Forget About It

by Jessie Harper

  “Holy shit!” Cassie’s back on the surface, her face obscured by the giant plastic mask. She spits out her snorkel and leaves it hanging on the side of her head. “Did you see that?”

  “I saw you almost drown,” I tease.

  Cassie slaps the water in front of her, trying to splash me. I pull the mask off my face and give her a grin. “Come over here, that mask is making me crazy.”

  “Too sexy to resist?”

  “Exactly.”

  She swims over, sliding into my arms. My attempts at reaching her mouth are thwarted by the plastic. “This mask is a good deterrent. I’ll have to remember that.” Cassie laughs. Her eyes are magnified behind the lens, glittering green orbs with just enough mischief to keep me trying.

  “You’ll have to take it off eventually,” I taunt. “I can be very patient.”

  “You’re the most patient man I know,” Cassie tells me. “Blessing and a curse.” She pulls the mask off her face and lets me put my lips on hers. “Thanks for this.”

  “For kissing you? No need to thank me for that.” I go in for another, but Cassie pulls back, tilting her head back to look me square in the eye.

  “No, for today. Best day ever.” She smiles at me and I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking her to marry me on the spot. The look on her face is one I want to see every day for the rest of my life. That’s a thought guaranteed to send Cassie swimming back to the boat like a shark’s after her, and since I want her to stay right where she is, I keep my big mouth shut.

  “Know what would make this day even better?” I give a little push with my hips.

  “Are you kidding?” Cassie yelps. “Put that away. You’re going to scare the fish.”

  I tilt my head back and laugh, still keeping Cassie pressed against me. She laughs too, putting her lips against my neck and I wish we could keep this moment forever—the easiness of it. Even more than keeping it I want to have it again and again, over and over, at home in front of everyone. Again, I push that sentiment down and try to focus on right now. “Fine. I’ll just use some of that patience we were talking about, but when we get back to the villa…” I cock an eyebrow to go with my threat and Cassie shivers.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she tells me before slithering out of my grasp and swimming off, leaving me treading water. I’ll think about this moment later, the way she looks with the sun reflecting off her hair and just a kiss of pink on her shoulders. I’ll wish I had a photo of this instead of the selfie I take of the two of us on the bow of the boat with the sun setting behind us.

  Best day ever.

  33

  Cassie

  On our last afternoon together we walk along the beach. From the villa it’s easy to pick our way over the rocks until we’re back on the sand closer to one of the resorts. Graham holds my hand in his and I let him instead of pulling it back like I would at home. He’s right—here there’s no one to see us, no one to look at us touching and think twice about it. I let my arm press against his as we walk along, the hot sand beginning to burn the bottom of my feet. He pulls me closer to the surf and the water splashes up against my calves.

  “Let’s go in.” He gives me a grin.

  “We are in.”

  “No, let’s swim out. Last chance to enjoy the ocean.”

  He’s right. We’ve been so busy with the wedding and trying to keep our relationship a secret and then after that with spending every minute naked that we’ve ignored the beach. His sailboat trip is the only time we’ve really been in the water since we decided to extend our stay. He tugs me against him and I can feel the sunshine on his skin. I know that if I lean forward and brush my lips against his chest, he’ll be even warmer than usual. “Come on. One swim.”

  Graham lets go of my hand, turns to the water, and jogs out. He looks back over his shoulder and calls to me again. “Hustle up, Firecracker!”

  I groan. “We don’t have any towels!” I yell after him, but he’s already waist deep. He jumps a little to avoid a wave and then dives under. When he comes up a few feet farther away, I give up and follow him into the water. I don’t dive under, but try to walk out, feeling the sandy bottom with my feet. I hate the surprise of stepping on something unexpected and so I poke along until the water begins to splash against my belly.

  “What are you doing?” Graham laughs. “Just swim out here. It’s not like you can’t swim.”

  “I have to ease in,” I protest. “The water’s cold!”

  Graham laughs again, leaning his head back. Water droplets hang on his shoulders and chest and he looks like an ad in a surfing magazine—all blond hair and tan skin. “It makes it worse to go slow. Just dunk yourself under.”

  I think about this, if I can just dunk myself under. Part of me wants to, just to throw myself into this, but part of me also wants to run back to the beach. I keep the same slow pace until the water is just hitting my chest. My nipples harden as the icy water splashes them and I take in a sharp breath. Graham comes back toward me, looking amused.

  “For someone so fearless, you sure are taking a long time.” Once he’s close to me he holds out his hand again. “I thought you’d beat me out here. Should’ve made it a race or something.”

  I take his hand with scowl. Graham pulls me out to deeper water and I feel for the bottom with my toes.

  “I don’t think I can stand here.”

  “I can. Just hold on to me.” He pulls again and brings me in front of him. I float a few inches away from him until he wraps his arms around my waist and slides me up against him. I watch his face change as he feels my nipples press into his chest.

