Spring Fling

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Want to take a walk?” she says. “Maybe a swim?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  I stand and brush the sand from my palms. Taking ahold of her hand, I’m testing the waters, hoping she hangs on. A look passes between us, but she doesn’t pull away.

  As we head for the shoreline, I’m conscious of men watching. She doesn’t seem to be affected. Maybe it’s such a common occurrence it’s become invisible to her.

  “Are you a beach guy?” she says.

  “Oh yeah. I was raised in Santa Monica. My parents still live there. What about you? Looks like you’re comfortable in the ocean.”

  She picks up a little shell and examines it. Then it gets discarded and she goes back to holding my hand as we walk.

  “I grew up in Newport Beach. My father was a diving champion, so being around water was a given.”

  “How did you end up in Santa Barbara?”

  “College. Then marriage. That’s where my husband was from and where I built my real estate business.”

  This would be a perfect time for a spit take. She surprised me with that one.

  “Husband?”

  “Well, ex husband.”

  It strikes me how little we know about each other.

  “How long were you married?”

  “Five years.”

  She’s smiling at my telling expression and I can’t blame her.

  “Surprised?” she asks already knowing the answer.

  “Uh, no. Well, I guess a little. Don’t know why though,” I say.

  “What about you? Ever married?”

  “No. I’ve had a few long-term relationships. But I’m not really sure marriage is even for me.”

  A weird thing is happening. We’re both smiling.

  “What’re you smiling at?” I say, chuckling.

  “I think it has something to do with the fact we know almost nothing about each other. We purposely skipped all the steps that usually come before you have sex. It’s very freeing, isn’t it?”

  I’m about to mention I think we should plan on including all the steps. But she adds another thought.

  “Sometimes the details ruin everything. What we’ve had the last few days couldn’t have been better,” she says happily.

  Well, shit. I don’t want to disagree. She might take it the wrong way. So I keep my opinion to myself.

  “Do you live in Los Angeles?” she says.

  “San Juan Capistrano. I’m trying to save up a down payment on a house.”

  “Southern California property is nearly unobtainable for most people.”

  “True.”

  “When the time comes, if you need any help navigating the market, let me know. I can at least offer long-distance advice.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” I pause for a couple seconds before jumping in with the most important question. “What about boyfriends? You have one?”

  “No boyfriend. I’m surprised you hadn’t already come to that conclusion,” she says chuckling.

  “Not everyone behaves properly when they’re away from home. Boyfriend or not.”

  “But I would. Speaking of, why didn’t you tell me you were on a bachelor party trip?”

  “Because I respect my brother. It’s his fucked-up story to tell. Not mine.”

  Looks like we’re both satisfied with the answers to our questions. It’s about character. Sounds like she’s got a good one. Hope she thinks I do too.

  We walk in silence for a while, absorbing what we’ve learned. Letting it settle alongside the other pieces of the puzzle.

  I angle toward the water, not letting go of her hand, and we slowly walk into the sea. With an arm around her back we fall back into the gently rolling waves. The cool sensation washes over me as I pull Natalie on top of my floating body. She rests beautifully, our faces only inches away.

  “Girlfriend?” She says just the one word over the woosh of ocean hitting sand.

  “Nope. I’m dating. Nothing serious.”

  The way she’s looking at me is full of meaning. Without words she’s asking if I’m telling the truth, and if the girl in question knows it’s “just dating”. And she’s doing it all with a raised eyebrow and tilted head.

  “Hand to heart,” I say paddling the water to keep us afloat.

  Then the corners of her mouth softly lift.

  Friends don’t smile like that. Think she’s feeling what I am. She rolls off and we swim side by side in silence.

  Tonight’s it. We can’t even be alone like we want to. She wouldn’t do that to the bride who only has the one night with her friends.

  So instead, dinner, the club, and what will follow for her and I will all be jammed into a handful of hours.

  Fuck me.

