Held Against You

by Season Vining

  “Noon.”

  “So, we’ve got plenty of time.”

  I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Time for what?”

  She scoots forward in her chair and meets my eyes. “Come back to bed with me,” she says. “Just to talk. It seems to be the only place you’re comfortable talking.”

  I don’t answer her. I don’t want to talk. I want to explore her body and forget about everything else.

  Kat stands and grabs my hand resting on the table. She tugs on it until I follow her back to bed. She curls up on her side, facing me, while I lie on my back.

  The room is quiet except for the static noise of waves hitting the shore. It’s a soothing tempo that puts me at ease.

  “I met a girl yesterday,” she says. “Her name is Piper. She’s from Denver. Says she always comes down for Carnaval.” I stay quiet as Kat sighs, blowing her bangs from her eyes. “I forgot what it was like to have girlfriends, you know?” I nod and keep my eyes on the shadows of palm trees that dance across the ceiling. “Anyway, she’s going to Cabo, too. So hopefully we can hang out.”

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  “Kelli said no one has ever been to your house in Cabo.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So, why me?” she asks.

  I close my eyes and curse Kelli and her mouth. I knew she would make this a big deal. Because it is a big deal. I feel the bed shift and then Kat’s hand runs through my hair. I open my eyes and turn to look at her. Those bottomless blue eyes are begging me to open up, but not pushing.

  “I don’t know why. That’s the truth,” I say. “My house is my sanctuary. For some reason, I want to share it with you.” She ducks her head onto my shoulder and I feel her smile against my chest. I’m confused and encouraged by her reaction. “My mom used to tell me that your home was supposed to be the one place you were safe and loved. She said she was sorry that ours wasn’t like that. She apologized over and over for it. But she would never leave him.”

  Kat rests her head on my shoulder and scoots closer. She throws one leg over mine, anchoring us together.

  “What makes them stay?” she asks. “I’ll never understand it.”

  “Me either.”

  “Tell me something happy from your childhood. There had to be something good,” she says.

  I think back to a time that I’ve forced myself to forget. Of course there were happy moments. But they are so intertwined with the bad ones, it was easier to wipe them all away. A particular day from fourth grade sticks out.

  “One day I bombed a pop quiz at school and was so upset about it. I walked home, went straight to my room, and started throwing things around, breaking stuff. My mom came in and held me for a while and then said we needed to turn the day around. She tickled me until I couldn’t breathe. Then she put on one of her favorite records and we danced in the living room. She made French toast for dinner and let me stay up late.”

  Kat squeezes my shoulder. “That sounds great,” she says.

  I hold all these memories, each piece of my mom, inside because I always thought if I shared them then they would become less mine. I don’t feel that way at all. Reliving those good times keeps her alive and proves that she did exist.

  “Samuel?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When we get to Cabo, are you really going to walk away from me? From us?”

  I blow out a breath and squeeze my eyes shut again. The lock and chain around my pounding heart pulls tight and groans from the strain. It thumps against my chest like a wild animal rattling its cage.

  “We should start packing,” I say.

  “Samuel.”

  I sit up and slide out from under her. I busy myself by grabbing everything from around the room and throwing it into the suitcase. I can feel Kat watching me.

  “If we leave now, we can avoid most of the traffic as people leave town.”

  I make a pass around the room, picking up clothes as I go, and returning them to the suitcase.

  “Samuel,” Kat says again.

  “Maybe Jorge will be ready to go before noon. We should try to—”

  “Samuel!” she shouts. I stop and spin to face her. “Come here.” I don’t move. “Come. Here,” she says with authority. My feet shuffle slowly to the foot of the bed. Kat reaches for me and pulls me down to sit. She crawls into my lap and straddles me, crossing her ankles behind my back. “You don’t have to answer the question.”

  I meet her eyes and see sincerity and apology there. I pull Kat closer and press my lips to hers. She tastes like coffee and everything Kat. Her body fits against mine so perfectly that I don’t want to let her go. I don’t know if I can.

