Honeymoon Rebound

by Eddie Cleveland

  “Yeah? Are you some kind of patron saint of the chronically inflexible?” I push my hair back off my face and the night air swirls over my shoulders.

  “Ninety percent of the time, the problem is closed hips. You need to open them.” He nods over to one of the open window sills in the gazebo. “I can show you an easy trick to fix it right now.” He walks over.

  I join him and let out a squeak of surprise when he lifts me up and sits me on the edge. I instinctively flap out my arms and grab the sides of the window, afraid I might fall back and fall to my death down this mountainside.

  “See, there’s part of your problem,” Cohen points at me, the beer bottle still hanging from the fingers still clutching the neck, “you can’t let go of your fear.” He holds me steady, but I cling to the sides like a baby monkey on her mother’s back.

  “I’m all for facing my fears, but I’d rather not die tonight, thanks.” I breathe in sharply as I slowly turn my head and glance down at the drastic, rocky drop behind me. “Oh, no. I need to get down.” Panic swells up inside me.

  “I won’t let you go. I promise.” Cohen’s hands are on my back. They’re like an iron band around my waist, holding me steady.

  I search his face for a sign that I’m going to end up on 60 Minutes because of this guy, but unwavering kindness and a touch of concern in his gentle blue eyes is all I can find. My breathing evens out and I start to relax a bit, not so much I’ll let go or anything, I’m not an idiot.

  “You know the Shakira song ‘Hips Don’t Lie’?” His hands remain belted around me, holding me tight.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Yoga instructors love that song because it’s true. Your body is especially tight in places where you hold your trauma. The places where your emotions are all stuffed up inside and you haven’t released them yet.”

  “I don’t know if that’s very scientific.” I scoff, but he doesn’t smile back. He keeps me safe between his arms, his face serious.

  “Maybe not, but it’s the truth.”

  “Then what does tight hips mean?” I jut out my chin, challenging him.

  “Could be a few things,” he muses.

  “Like what?”

  “It could be you fear the future, or are holding onto the past,” he explains.

  Check and check.

  “You might have a fear of relationships, or it could be a blocked chakra,” he continues.

  This isn’t a therapist couch, I’m not interested in sifting through all my emotional baggage right now, instead, I focus on the other thing. “What’s the last one mean?”

  “A blockage? The hips are in line with the second chakra, the one that’s linked to things like passion.” His voice rumbles like a volcano, sending vibrations deep inside, shaking my core. “It’s the center of our desire, if we let it get blocked off, we’re denying ourselves one of life’s deepest pleasures.” He moves forward and I open my legs to him, letting him ease between them. My dress slides up my thighs and my panties press against the front of his jeans.

  Well, we can’t have that.

  “How do I fix it?” I whisper, my eyelashes swooping down over my eyes, suddenly heavy.

  “It’s a simple stretch. Just open your legs like this.” He slowly moves his hands from my waist and I still cling to the sides of the window frame tight. His fingers slide over my legs, to my knees and he pushes each open until my legs are spread wide. The night air dances over my pussy and the thin fabric of my underwear does nothing to stop it.

  “Like this?” I open them until the cleft in my pussy is pushed flush against his cock. In his pants, I can feel him grow hard.

  “Yeah, like that.” He looks down, his eyes flashing.

  “It’s harder than it looks.” I whimper. “My legs are already sore.” I wish I was lying.

  “You need a little distraction, then.” He leans into me and kisses me deeply, with urgency dancing on his tongue. It’s true, the soreness in my legs is the last thing on my mind. I’m lost in him, in this kiss, but when he breaks free from my lips I’m left wanting more. So much more.

  “I don’t think that was enough of a distraction.” I tilt my head, taunting him.

  “Oh no, well, maybe I need to step it up then. Maybe this will help.” He slides down to his knees and pins my legs to the walls, opening me wide. My dress is doing nothing to hide my lower body, it’s all pushed up around my waist.

  Cohen kisses a slow, intentional trail up the inside of my leg as my eyes roll back in my head. Somehow I remember to hang on.

