under the water, where I went to stop staring at Jagger’s rock-hard chest. I’ve been bobbing up and down for so long my cheek doesn’t even hurt anymore.
Eventually, I can’t take it. I’ve had too long of a day for this. When I come up for air for the last time, Jagger is smirking at me. “You done?”
“The better question is, ‘Why did you do a cannon ball in a pool this small?’”
Jagger tilts his head. “That is a better question, and the answer is, ‘I thought it would be fun to leap the hedge and it was.’ Totally cleared it. Did you catch that athleticism?”
I bite my lip to keep myself from saying something… unbecoming a lady. After a few deep breaths, I respond. “No. I was too busy almost drowning from the tidal wave.”
“Oh, sorry about that. How is your face? Sorry about that too.” He gives me a sheepish grin; the same one he’s made a hundred times at me when he does something wrong by accident. It’s adorable, and he knows it.
Jagger reaches out to touch my face like before, but I give him my best stink eye, and he jerks his hand back as if my glare is a venomous snake bite. The only other time I’ve given him that look was the day he broke up with me.
Good. He needs to stop trying to touch me because I will melt. I have met me. I know me very well. And I. WILL. CAVE. And I cannot cave. I’ve stayed strong this long.
Granted, I never had to see Jagger in person in all this time. To notice the one freckle he has on the left side of his nose.
His face changes from being-attacked-by-a reptile to amused. “You’re checking out my freckle, aren’t you? You could never resist it. All this time spent in the gym, and it’s the freckle that catches your eye. You always were one of a kind.”
He moves even closer. “Go ahead, get a good look. I think I have a new one a little lower.”
I can’t resist. I have to check. My eyes dip below his nose. Jagger licks his lips. “See it? Right below my bottom lip. Really get in there.”
I’m not sure when he moved in so close or when I allowed it, but I can tell he’s had chips and salsa recently. I love Mexican food. I love freckles and Mexican and I—
Nope. I’m not hungry and I don’t need to look at his distinctive marking, however magnetic. I have the ocean, and I ate… Well, it’s been quite a long time since I’ve eaten, but I can make it. I back up to the side of the pool. He clearly doesn’t have a new freckle. Admittedly, I’m a little disappointed.
“Where did you come from, anyway?”
“I was in the ocean and coming back to my pool to get the sand off me.”
I lean in a little closer. Clearly, I heard that wrong. “Your pool?”
“Yep. This is my room. I book it a year in advance. I get the same one every time, ever since we broke—” He hesitates. “Well, that’s how I know I can clear the hedges when I jump. I’ve done it many times over the years.”
I sigh deeply. “This isn’t the community pool, Jagger, and you’re not twelve. Plus, this is my room. Didn’t you see my bags at the front door? Or me sleeping on the bed? You must have forgotten to rebook this time.”
He rubs his chin. “Nope, don’t remember seeing a beautiful woman on my bed who may or may not have been snoring because she was sleeping on her right side. Sorry. I had no idea you’d be here when I got back.”
Jagger is such a terrible liar. He always sucks in his lips just before he starts spinning a web of untruths. I do not snore… I think.
“And there’s no chance I forgot to rebook. Follow me.” He reaches out his hand again, then thinks better of it and leaps out of the pool. He’s clearly still very athletic.
“Towel, please?” I ask.
“Come on. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you in a bikini before.”
“Not happening,” I stand firm even though he just clearly saw my suit a few minutes ago.
“Fine, just a second.” Jagger runs inside and returns with a towel. He makes a show of bowing before me. “For you, my lady.”
Ugh. He’s killing me.
I follow him inside to the nightstand beside the bed. Jagger opens the bottom drawer, then pulls it all the way out. “Take a look,” he says with a slight upturn of his lips, while placing the drawer on the bed. The left corner is etched with a small heart, the letters J.W., a plus sign and J.L.
Jagger West plus Jess Lockwood=JJ.
Melting. So much melting.