  “I’m going to take a shower and then we can head to the airport. Okay?” she whispers against my neck before placing a kiss there and hopping off my lap.

  I watch her grab some clothes and retreat into the bathroom. I stare at the closed door for a while, dazed. How can I have faced such evil, terrible people in my life and never fear them like I do that beautiful girl?

  I throw the last few items into the suitcase and step out onto the patio. The cloudless sky is reflected in the blue water. Seagulls call out as the breeze blasts against my skin. It’s peaceful and quiet here, a welcome change from what’s going on in my head.

  I take a seat in one of the lounge chairs and lean back. I hear Kat exit the bathroom and finish packing up. She steps to the door letting the wind whip around her. She wears a strapless dress in yellow; the color is warm and welcoming against her tan skin. The material looks soft and everywhere it touches her body, it molds around her curves. It’s long, all the way to her feet, and she’s breathtaking.

  “I’m ready,” she says, looking out over the water.

  I nod and follow her to the door. Kat grabs her purse and I pick up the suitcase. Before the door closes behind us, I take one last look at the room. With its floors and pale walls, it looks generic and unimpressive. It’ll never reveal what was done here or what was said. For now, our secrets are safe.

  As I throw the suitcase into the truck, I notice Kat staring across the parking lot.

  “What’s wrong?” She doesn’t answer. “Kat?”

  “Huh?” She turns to look at me and then back in the other direction. “Oh, nothing I guess.” I walk over to where she stands and look around for anything out of the ordinary. “I just … Well, that car looks just like one I saw when we stopped to eat yesterday. I guess it could be a coincidence.”

  “Which one?”

  “The black Mercedes,” she answers, pointing out the car.

  I study it closely. It has illegal tint and California plates. The black paint fades into a red brown mess where dirt and road dust have covered the bottom. I memorize the license plate and make a mental note to check it before we take off.

  “Probably a coincidence,” I agree though something tells me there’s more.

  22: her

  Samuel lets Jorge know we’re ready to take off and buckles up. I grip the seat so tightly my fingers ache. Samuel is busy typing away on his phone, looking relaxed.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Checking on that Mercedes. It’s registered to a Troy Middleton of Palo Alto, California. I don’t recognize the name. You?”

  I shake my head and grip onto the armrest. We taxi to the runway and within minutes we’re in the air. I feel nauseated and dizzy before I remind myself to breathe. I inhale deeply through my nose and wipe my palms on my lap.

  “Are you scared of flying?” he asks.

  “A little,” I admit. “Why are we flying anyway?”

  “Because it’s a fifteen-hour drive including a four-hour ferry ride. This is faster.”

  I nod and look out the window. Samuel digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.

  “Hold that for a sec,” he says.

  He reaches over and unlatches the plane door. The sound of air rushing around us makes me nervous.

  “What are you doing?” I yel
l, pressing myself against the opposite wall.

  “Señor?” Jorge asks from the front of the plane, but the sound is lost to Samuel.

  He holds his hand out and motions for his phone. I hand it over. Samuel flips it out of the door and closes the hatch, locking it back. I straighten in my seat and smooth out the skirt of my dress.

  “That was a bit dramatic,” I say after a few moments.

  “But necessary,” he answers. “I can’t have any ties to my previous life.”

  Suddenly, the plane dips and my stomach jumps into my throat.

  “Oh shit!” I say. I loop my arm through his and squeeze tightly. “Distract me.”

  Samuel leans in and places a kiss on my bare shoulder. “My house in Cabo is a three-bedroom bungalow on a private beach,” he tells me. “It has white stucco with blue shutters.” He moves to my neck and nibbles softly. “The entire back of the house opens up to the beach and when the breeze blows through, you can feel it in every corner.” He presses his tongue against my pulse point and slides up to my ear. The scruff from his chin rakes along my skin. “There are palm trees and flowers all around the property.” His hand rests on my knee, drawing circles with his thumb on my inner thigh. “It’s the only place on earth that holds anything personal of mine.”

