by Jo Watson
I followed closely, watching him walk. I wish I hadn’t seen him half-naked, because now I knew what lay beneath those clothes and this had only ignited a full-blown war in my head. My primitive reptilian brain was waging a fierce war against my logical self, fighting for control. Images of a shirtless Damien flooded my mind, and then some kind of superhero avatar of myself jumped in and beat him. This went on and on until I felt positively exhausted. I tried to focus on something else, so I looked around.
There was a mangy, flea-bitten cat with half a tail scrounging in a dustbin to my left, a group of lady boys to my right. We walked past a giant red flashing light that said Girls and past a group of drunk, stumbling guys.
“Hey, baby.” I heard a whistle followed by a shout and turned around. One of the drunken guys had changed direction and was veering toward me, so I quickly put my head down and sped up.
“Hey, hey, baby. Don’t run from me.” I could almost smell the alcohol, even though he was still a few meters away.
Damien stopped walking and swung around. He wasted no time in grabbing me by the arm and pulling me behind him with such force that it actually hurt.
“Is there a problem here?” His tone was menacing, and I’d never heard it before. It clearly took the guy by surprise, too, because he held his hands up in resignation.
“No problem, bro. Just trying to hello to a beautiful lady. No crime in that.”
“Well, don’t.” Damien glared at him and took an intimidating stride forward. The man stepped back.
“Hey, buddy, no worries. No harm meant.” The drunken guy turned and stumbled away, but Damien carried on standing there, staring after him. I walked around and looked at him. He had a terrifyingly dangerous look on his face. His eyes were squeezed together into thin, black slits, and his face had contorted into a look that could kill. I shivered. Damien definitely had a dangerous streak, that’s for sure.
“Come,” he said forcefully, taking me by the hand and yanking hard. But this time I resisted and pulled my hand away. This hand-holding thing we were doing had to stop.
“What are you doing?” Anger rasped in his voice.
“I’m more than capable of walking on my own without you holding my hand,” I said as indignantly as I possibly could.
“I’m sure you are, but I’d rather you didn’t. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re not exactly in the most kosher part of town. Come.” Again, his hand came for me.
I pushed it away. “No!”
“Do I need to pick you up and throw you over my shoulder?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” He glared at me without blinking, his poker face revealing absolutely nothing that led me to conclude he was joking.
“Why do you even care?” I started walking again, striding ahead as fast as my short legs would take me.
Damien caught up to me quickly and grabbed me by the elbow. “What are you talking about, Lilly? Of course I care. I’m not going to let some drunken guy take advantage of you. Never.”
This was killing me. I couldn’t bear to look at him and focused all my attention on a little puddle by my foot instead. “Please just get me back to my hotel.”
There was another one of those awkward moments, and I heard Damien fill it with a loud sigh.
“Do we need to talk about the kiss?” His tone was calmer and even though I wasn’t looking directly at him, I could tell his demeanor had changed, too.
“No,” I said, trying to put on a brave face. “You made it perfectly clear that you regretted it and wished it hadn’t happened.”
“You think I wished it didn’t happen?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got it so wrong, Lilly. I don’t regret kissing you. I could never regret kissing you. It was…” He paused. “It was…” I looked up at him now and could see he was struggling to find the word, I could offer him a few: nice, great, amazing, hot?
He continued without saying it, but the implication was there. “And you’re so beautiful, but…” Our eyes met. “I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you. I know you’re hurting…”
Oh my God. He thought I was beautiful.
“That’s why I’m sorry it happened. Not because I didn’t enjoy it or want it. Because I really did. Enjoy it and want it.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This moment couldn’t be more perfect if I’d written the script myself. I was about to let him know that I, too, had enjoyed it, and I, too, had wanted to do it and that I would very much like to do it again, when….
“But I know it can never happen again. Ever. This is supposed to be your honeymoon for God’s sake. You’ve just been through hell and I don’t want to hurt you more. So I promise that I will never kiss you again, you have my word. So…”
He stepped forward and extended his hand.
“So…friends?” He looked up and smiled at me innocently.
Hang on a moment. Let’s just stop here. What just happened?