  “That’s working.” I sigh.

  “Then you’re gonna love this.” He hooks my underwear to the side and his tongue slides in over my pussy. My body clenches and releases all at the same time. A moan escapes my mouth before I can bite down on my lip and I surrender myself to his mouth. His tongue flattens on my center, then rolls over my clit, leaving me breathless.

  Right now, I could not give a rat’s ass about Blair or about the career I never wanted or what I’m going to do next. All those fears quiet, not just those ones, all of them. Clinging onto the boards, I let my head fall backward, hanging out over the steep drop to the ocean, I open my eyes and stare at the sky upside down. I’m lost in the beautiful chaos as Cohen takes his time with me.

  I gaze back down at him, at my legs pinned open under his strong grip, at his shaggy hair framing his face, at his tongue flickering over my most sensitive part, pushing me to my limit. A swell surges inside me, my orgasm shattering me, both breaking me down and building me up. Both reminding me of what I never had and what can be mine. It’s more emotional than I expect and the peace that overtakes me when the last trembles quake through my thighs is new to me.

  “What do you think? Feel like your chakra is opened?” Cohen smirks up at me and stands back up, letting the side of my panties slide back into place. He licks his lips like he can’t get enough of my taste and pulls me into him.

  “I’m a believer,” I murmur.

  “You’re shivering,” he frowns. “Here.” Cohen takes off his jacket and helps me slide it on. My tremble softens and I breathe in his scent as I pull the warm leather around me.

  My ears prick as an unfamiliar sound like a horse clopping down a city street grows louder by the second. Cohen turns around and I stare over his shoulder at a group of star lovers coming down the path toward us.

  “Holy shit, that was close.” I smile like I got away with a bank heist.

  “Plenty of time to spare,” Cohen replies and helps swoop me back off the ledge and down to my feet.

  We play it low-key, both of us walking hand in hand with little grins across our faces as we head out to the front of the building to where Cohen parked his motorcycle. He hands me a helmet and helps me on the back again.

  “Did you want to go grab a drink somewhere?” he yells back at me.

  I do, but I know one drink will lead to two and two will lead to me not showing up for my surfing date with Finn tomorrow morning. A quick flash of guilt washes over me when I shake my head no.

  “I can’t. I have to get up early.” I try not to look as guilty as I feel.

  “Will I see you at yoga?”

  “No, I don’t want to knock everyone over again.” I laugh.

  “Probably a good plan,” he agrees. “How about I take you out tomorrow night then? Say, eight-ish?”

  “I’d love to.” I wrap my arms around him and he rips off down the road. Holding him tight, we slice through the darkness, throwing caution to the salty wind. Life itself is coursing through my veins and all I want is more.

  9

  Joss

  Cohen’s retro motorcycle rumbles down the road, the intense vibrations tease my pussy, making me yearn for another “hip-opening session” or maybe something else, I could go for some downward doggie style, if he’s into it. I know I am.

  He turns into the hotel parking lot and pulls up in front of the Hilton. He helps me off the back of his bike like I’m stepping down from a pumpkin-
turned-carriage for the night. I’ve never felt like more of a princess, not in the spoiled, expensive-things-equals-love kind of way. No. More like how all those old Disney movies used to make me feel when I was a starry-eyed preteen dreaming of the day I’d meet my own charming prince.

  It was supposed to be Blair. On paper, he ticked a lot of those boxes. He had a great job, a promising future, good looks, and he could turn on his charm at every dinner party. Had. Look at me, thinking about him in the past tense. Like he’s dead.

  He might not be dead, but he’s dead to me and that’s close enough.

  The thing was, even with all those check marks, there was still something missing. Something more than money or a handsome face can provide. I never looked into Blair’s face and felt this light, fluttery, floaty thing rolling around inside my chest right now. I never had to double-check and make sure my feet were still firmly planted on the ground because I couldn’t feel them anymore. I thought all those scenes in those movies, the ones where the people literally float away on a cloud of hearts, were exaggerations. Now, I’m a little sad I was willing to settle down with a man who never made me feel that way.