  “It sounds great,” I gasp as Samuel scrapes his teeth along my earlobe.

  The plane bumps again and a whimper slips from my lips before I slap my hand over my mouth.

  “Kat, it’s fine. Relax.”

  “Relax? Now you’ve got me all worked up,” I whisper, keeping my eyes on Jorge. Samuel laughs as I pout. I place my hand on his thigh and I lean over, whispering, “You should feel how worked up I am.”

  His entire body stiffens, blood rushing south. Samuel runs his fingers up my thigh, but I slap his hand away.

  “What?” he asks. “I’m just following instructions.”

  I shake a finger at him and cross my legs, effectively cutting him off. “Now we’re even,” I say, grinning triumphantly.

  We don’t talk for a while, just look out over the clouds caught between blue sky and fluffy white. Every few minutes I catch a glimpse of the water below until finally I see land again.

  * * *

  We arrive at Samuel’s house in a cab. He pays the driver and retrieves our suitcase from the trunk while I stand near the front door. The house is just as he described, a perfect little place with a stunning view. It sits at the end of a long narrow street, far from any neighbor. The palm trees and flowering hedges surround it like it’s a part of some secret oasis. I could definitely get used to living here.

  Samuel punches a code into a numbered keypad and swings the door open.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Turner,” he says.

  “Shouldn’t you carry me over the threshold or something?”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  I step inside and instantly feel welcomed. The floors are a rich terra cotta tile and the walls a buttery yellow. There are a few colorful paintings scattered throughout the room and bold print curtains on the windows.

  “This certainly doesn’t look like a bachelor pad,” I say spinning in a circle.

  “I hired help for the decor.” He sets the suitcase down and motions for me to come with him. “Let me give you a quick tour.”

  I follow Samuel down the hall where he points out a small office, a bathroom, a guest bedroom, and finally the master suite. The bed is on a low platform and is enormous. It’s covered in white linens and turquoise accent pillows. There’s a large sunset photo framed over the bed.

  The entire back wall of the room is glass. When he slides the curtains aside, I gasp at the sight there. Beyond the glass wall is a small wooden patio, then nothing but white sand all the way to the water. It’s breathtaking.

  “Wow,” I say pressing my nose to the glass.

  Samuel chuckles and stands beside me. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Come on, let’s finish the tour.”

  He shows me the huge master bathroom, complete with tub and stone shower and then leads me back out to the main room. The kitchen sits at the back of the house and another wall of glass lets light in to the space.

  I set my purse down on the counter and lean against the cabinets. Though his home is welcoming, it’s hard to feel at ease here. I don’t exactly know where I belong. Samuel stands at the back door looking out at the beach and I sense that he’s just as unsure as I am. I fidget with a drawer pull and wait for something. After a few minutes, I can’t stand the silence.

  “Samuel?” He turns to me. “When’s the last time you were here?”

  “Six months ago, but I called ahead and had my housekeeper air the place out and stock the kitchen. She also changed the sheets and bought bathroom stuff.”

  I grab a bottle of water and close the fridge. “Bathroom stuff?”

  He rubs at the back of his neck and looks at the floor. “You know, whatever you girls need for … you know.”

  I let out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. But it’s hilarious to watch you squirm.”

  There’s a long beat of silence before he blows out a breath and looks to the suitcase. “Should I put that in your room?” he asks.

  “My room? You’re not staying with me?”

  He looks out at the beach again and back to me. “I think it’ll be better for me to stay in the guest room.”

  I step toward him. “Because you’re leaving?” I ask. He nods and I step closer. “Don’t you think we’re past separate sleeping quarters?”

  I can feel the internal battle raging inside him. He doesn’t want to walk away, but thinks he needs to. How are we here when less than twenty-four hours ago, we were ravaging each other? This game of hot and cold is wearing on me, but I’m not defeated. I want to beg him to stay, to give us a chance, but that would only push him in the wrong direction. He’ll have to come to the decision on his own terms.