  “I told you it was cold,” I whisper. Our faces are so close I can see flecks of sand along his jaw line, see when his lips open just enough for his tongue to dart out. He runs a hand to the nape of my neck and presses his lips against mine. Automatically I open for him, letting him possess my mouth, eagerly kissing him back. His other hand cruises along the exposed skin on my stomach, moving higher until he finds my breast. He eases his fingers under the triangle of fabric and tweaks my nipple.

  “Graham.” My voice is a warning.

  “What?” He’s the picture of innocence.

  “We can’t do this here.”

  “Do what?” He puts his lips on the side of my neck and gives the skin there an open-mouthed kiss.

  “You know what. We can’t. People will see.”

  Graham keeps kneading my breast as he scans the beach. “There’s hardly anyone out and they aren’t paying attention to us anyway.”

  He turns us so I have a view of the beach. It’s late afternoon and the place has cleared out. Only one family remains near the edge of the water. The two small children run back and forth between the surf and their parents.

  “And we’re up to our necks in the water,” Graham adds. “No one will see.” He keeps his voice even, soothing me, but when the movement of the ocean bumps our bodies together, I feel his erection. He kisses me again and I can feel his hand moving slowly south. When his fingers dip into the top of my bikini bottom, I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Graham, I swear if we get arrested or something I will fucking kill you.”

  “There’s my adventurous girl,” he growls into my ear. “I knew you were still in there somewhere. We won’t get arrested. I promise.” He looks in my eyes, his face serious. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  His girl? It’s a throwaway line but my heart lurches in my chest. He’s not Prince Charming. He’s not here to protect me. I put on my best annoyed face and raise an eyebrow. Graham just grins again and makes a move to bite my bottom lip. We’re bobbing up and down now with the water and when he slides his hand lower and his fingers graze my pussy, I have to stifle a groan. He finds my clit and uses his thumb to work in a slow circle as he eases one long finger inside me. He’s gotten good at knowing what I like and he’s using that to his advantage now. If he keeps this up for much longer, I’ll be begging him to fuck me and not caring who hear
s me.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  I do it without hesitation as he forces the top of his swim trunks down, freeing himself. He moans as I rub myself against him, the only thing between us is the flimsy fabric of my swimsuit. He yanks that aside and positions the head of his cock against my opening. Even though I know what’s coming, I gasp a little when he enters me.

  He fills me with a grunt and waits for me to adjust. I work my legs more tightly against him and he lets out a little half laugh like he can’t believe we’re doing this either. There’s the combination of the water and the sunshine, the salty air and our bodies making me forget everything else.

  Graham presses his forehead against mine and thrusts up into me. I force myself back down and we get into a rhythm, slow and steady, almost languorous. The water laps up around us and I wrap my arms around his neck. His hands tighten on my waist and he slides me up and down over his shaft until I’m breathless. He’s making soft, measured little murmurs and I open my eyes to find him looking directly at me. We stare at each other, him slowly fucking me as I try to keep quiet. I can feel myself tightening, my orgasm building and as much as I want to, I know I can’t come if I’m looking at him. Already this closeness is too much. Tomorrow we’re back to reality and that means no more Graham. I can’t get any more attached than I already am. Looking at him now doesn’t feel like an easy fling. Looking at him now feels like something real so I wrench my face away from his and bite down hard into the muscle of his shoulder. He hisses, but doesn’t stop thrusting into me. I know I’m hurting him, but it only makes him fuck me harder until we both shatter around each other, fighting not to call attention to ourselves.

  I release my teeth from Graham’s shoulder, panting. I can feel him still pulsing inside me, his breathing fast and hard against my neck. From where we are I can see the family on the beach, oblivious to what we’re up to in the water. They remind me of Julia and Zach with her boys—smiles and sunburned noses. The kids are piling buckets of sand on the feet of their father, laughing as he tries to free himself over and over again. My eyes well up with tears as jealousy bubbles up inside me. I’m jealous. Jealous of that family and how happy they are. Suddenly I want that for myself. And the best shot I have of getting that is right now tangled up with me, his cock still deep inside me. My best shot at that is Graham.

  Which means I can never have it. I will fuck this up six ways from Sunday and ruin him in the process. We’ll both lose Julia and he’ll never forgive me.

  I have to let him go.

  34

  Graham

  She’s pulling away.

  Before we even make it to the airport Cassie’s distant. Sure, she’s still holding my hand, still smiling up at me when I look down into her green eyes, but the connection’s not there. After all we’ve done these past few days, after how close we’ve gotten, it hurts more than any tackle I’ve ever made. I’d rather have my face pushed into the turf than watch Cassie pretend everything’s normal. I thought she’d see how good we are together but she’s going back to the way we were before.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as we settle into our seats.

  “Nothing.” She gives me a big smile. A big, fake smile. Not the carefree grin she’s been giving me. “First class, huh? That’s a little much, don’t you think?”

  “I’m too big for the seats in economy. That’s my excuse,” I try to joke. I upgraded Cassie’s seat without asking her because I already knew how she’d react. She’d probably prefer economy. And not to be sitting anywhere near me.