  But I get to feel it now.

  Cohen’s dimples make me smile. Sliding the jacket off my arms, I hand it back to him. It’s a little sad to watch him cover up how his tight shirt clings to his muscular frame, but it still looks good on him. He’s almost got an old-school James Dean vibe or something. I pull off my helmet and hold it out for him, but he holds up his hand. “You keep it, gorgeous. I’m not sharing this bike with anyone but you until you fly out of here and break my heart.” His eyes twinkle.

  “Bro, you gotta get that POS outta here.” A uniformed valet comes rushing over, panic etched across his face. “You’re gonna get me fired, man.” He frowns.

  “First off, my bike is no piece of shit. Xander, you need to take one of my classes and find your chill, brother. Can’t you see me trying to say goodbye to my girl? You totally stomped all over my moment.” Cohen holds up his palms like, what the fuck?

  His girl? Heat travels from my toes up my entire body.

  “Come on, Cohen. You know we’re all good, but this is my job. Just kiss her and drive outta here before someone complains about the noise.”

  Cohen’s stormy eyes clear when he stops looking at the valet and over to me. His gaze settles on my lips and he grabs my hand, easing me toward him. “I guess I should do what the man says,” he murmurs, tugging me into his kiss. My arm slides over his shoulder and my lips part as he shows me his second most impressive talent with his tongue.

  “Ahem.” His friend loudly coughs.

  “Okay, I’m going.” Cohen breaks our kiss but holds me so our foreheads are touching. He gives me another quick kiss and another.

  “Seriously? Can’t you go park your bike and go up to her room?”

  “No can do,” Cohen answers, a mischievous grin on his face.

  “Why not?” his friend counters.

  “She’s staying in the honeymoon suite.” He winks at me and his friend’s face goes slack with shock. “Tomorrow around eight.” Cohen turns his attention back to me and I can’t help but laugh at how much he’s enjoying all this. I can see it in his eyes, he’s loving the scandalized look on his friend’s face right now.

  “I’ll meet you here.” I nod.

  “Good, see you then.” He gives me a full-handed slap on my ass making me jump. Heat whooshes over my face as I tug down on my dress and walk into the hotel as he drives away.

  A warm, floaty feeling pulls me across the lobby and into the elevator. It carries me into the hotel room and all the way over to the king-sized bed where I flop down, face-first, next to my best friend.

  “I can’t tell if this is a ‘what the hell was that?’ kind of collapse or a ‘exhausted from getting so much good dick’ sorta thing.” Benji pushes on my shoulder, rolling me over. He takes one look at my smirk, even with my eyes closed, he knows immediately and starts getting excited. “Oh, it’s the ‘good dick’ exhaustion. I know that smile. Joss, you’ve gotta get in this bed and tell me everything.”

  I let my shoes slide off to the floor with the helmet Cohen is reserving for me. It falls to the floor with a loud thump as I climb up against the explosion of pillows. I puff up, about to spill everything, all the moments my heart felt something I never knew it could … alive. Instead, I frown when I notice Benji is in his full pajamas.

  “Wait, did you stay in all night? What happened to us going out? Meeting guys? Living each day like it’s our last? We made a pact,” I remind him.

  “I did go out,” he answers glumly, fiddling with the remote control. “I don’t think it’s gonna work out for me here.” He sighs.

  “What? Why not? Did you even talk to anyone?”

  “Yeah, I went to a gay bar down the street but guys here aren’t looking for some boring guy from Ohio with a serious dad-bod happening. They see shredded guys who look like they belong in a super-hero movie all day long on the beach. Let’s face it, I’m never gonna look like that.” His eyes flicker to mine.

  Even though he’s lost so much weight, Benji’s confidence still needs a bit of work. “Listen, you were hot fifty pounds ago, don’t act like you’re some kind of ogre. If you didn’t find a guy who was interested in you tonight, it’s their loss.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He casts his eyes down.