Shutters, Lilly! Shutters! Slam them now.
And so I agreed. “Friends.” I extended my hand and we shook on it. And I knew he was right—it was the right thing to do. Even though that other part of my brain was screaming at me, telling me to grab him, press him against me and kiss him—long, slow and deep.
A Tuk-Tuk drove up the street and Damien waved it down.
“Will you be okay going to your hotel alone, or do you want me to ride with you?”
“Where’re you going?”
“I’m leaving in a few hours.”
My heart sank. “Where?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“How can you not know where you’re going?”
A mischievous smile lit up his face. “I’m going to this party, they just haven’t sent out the map yet.”
I shook my head at him. The information was not computing.
“Once a year they have this party. The location is kept a secret until two days before. It’s always in Thailand, though. This past year it was in the jungle—it took me two days just to hike there.”
“That sounds terrible,” I said, thinking about all that outdoorsy exertion and the potential close proximity to snakes and spiders.
Damien shook his head. “No it’s pretty amazing, actually. It’s two days of music and partying, and you meet really cool people.”
Oh wait, something about this was starting to sound familiar. I remembered Stormy telling me about these parties. “Oh, like those Black Moon parties,” I offered.
Damien tsked. “Nothing like those Black Moon parties. Those are for drunk jocks and teenage girls. This is much, much better. They only invite a limited number of people and you have to qualify for an invitation.”
“Oooh,” I said in a mocking tone. “So exclusive and cool, no wonder you’re going.”
And then Damien jumped up excitedly. “Hey. Why don’t you come with me?”
“What?”
“Yes, come with me.” He held up my shopping bags. “You’re basically packed already.”
“Um…” I was thinking fast. There were about a million reasons why I shouldn’t go.
“Um…what about my hotel?”
“It’s not going anywhere. You’ll be back in a few days.”
“But I can’t just go with you!”
“Who says?”
“But I don’t have any sun cream.”
“I’ll buy you some.”
“I don’t have a toothbrush.”
“I’ll buy you one.”
I was running out of reasons. “I don’t know, Damien…I just don’t think I can.”
Damien deflated like a balloon. “It’s cool, Lilly. I understand. It’s a pity, though.”
Being the consummate gentleman, as always, he started putting my bags into the Tuk-Tuk, but the whole action had such an air of finality to it. This was it. He was going away for a few days and by the time he got back, I’d be on my way home to South Africa. I would never see him again.
“I sent you a friend request on Facebook, so message me sometime.” He looked at me and there was no hiding his disappointment.
Should I? Shouldn’t I? Should I? Shouldn’t I? Should I? Shouldn’t I?
“Okay fine! Fine!” I quickly pulled my bags out of the taxi in case I changed my mind.
Damien’s face lit up. “Seriously?”
“Why the hell not? Caution to the wind and all that stuff, right?”
“Right.”
And then a thought hit me. “If it’s by invitation only, how will I get in?”
“Don’t worry, I know the guy who runs it.”
Of course he did.
I watched as my lift drove down the street, around the corner and out of sight.
Damien turned to me. “You’re going to have the time of your life, Lilly. I promise.”
Mmm, that’s what I was afraid of.
Chapter Eleven
I’m the girl who is always on time.
I’m the girl who doesn’t go out on weeknights.
I’m the girl who files her books according to the Dewey decimal system.
I’m the girl who takes her rented movies back on time. Sometimes even early.
I’m the girl with a plan.
I’m the girl with a routine.
I’m the girl with the well-ordered, well-arranged, well-organized, well-placed, well-structured, well-controlled, well-everything’d life.
So what the hell was I doing on a boat with Damien, speeding across the waters to some island, somewhere, out there, on the way to some strange, wild, mysterious party where, for all I knew, the requirement would be total nudity, fire dancing, fire breathing, drinking alcohol filled with worms, belly dancing with snakes, orgies, swinging with your partner, swinging from the trees, drinking blood and human sacrifice—okay, so maybe that last part was extreme, but then again, I’ve seen stranger things on the reality channel.