  * * *

  * * *

  Midnight.

  Our time together is running low. Not sure how much longer we need to stay here. Holly and Elliott never even showed. Just a text saying they’d see us tomorrow. No one is mad at them. Maybe I should bring that up as proof we wouldn’t be complete dicks for cutting out.

  It’s obvious to everyone we’re drunk. Not off the margaritas or the tequila shots. We’re drunk off each other. The woman makes me high. It sure feels like more than a good time.

  The song playing is an old Usher ballad. Silky sensual sounds. Slipping an arm around her waist, I bring her close. Our bodies moving as one, swaying to the music. Wish I could tell her how I feel. But I’m afraid of saying too much. If I ruin these last hours, I’d never forgive myself.

  So I put the words away and rest my forehead against hers. And of all the places I could be, I’m content to slow dance with her.

  * * *

  Natalie

  * * *

  We’ll be landing soon, and I’ll be driving back to Santa Barbara by tomorrow morning. Four hours alone to think about life. It’s not time that returns me a different person. Only three days have passed. It’s the impact of meeting Parker.

  While Jenna and Maggie talk, I think of other things. My mind lingers on last night. Sigh. What a lovely memory. He showed me another layer. There was a tenderness to his touch. Even when he had a fistful of my hair. The image makes me smile.

  I hated our goodbye today. There was this huge disconnect between my thoughts and actions. It felt strained, and that was all me. Did I say everything? Did he?

  I’m questioning myself. Why I’ve been so intent on discouraging a real connection. One thing is obvious. The past holds too much power over me.

  The problem is, since Alex, I’m a newfound realist. That’s the voice that keeps contradicting me, pointing out the reasons it wouldn’t work.

  Sitting here with my friends has been the best chance at distraction. Jenna wanted to hear what she missed, all the details.

  “I’m really happy you all found something to occupy your time while I was otherwise engaged,” Jenna chuckles. “Especially our friend Holly. She’s so worn out she’s sleeping in her seat!”

  “Anything for you, babe,” Maggie says. Then turning to me, “What about Parker? Are you going to see each other again?”

  “I don’t know. He wanted to, but I’m not sure it would work.”

  “Why? He’s an awesome guy.”

  “After Alex I made a vow to figure myself out before jumping into another relationship.”

  “Just tell me one thing, was the sex as good as I think it was?” Jenna says winking repeatedly.

  But I’m not about to tell them. Not about the upside down sixty-nine, or the wall sex atop his shoulders. Not the way he so stunningly ate my pussy, or the size of his beautiful cock. They don’t need to know.

  “Hello? Natalie? Yoo whoo?”

  I snap out of my reverie to see the faces of my stunned and amused girlfriends.

  “My God! Was it that good?” Jenna says. “I knew it. He’s a stuntman after all.”

  “What does that mean? Think he lit himself on fire while he was doing her?” Maggie says with a straight face.

/>   “No! But he’s probably strong and agile,” Jenna says looking at me for confirmation. A sly smile is my only answer.

  “Maybe you should give that one a second look,” Maggie says. “Matt’s known him and James for years. Says he’s a good guy. And he’s never seen him act the fool. You know, like Matt does.”

  Jenna and I laugh at our friend’s assessment of her new interest.

  “I forgive him that because he’s actually a nice, smart, hung guy,” she adds.

  “Ah, the holy trifecta,” Jenna says nodding.

  “Let’s talk about you,” I say turning to her. “Are you ready for the wedding?”

  Her face lights with the mention.

  “I still have thirty-three days to go. But yeah, we’re mostly ready. Jerry hasn’t completed his to-do list yet. He had like four things. Meanwhile I’ve done all the heavy lifting.”

  “Men. They can be such pains in the ass,” Maggie says.

  Jenna places her hand atop mine. “I didn’t want to tell you while we were in Cancun, but Alex RSVP’d. He’s coming.”