  Samuel shakes his head and walks off, leaving me standing there alone. He grabs the suitcase and disappears down the hall. There’s a tight pain in my chest, a hint of what’s to come. It doesn’t feel like he’s in the next room. It feels like he’s already gone.

  * * *

  In the morning, I unpack the rest of the clothes and make a list of what I’ll need. Samuel has lent me some money until I can figure out a way to earn a living here. I insist on paying him back and he insists on denying me.

  He was already in the water by the time I woke up. I watch Samuel from inside the house for a while. He looks so at home out there sitting on that board. The waves lift him up and down before he paddles hard and catches one. The way his body moves, swishing back and forth, looks like an erotic dance done just for me. After a few rides, I decide to stop being a creeper and focus on something else.

  I research upgrades for the current alarm system and install a program to monitor the motion sensors and keypad from his laptop. When I’m done with that, I find a few shelves of books and pick one with an interesting cover. I change into a bikini, grab a towel, and head outside to read. Deciding on some shade, I ungracefully climb into a hammock tied between two trees. I almost fall out twice, but finally get settled with my ankles crossed and the book on my stomach. I check on Samuel and though I can’t see his eyes, I feel them on me.

  An hour later, he emerges from the water. For me, it’s a slow motion Baywatch moment when he shakes the water from his hair and digs his board into the sand. Water droplets carve paths down his inked body bringing my gaze with them. The muscles of his arms and chest flex as he stretches. By the time he reaches me, I’m fanning myself with my book.

  “Hot?” he asks.

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m getting a beer. You want?” I stare at him dumbly. “Kat?”

  “Oh! Umm, I’ll come in.”

  Samuel nods and continues to the house. I watch him go for a few seconds before pouring myself out of the hammock and following.

  We meet at the kitchen island where he’s already opened a beer for
me.

  “Thanks,” I say taking a long pull from the bottle.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I could make us some lunch,” I offer.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Whatever magic we found in Guaymas was lost once we entered this house. It feels like an awkward dance of avoidance, like he doesn’t want me here in his space. I have no idea how to fix it.

  “I was thinking of going shopping tomorrow. Maybe looking up Piper.”

  Samuel nods and eats his sandwich. I’m only three bites in to my lunch when he hops up and mumbles his thanks. He tips his beer in my direction and walks away. Samuel stays in his room for the rest of the day. I approach his door a few times, but I don’t knock. I don’t know what to say. Instead, I lean my forehead against the wood door and silently beg him to open up.

  23. HIM

  I sit on my board in the water and look back at the house. It’s quiet and empty like it always has been. By the time I worked up the nerve to leave my room this morning, Kat was gone. I’m ashamed that I’ve become a coward here. Avoidance is never the solution to any problem. I know that, and just like a petulant child, I ignore it.

  It’s so hard being around her. She has me confused, my head spinning. Inwardly I wrestle with my attraction to her, my desire to protect her, and my feelings of inadequacy. Physically, Kat’s body calls to me with that familiar lure. I’ve been inside her, tasted her, and it taunts me until I’m a muted teenage boy with a crush. Somehow I find the strength to deny her. But it’s not just physical anymore. I want to be near her, to decipher her random eighties references and learn everything about her. It’s hard finding the middle ground between the man I am and the man she makes me want to be.

  Yet, as much as I’d like to fall into a relationship with Kat, it’s in her best interest that I don’t. It would be wild, but eventually the darkness that has followed me my entire life would descend upon us. I can’t do that to her. Not after everything she’s already been through. It’s my chicken-shit way of protecting her. I’ll be the bad guy and she’ll be better off.

  It’s best to just cut our losses now and when she’s comfortable here, say our good-byes. I transferred the money I earned capturing her into a bank account for her this morning, found her a Spanish tutor, and started looking for a place for me–somewhere far away from here.