  “It’s expensive,” Cassie tells me as she pulls her airline blanket up to her chin. “It’ll take me a while to pay you back.”

  “You aren’t paying me back.” I bristle. “Consider it a gift.”

  Cassie rolls her eyes.

  “What? I can’t buy nice things for my girl?” I lean over and kiss the top of her head and try not to get angry when she tenses. Maybe she just needs more time to get used to us being out in public. Mexico was like our own little universe. Our own perfect little world where I had Cassie all to myself. I can’t expect her to be the same at home. I try to tamp down the anxiety I feel taking over. I have to be realistic. Mexico was a vacation and now we’re back to real life. Real life that I thought would include telling everyone we know we’re together.

  “I’m going to try to sleep.” Cassie rolls away from me to face the window.

  “I tired you out, did I?”

  Again she barely gives me a flash of teeth. “A little. I need to be back at work early tomorrow and I don’t want to show up dead on my feet.” Cassie tosses this over her shoulder as she curls up. She can’t really spread out much with her seat upright but apparently she can’t wait to postpone her nap until after takeoff.

  “Do you want a drink? They’ll come through in a second with drink service. That’s another perk of being up here instead of in the back. No waiting and real glasses.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Don’t you at least want to wait until you can put the seat a little flatter?” I sound like my grandmother. Nag, nag, nag.

  “I’m fine like this. I really don’t want to talk, okay?” Cassie lets out a deep breath.

  Pin pricks of uncertainty have me wanting to reach over and give Cassie a shake. I want to pull her into my lap and kiss her until she remembers that we’re on the same side here, that she doesn’t need to protect herself from me. I make a move to haul her over the armrest but I’m saved from that terrible decision by the arrival of the flight attendant. By the time she gets my drink order and moves on to the next customer Cassie’s fast asleep.

  35

  Graham

  When we landed and Cassie pretended to be too exhausted to come back to my place and too busy to have me come to hers, I tried not to let the bruise on my heart get the best of me. I’ve usually got a few default options for dealing with disappointment, but it’s been a while since I’ve had to use them for losses that weren’t about football. The first week of radio silence burns, but I keep from chasing after her. I allow myself two calls. Both go straight to voicemail. The second week doesn’t feel much better and I try a few tentative texts which she ignores. Halfway through week three I’m going crazy, the urge to show up at her apartment or to stalk her at work becoming too difficult to resist. Christmas comes and goes without a word. I punish myself at the gym and up my running schedule knowing neither of those will fix things long term. Just when I feel like I’ve made some progress with Cassie I always find myself taking two steps back. I need a different perspective so I decide to try an old tactic I haven’t tried in a while.

  “Mom!” I yell as I turn the knob to let myself into the front hallway of my childhood home. I’m instantly transported back to middle school. Old photos line the walls—me in my pee wee football uniform, Julia and I as prom king and queen, my mother and father on their wedding day. I’ve been passing these photos all my life and right now I need all this nostalgia. I let the smell of homemade meatloaf and the sound of my mother making dinner in the kitchen wash over me.

  “In the kitchen,” my mother calls and I follow her voice through the living room to find her mixing something with a wooden spoon in her newly remodeled kitchen. Last year I finally convinced her to get new appliances after years of cajoling. Could I help it if the new fridge didn’t fit with the old cabinets? My mother hates to spend money unnecessarily and resisted letting me buy her anything when what she had was “perfectly fine.” No amount of professional success would change her mind. I ended up surprising her while she was away on a trip with her girlfriends and just hoped that she’d be able to forgive me. She loves the new stove, so luckily, I was saved.

  “Come in and help me. I’ve made too much food! I got all excited when you said you were coming over.” She leans over so I can plant a kiss on her cheek. I get a whiff of my mother’s perfume and know that coming home tonight for dinner was the right choice.

  “You didn’t have t
o make anything. We could have ordered in.” I always say this, but my mother knows better. When I come home I love having my mom make me dinner. Nothing beats Jackie’s meatloaf—it’s basically the reason I made it to the pros.

  “Well, I wasn’t sure if you were bringing someone…” She doesn’t make eye contact and for that I’m grateful. I think the hurt would be so obvious on my face I’d be unable to hide it.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Maybe another time?” my mother asks, still not looking at me.

  “I’m not sure if that’s ever going to happen, Ma.” Admitting it pokes at that soft spot I’ve been trying to protect.

  “No?” Jackie’s head snaps up. “What happened?”

  I haven’t told my mother anything about Cassie, but apparently she knows all about it. I could blame Steve or my agent, but in the end I appreciate not having to start from the beginning. “Nothing. She just isn’t ready, I guess.”

  “Well, can you blame her? After meeting her mother I can see why she’d be a little gun shy. You need to give her time.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing, but it doesn’t seem to be working. She’s…”

  “She’s tougher than you’re used to.” Leave it to my mother to get right to the point.

  I laugh. “That’s true, I guess.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having to work a little.” She’s back to moving around the kitchen before I can argue. “Sometimes that makes you appreciate things more when you get them.”