  “I mean it. You’re so critical of yourself, you can’t see what I see. I’m not propping you up here. If I didn’t know how real these feelings are, I’d think you were trying to get an ego boost out of me telling you how sexy you are. I mean, do you even see yourself? You could be in a superhero movie, Benji.” I squeeze one of his tight biceps, but I can see he isn’t seeing the same thing I am when he looks down. “I get it. Sometimes it takes a while to recognize our own reflections.” My eyebrows crinkle as it hits me how much it applies to me too. “Your eyes are gonna catch up when you stop telling yourself it’s about how many abs you can see. You know it’s not about that shit. Don’t get me wrong,” I nudge him, “you’re a sexy motherfucker, but it ain’t about that shit.”

  “Okay, let’s get out of my head for now.” He holds up his hands and places them on my shoulders.

  “Fair enough.” I nod.

  There’s only one thing I want to know right now. Dead serious.”

  “Sure, what is it.” I look at him straight on.

  “Is mister Lululemon packing?”

  “Yeah,” I laugh. I can’t help it. Benji laughs with me and we lean back against our pillows as I spill every single moment from the night.

  “Look at you, Joss. You’re radiating, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy. Not even when he-who-shall-not-be-named proposed.”

  “I know.” I stare down at my hands. “Isn’t it weird? I was going to marry him, Benji. For better or worse or whatever. And, it hit me tonight, I don’t think we really loved each other. Not like you’re supposed to love someone. It was more like, the best option or something. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “No.” Benji grabs my hand. “Maybe it’s why you went through all this. Maybe you had to hurt so bad to realize how much better it could be with someone else.”

  “I don’t know.” I force a dry laugh. “I wish fate or destiny or whatever is doling out life lessons handed me that one before I paid the deposit on the reception hall.”

  “Ouch.” Benji winces.

  “Not to mention the caterer, the flowers, the cake, the photographer …”

  “I know, I know. It’s awful. It really is,” he sympathizes. “But you know what? You wouldn’t have had your date if it wasn’t for all that. And we wouldn’t be here together, helping each other through our shit. So, kinda worth it?” His voice goes up.

  I look up at him and give his hand a squeeze. “Totally worth it,” I agree.

  “We should get to bed though.” He smirks. “Tomorrow you’re gonna get wet and ride a thick, hard …”

  “Benji!”
I pretend to be astonished and give him a push.

  “What? I was gonna say surfboard.” He laughs. “Why, what were you thinking?” He holds his hand to his chest. “Oh, you’re a dirty girl,” he teases me.

  “You love me,” I answer.

  “Sure do, babe. There’s nothing unloveable about you.” His eyes mist and mine line with tears. I know he didn’t mean to hit the nail on the head. To expose both of our biggest fears in what was supposed to be a reassuring statement. But there it is.

  “Same with you.” I squeeze his hand and we sniffle back our tears.

  Benji nods, but he won’t look me directly in the eye. “Enough of this or you’ll end up all puffy-eyed tomorrow.” He sniffles.

  “Okay, bedtime,” I agree.

  It doesn’t take long for us to get all tucked in for the night. Benji falls asleep quickly but I struggle to shut off my mind. I let my thoughts wander all over the map as soothing waves crash outside our open window. Still, they always find their way back to the same thing, echoing inside my skull faintly, even as my eyelids finally grow heavy and I begin to drift off.

  Is there something wrong with me? Will I ever find anyone who truly and completely loves me for exactly who I am?

  10

  Finn

  Wisps of steam softly curl from my coffee mug. I blow them away when I take a sip and stare down the almost vacant beach. Everyone talks about Hawaii at sunset, and I agree they make spectacular pictures.

  Ocean sunsets are hard to beat. They’re romantic as fuck for one, chicks lose their mind when they see them here. Like they’ve never seen the sun go down in their hometowns before. For two, sunset is usually when the drinks get stronger and the talks get deeper and the real magic of this island takes hold. It’s a good time. There’s no denying that.

  Still, there’s one thing better than a Hawaiian sunset, being on the waves when the huge ball of fire we call the sun swells from the edge of the ocean and climbs the pristine blue sky. Sunsets might be romantic, but sunrises around here, those will change your life.