  The only thing I feel is anger. Not sorrow or wishful thinking of things from the past. I’m pissed. Way to get my mind off Parker.

  “I could not care less. Really.” I shrug my indifference.

  “What a colossal dick,” Maggie says. “He knows you’re in the wedding. I hate his fucking stupid face.”

  “I do too,” says Jenna. “But unfortunately he’s one of Jerry’s best friends.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jenna. I’m sure he’ll bring his girlfriend and they’ll be in their own little bubble.”

  “Uh, that’s the other thing,” she says.

  Suddenly my stomach twists. “What?”

  “They broke up. He’s coming stag.”

  “That didn’t take long,” Maggie smirks.

  “I don’t care. Not about any of it. He’s not on my radar anymore. Now let’s quit talking about the asshole.”

  Shit. Up to that last word I was selling my indifference. Now the wound is exposed. My own stupidity is what hurts the most. How foolish I still feel knowing I never picked up on his cheating.

  * * *

  * * *

  Rollins Mansion is a gorgeous setting for Jenna’s wedding. The 1920’s era Tudor is elegant, this old-world room perfect for the ceremony. Rich, polished wood walls, subdued lighting, the right backdrop for romance.

  I refuse to make eye contact with any wedding guests on the off chance I spot Alex. Instead, I focus on the bride and groom. Jenna looks like a dream and Jerry hasn’t stopped smiling. They’re in love. Hope their story ends better than mine did.

  The rotund officiant wraps it up. “And so, by the authority vested in me by the state of Iowa, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your beautiful bride.”

  Jerry takes Jenna’s face in his hands and gives her a sweet meaningful kiss. When they turn, I hand her back the bouquet and smile my congratulations.

  As they start the procession out toward the courtyard and gardens, it’s such a happy moment. There’s whistles and applause and joyful faces. The hundred and fifty strong crowd makes an impressive sound.

  Don’t look! Eyes straight! If I see Alex it’s going to turn my mood.

  But then a child starts crying and I automatically look up. Shit. He’s there on the right, in the end seat three rows back. I know that look. The crooked smile I used to find irresistible, I don’t anymore.

  Walking behind the newlyweds, I’m purposely looking at the people on the left. And once outside where the reception’s set up, the entire wedding party is surrounded by well wishers. I get lost in the happy. Until Elizabeth comes behind me and grabs my arm in a vise grip.

  “Did you see him?” she whispers excitedly.

  Turning, I give her my what the fuck look. “Yeah, I saw him. What are you so excited about?”

  She looks surprised. “Really? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “Happy? That’s about the last thing I’d feel seeing my ex-husband.”

  Her face brightens. “Not Alex! Parker is here!”

  The sensation in my body is immediate. I’m tingling, either excited or having a stroke.

  “He called Jenna to tell her he was going to be working on a Finn Kennedy film next month. She invited him to the wedding.”

  “What? Oh my god!”

  “He was sitting in the last row. Go find him!”

  Then I feel a hand on my elbow. The familiar touch that’s lost its effect on me.

  “Hello, Natalie,” Alex says softly.

  I gently pull away and give him an emotionless stare. He doesn’t have the privilege of touching me anymore.

  “Alex.”

  Elizabeth lifts her chin and eyebrow in a quiet message not to mess with either of us. She’s got my back. He sees it and under his breath huffs a response. He never really connected with my friends. That should have been my first clue.

  “How are you? Looking good. Always liked you in blue.”

  His eyes travel my body. Creepy. How did it used to seem sexy? Everything has changed.

  “I’d like to talk with you in private. Would that be okay?” he says sheepishly.

  “I’m really not interested, Alex. I’ve moved on,” I say perfectly calm.

  Then I touch his arm in a dismissive gesture. “But I wish you well.”

  There’s only his shocked look as I turn and walk away. I think his jaw dropped with my words.

  That feels good. My response was on point. Not too much. Not too little.

