by Ellie Cahill
He tasted like the sea, and the coolness of the water around us made the heat of his mouth all the hotter. Weightlessness made it so easy to shift our bodies together. It was effortless to wind my legs around his waist. We kissed hungrily as we had last night, and giggled together when the waves made Jake stumble a step or two before he could ground himself again.
“I like this,” Jake slid one fingertip down the strap of my sports bra. “You look hot in it.” His finger moved to the center where the front zipper held the bra closed. I held my breath while he tugged the zipper down just half an inch at first. He caught my eyes, checking my reaction. I just bit my lip. He tugged again, another inch, and the bra began to strain open. It was a hell of a bra—crazy supportive—but it wasn’t a match for my big boobs once the zipper was past the halfway point.
I clenched my thighs tighter around him. I wasn’t sure I was ready to show him everything, especially in broad daylight. But at the same time, there was something so delicious about the feeling of the water against my skin. What would it be like to be bared to the ocean completely? And bared to Jake.
My nerves won out and I covered Jake’s hand with my own. “Not here,” I said.
“Okay.” He didn’t pull the zipper back up, though. Instead he dipped his finger into my cleavage and traced the curve of one breast.
I shivered, and kissed him again.
Jake’s hands shifted to my hips and pulled me tightly against him, showing in no uncertain terms that he was one-hundred percent into what was happening here. I made a sound of surprise.
He was instantly concerned. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I…you surprised me.”
“Sorry, I just…” He leaned in, nuzzling my cheek and grazing my bottom lip with his. “I want you.”
Heat rushed through me. Those three words were almost as precious as I love you as far as my body was concerned. I wanted him, too. Bad.
And yet…
I bit my lip as my heart started to beat as fast as when we’d been running. “Ashley says that she and Luke are just ‘a Mexico thing.’ Is that what’s happening here?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Just ‘I don’t know?’” I echoed.
“I came here determined not to have any expectations, so for now…I don’t know.”
“That can’t be the your answer. I’m not looking for a fling. I’m not a fling, Jake.”
“I know.”
“So…what are we doing?”
“I just don’t want to waste this chance we have right now.“
“I don’t want to want you as much as I do right now,” I confessed. “You’re too far away for me to want you so much.”
“I’m not far away right now.”
“I know, but…” My voice broke.
“It’s okay, Mary.”
“It’s not. I want what Emmy and Beck have. I want what Brady and Hadley have. I even want what stupid Phil from the plane and his wife have. I want the all the time. I want the hard parts, and the stupid parts, and the parts about toilet paper, and bills, and maybe even the baby I wasn’t ready for. I want a life. I want all the time love. And I can’t have all that while I keep thinking about you.”
“So what do you want to do about that?”
I kissed him. Hard and wet and salty with sweat and ocean water and tears. I kissed him while the waves pushed and pulled at us and the sun warmed our heads and the seabirds screamed and cawed overhead.
And when I let go, I told him, “I don’t know. But I don’t think I can do this.”
18
Just When Things Were Going Well
The dripping wet, sandy walk back to the hotel was agony. We didn’t say more than ten words to each other. Only those necessary to gather our abandoned belongings from the beach. It didn’t feel like a typical awkward silence, though. The kind where all you can seem to hear is the rushing air around you not being filled with talk. Instead, my brain seemed to have its volume turned up to 65. I’m not even sure I could have heard him over the sound of my own thoughts.
It could have been so romantic. I could have just kept kissing him there in the shallows. I could have kept my mouth shut and not dumped my entire relationship bucket list onto him and told him he didn’t fit the bill. I could have been walking hand-in-hand with him, feeling on top of the world to be spending a beautiful day on a beautiful beach with a guy I’d had a crush on for years. But no, I’d told him I wanted toilet paper issues, and a baby.
Dear everyone, if you want to turn off a twenty-five year old guy, tell him you might want an unexpected baby. Sincerely, Mary O’Brien
What had I been thinking? Why had stupid Brady had to knock up his dumb girlfriend and why did I have to be the one to know about it? It was all their fault I had babies on the brain these past two days. Them and my dumb sister and her dumb perfect angel baby newborn.
I didn’t even want a baby right away. It was just something I wanted to do with my life. I’d always wanted to be a mom. And as much as I knew it wasn’t really how a lot of people my age felt, I kind of wanted to be a young mom. I’d loved having young, energetic parents. We’d always done fun things together, and I loved the idea of them being around for my kids. They would be the best grandparents.
But that didn’t mean I was putting “Baby Fever” on my dating website profiles. I definitely wasn’t one of those horror stories you hear about where a woman goes around sleeping with a bunch of guys deliberately trying to get pregnant. Hell, I hadn’t even been on a date in like a year. I slept with exactly two guys in my whole life.
So why did I tell Jake I wanted a baby?
Why did I tell Jake all of that crap?
Someone should put a muzzle on me. I needed constant supervision. It was a wonder a real, live hospital was willing to put me in charge of other people’s health and safety. I was clearly not meant for this adulting business.
I couldn’t tell if I’d stunned Jake into silence or if he was trying to give me space. Maybe he was just hoping I’d laugh and say “Just kidding! Let’s go back to my room and have no-strings-attached sex!”
Finally, after at least 297 years of walking down the beach in awkward silence, we got back to the hotel. Neither of us looked for anyone on the beach, or paused by the pool area to see if there were any familiar faces. Yet it wasn’t until we turned toward the rooms at the same time that either of us acknowledged we were heading in the same direction. We bumped shoulders, and both reacted like we’d been shocked, leaping back with mumbled apologies.
“Sorry, I just wanted to—”
“No, no, it’s my fault.”
“I was just going…”
“Need to get changed.”
“Right.”
“Go ahead.”
“No, you go ahead.”
We made After You gestures at each other, both started walking and nearly collided again, then stopped and repeated the whole idiotic charade.
Finally, Jake sighed and made a Hold On motion with his hands. “There’s room for both of us,” he said. “Ladies first.”
Face red, I took a step down the path. He fell in step, not quite beside me, but close behind my left shoulder. My room would come up first, I knew, and there was no way to know if Ashley was still inside. If she was awake, and saw us together, she was going to pounce. I knew it.
I paused outside the door without unlocking it. “You don’t have to wait,” I said.
There was hurt in his eyes.
“Ash might be in there.”
“Right. Well…” He made a helpless gesture. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
He lingered another second, then turned and walked away.
I braced myself for possibly Ashley assault, and let myself inside.
19
Les Misérables sur la Plage
If you’ve never had the experience of being miserable while on vacation, let me assure you it’s not worth it. The contrast of
a serene, tropical beach, warm sun, and unlimited tropical drinks, with feeling like the world is ending and you’ve ruined potentially the most important relationship in your life is more than anyone should have to deal with.
All I can say is god bless sunglasses. Dark sunglasses you can hide behind.
No where felt right. I didn’t feel like I should be allowed to enjoy beautiful scenery, but it was everywhere. Even my hotel room was more lushly appointed than my bedroom at home. Besides, it had that same, pesky ocean view as the beach. Lounging at the pool felt frivolous. And hiding out in another part of the resort would only raise other people’s suspicions.
I finally decided to slink down to the beach and hide in the shade of an umbrella. I’d bring a book and pretend to be completely absorbed. Maybe I’d fake a hangover and everyone would take pity on me by ignoring me completely.
The plan fell apart immediately. The second I started looking for a quiet place to sit, Reina spotted me and called me over. The wedding guests had staked out a large area on the beach, with a collection of lounge chairs gathered under and around a couple of the thatched palapas. There was a variety of shade and sun, and even a bit of both under the gently swaying fronds of a palm tree.
In other words, vacation perfection.
I didn’t belong here.
But I waved to acknowledge Reina’s call and joined the group, silently praying my sunglasses were as eye-disguising as they’d seemed in the bathroom mirror.
“The waiter should be back any second,” Reina told me when I arrived. “You can get a drink!”
“No thanks.” I shook my head. “I think I need to pump the brakes today.”
Travis, another of the Iowa guests, pointed to a sun bed a few yards away. “You’ll want the non-drinking section.”
I looked in the direction he was pointing, and spotted Hadley sprawled on the sun bed with her arm draped over her eyes. Instantly, my intention to check on her came back to me, and my nurse instincts kicked in.
I hurried to join her in the shade and sat gingerly on the far side of the wide, waterproofed cushion.
Hadley lifted her arm to see who was there and groaned softly. “Hi Mary.”
“I heard you weren’t feeling so hot,” I said.
She shook her head. “No.”
“I’m sorry Brady left you alone.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I wanted him to.”
“Do you want to be alone now?” I asked, already preparing to rise.
“As long as you don’t touch me, you can stay.”
“I wasn’t planning on touching you.”
She made a Be My Guest gesture, and covered her eyes again.
“Can I get you anything?”
“A tranquilizer dart to put me out of my misery?” she suggested.
“Sorry. Fresh out.”
“Then, no.”
I didn’t make her talk for a while, focusing on my book. Not that I could really read the words on the page. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. But it was easy enough to hold the book in front of my face and surreptitiously scan the beach. I didn’t know where Ashley had ended up. She wasn’t in the room when I got back from my run and crushing Jake’s soul. I just hoped she’d kept her promise to me not to go gossiping to Emmy about me and Jake. If I could head her off at that pass, I could at least spare some embarrassment. For me and for Jake.
For that matter, I didn’t know where Jake was.
“Where’s Brady?” I asked Hadley, thinking he might know Jake’s location.
She raised her arm again to look at me. “He was hungry. I told him to eat as far away from me as possible.”
That made me smile. “That’s probably always a good idea where Brady is involved.”
She smiled weakly. “You guys would be impressed with him these days. Except when he’s at work, he’s really pretty clean.”