  I’m lighter. Nerves at seeing him have evaporated. This is how you feel when you’ve said exactly what you mean. Usually I’m coming up with the perfect response three hours later. For the first time in six months I realize he holds no power over me.

  Now on to more important things. Where’s Parker?

  I snake through the crowd, eyes searching for his handsome face. I can hardly wait to touch him. But along the way I’m stopped by Jenna’s aunt, one of our sorority sisters, and a kid looking for his mother. Fate is throwing roadblocks in my path one after another.

  Then I see him coming my way, navigating the crowd. His blue eyes focused above the faces. I think he’s looking for my blonde hair.

  I’ve imagined what he’d look like in a suit, but my imagination wasn’t aiming high enough. He’s stunning. Ink-black fine fabric and fitted as if some Italian tailor sold him his finest work. Stark-white dress shirt, open collared. I may have a fashiongasm right here.

  His eyes find mine and a smile lifts the corners of his mouth. I’m transported.

  Walking up, he leans in. “Jenna invited me. I hope it’s a good surprise.”

  I wrap my arm around his waist. “The best. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Oh shit. Tears. I feel them well. What the hell?

  He takes my hand. “Come on, I passed a place we can be alone.”

  We follow the brick path behind the rose trees lining the dance floor. It leads us to a gazebo entwined with vines and flowers. It’s beautifully romantic, but my eyes are too blurry to see it clearly.

  Leading me inside, we’re cut off from any distractions. Against the backdrop of blossoms, he takes my hand and we sit.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry.” A fat tear courses down my cheek.

  “What’s this about?” he says lifting my chin.

  I pause and gather the right words.

  “Cancun was magical. Parker, you’re the best time I’ve ever had.”

  “I feel the same.”

  Then I let it all out.

  “Here, back in the real world, where we have a past, I’m afraid you might change your perception of me.”

  “Why’s that? Are you a secret hoarder?” he teases.

  “No,” I chuckle. “Much worse. I’m a woman who’s been hurt. Bottom line, I’m not sure you’re going to want to stick around long enough to deal with that.”

  “Let me come to my own conclusions,
Natalie.”

  “Fair enough. Just know I’ve got trust issues.”

  “Is that why you were so resistant to getting to know me better?”

  “I’m coming out of a five-year marriage to a man I severely misjudged. I still haven’t figured out how I was so blind,” I say shaking my head. “Now I don’t trust my own impulses. Do you understand that?”

  “I understand the guy who hurt you so deeply must be an idiot.”

  His words and the grin accompanying them break my anxious mood and stop the tears.

  I look into eyes of quiet confidence and sincerity.

  “I don’t think I should pay for another man’s sins,” he says firmly. “That’s not who I am. You and I Natalie, we’re a new thing. Separate. I need you to see it that way too.”

  Good answer.

  The best one.

  I wouldn’t want a man who doesn’t know his own worth.

  “But while you’re coming to that conclusion, I’ll be patient,” he says with a gentleness that touches my heart.

  “That’s all I’m asking,” I say squeezing his hand. “One more thing. Just a heads up. He’s here.”

  A line appears between his brows. “Did you come together?”

  “No! God no!” I say quickly.

  He exhales. “Then I don’t give a damn where he is. He’s a bit player in our story.”

  My nod is agreement.

  “Now give me a proper hello,” he says.

  He slides a hand in my hair slowly, cupping the back of my head in his palm. His eyes linger on my lips. He’s kissing me once, twice.

  Our story. It’s begun.

  About the Author

  Leslie Pike has loved expressing herself through the written word since she was a child. Her passion for film and screenwriting led her to Texas for eight years, writing for a primetime CBS series. Leslie lives in Southern California with her Pom-Poo, Mr. Big. She’s traveled the world as part of film crews, from Africa to Israel, New York to San Francisco. Now she finds her favorite creative adventures take place in her home, writing Contemporary Romance.

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