“He was never as bad as we make him out to be,” I admitted. “We just love to tease him.” I thought about it, and added, “Although nobody could wreak havoc on a bathroom like him.” I laughed. “I don’t know how you get water that far out of the shower.”
She laughed softly. “I know, right? I swear he doesn’t close the curtain. There’s no other explanation.”
I smiled. “Boys are gross.”
One of her hands fluttered to her stomach, and her eyebrows drew together in worry.
I didn’t know what had triggered her thoughts, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on her mind. “It’ll be okay,” I told her.
“I hope so.”
“It will be. Brady’s a good guy. He’ll do the right thing.”
“I don’t want that,” she said softly.
“You don’t?”
“No. I don’t want to be anyone’s obligation.” She shook her head. “I want him to want to marry me—or not marry me! That’s fine, too. But please, god, don’t marry me because you have to. Ugh.”
Just then, the large form of Brady caught my eye. He was making his way toward us from the resort, a drink in each hand.
“Speak of the devil,” I said.
Hadley raised her head, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun off the water. “And he shall appear…”
“Hey Brady,” I called.
“You stole my spot,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I started to get up, but Hadley put out a hand.
“You’re way too nice,” she said. “Move your feet, lose your seat,” she told him.
“HB, you wound me.” Brady shook his head. “And to think I brought you a ginger ale…”
“You did?” She pushed herself onto her elbows.
“I did.” He held out one of the glasses in his hands, but drew it back when she reached for it. “But clearly, you don’t find my offerings of love acceptable.”
“Says the man who left me hanging over the toilet this morning.”
“You threatened my manhood.”
“And I’d do it again.” She did a grabby hand gesture. “Gimme.”
He shook his head with mock sadness and looked at me. “Do you see what I put up with, Mary?”
“William, I swear to god!” Hadley said.
He sighed dramatically but handed over the drink. She took a sip, and closed her eyes with relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” All the playfulness melted out of him and he stepped closer, settling carefully on the edge of the sun bed to look at his girlfriend. “Are you feeling any better?”
“A little,” she said.
“Good.” He leaned in, clearly intending to kiss her forehead, but paused. “Are you going to dismember me if I touch you?”
“Not this time.”
“Okay then.” He kissed her gently on her hairline, then added another kiss to her freckle-covered cheekbone.
She didn’t respond in kind, but rested her hand on his chest when he sat up. “Love you,” she said.
“Told you,” he responded.
She rolled her eyes and gave him a barely-there push. He laughed and took a sip of his own drink—something clearly more adult-oriented than ginger ale.
My heart squeezed as I watched them.
They were so good together. Even the teasing was clearly in their comfort zone. And the affection was so real I could almost taste it. I was so happy for Brady, but at the same time I was so scared for him. I’d told Hadley everything would be all right when she finally told him she was pregnant, but I couldn’t know that.
Please let him be the kind of man I want him to be. For her. I sent the words up to the clear blue sky, unsure who I was pleading with, or what exactly I was pleading for. I just wanted one of the many secrets all around me to work out in a good way.
I wanted my friends to get their happily ever after. Someone in my life should, if it couldn’t be me.
20
Mysteries of Middlesex
Eventually I did give up my spot to Brady, and found another seat in the shade. Mandy was nea
rby, although she’d dragged her lounge chair into the sun, where she was lying face down with her bikini top untied to avoid tan lines.
I resisted the urge to ask her if she was wearing sunscreen. I’d found that not everyone in the world was quite as receptive to my care-taking tendencies as my college roommates had been.
Mandy turned her head to look at me without getting up. “How was your run?” she asked.
“Harder than I expected,” I said. That was true. It had been physically harder than I’d expected, but that was nothing compared to how emotionally hard my life when I rejected Jake.
“Thanks again for this morning,” she said. “I’m sorry you got stuck with my little breakdown.”
“No worries,” I told her. “Everyone is entitled to the feels once in a while, right?”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I just know I’m going to be crying at the wedding later, too. Weddings always make me cry.”
“Me, too.” I said. “And I’ve never even been to a friend’s wedding yet, only family. I’m probably going to cry like a baby!”
She smiled. “I’ve been to a few friends’ weddings. It’s definitely more emotional than when you’re a kid and your aunt is getting married or whatever.”
“I never would have thought it would be Emmy and Beckett who got married first,” I said.
“Really?” she said. “They’re like an old married couple already.”
“Are they?” I asked.
“Don’t you think?” She started to push herself up to her elbows, but remembered her loose top and dropped down to do some arm gymnastics and tie it back up. When she was satisfied, she propped herself on her elbows to face me more completely. “The first time I met them I was like ‘Holy adorable couple.’”
Weird, I thought. I’d assumed Mandy was in their class, but she must not have been if they were a couple by the time she met them. My mental math was screwy. “I’m still not used to it, I guess.”
“Really?” she looked dubious. “To everyone at Middlesex, they’re relationship goals. All the girls want a Beck of their own.”