I was hit in the face with a spray of water that jerked me back to reality. It really was beautiful here; the waters were a deep greenish-blue and dissolved into an incandescent light blue the closer they got to land. Small islands rose straight up out of the water; most of them simply looked like enormous rocks. Some were covered in tropical plants, while others had sheer white cliff faces that plummeted meters and meters down into the swirling waters below. Although spectacular, the islands looked completely uninhabitable; there was no way you would be able to access them with those high slopes and sheer cliffs.
The boat sped through the water, sending a soft, warm spray into my face. Two enormous pillar-like rocks came into view; they rose straight up into the air and were only a few meters apart, creating a thin passage between them. We entered the passageway, and it was long—so long, in fact, that at one point I wondered if it would ever end. It was also extremely narrow and if I stuck my hand outside the boat, I could touch the cliff face.
We finally popped out the other end and entered a huge crystal lake enclosed by a large island that wrapped around it completely. Long white beaches ran the entire length of the shoreline and, from them, imposing rocky faces rose vertically. The boat stopped at one of the beaches and Damien and I climbed out. The driver immediately turned around and disappeared back into the tunnel.
“Beautiful,” Damien said, looking around.
“Where’s the party?”
“Ahhh, patience, it’s only 12 p.m. It starts at 7 p.m., and I am sure it’s going to be quite an adventure getting there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, that’s part of the fun. They always choose a really remote location that’s hard to access—keeps the rabble away.”
I looked around nervously; the only way from here was up. And that didn’t thrill me at all.
“Do you think we’ll be going up…there?” I looked up and pointed nervously.
“Well, there’s nowhere else to go, is there?” He was so nonchalant about it, despite the fact that climbing one of those things would be madness and potentially detrimental to your health—as in, you might fall and die.
I think he could see the terror painted across my face.
“Why, does it worry you?”
“Um…I’m kind of scared of heights.”
“Don’t worry.” I suddenly felt an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll be there. It’ll be fine.”
And for some reason, I believed him, one-hundred percent. I had no reason not to. He’d proved to me more than once that he could, and more than that, that he wanted, to take care of me—like the night before. Although at the time I didn’t admit it, watching him stand up to that drunken pervert was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen, and it felt really good to have someone fight for me.
“But,” Damien said, putting his backpack down on the warm sand. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had a swim.” And with that, he started peeling off his clothes. First the shirt and then the pants. Although this was the second time in twenty-four hours that I’d seen him half naked, it still had the power to illicit the same silly, dizzy schoolgirl response from me. I tried not to stare, but there was no way one could ever become immune to the effects of a shirtless Damien, no way you could ever grow used to, or blasé about seeing Damien like this. Immediate blush.
He was wearing only his boxer shorts now and confidently strode into the water. I involuntarily bit my lip and was glad he hadn’t seen it. As soon as the water reached Damien’s thighs, he dove in. I watched him disappear and found myself waiting breathlessly for him to pop back out of the water. He finally emerged, his back was to me, and for the first time I noticed, well it was impossible not to notice, a huge tattoo on his back. It completely covered the top half of his back and both shoulder blades. It was so complex and intricate, containing lines that curved, intersected and wove their way around and through each other, coming together to form an abstract pattern. It’s hard to describe, but let’s put it this way, his naked back was now officially my favorite part of his body. He turned to me and I quickly wiped the stupid look off my face.
“Well…aren’t you coming in?”
“I’m not wearing a bathing suit.
“So change into one.”
I looked around; there were no obvious trees or rocks to change behind, only wide-open beach.
“There’s nowhere to change.” I shouted back at him.
“Change there. I won’t look.”
“No! Are you crazy? I’m not just going to change on the beach! What if someone sees me? What if another boat comes?”
“I’ll keep an eye out. Besides, we’ll hear the boat long before we see it.”
“I don’t know…”
“Lilly, you’re missing out big time, trust me. And we’ve probably got a long hot walk ahead of us, so…come on.” He paused for a moment and looked at me very seriously. “I’m not going to look…you have my word.”
I looked around once more, I couldn’t see anyone, and Damien had his back to me. But there was also another problem: I only had a bikini, and call me silly, but I didn’t want to be that exposed in front of him. So I decided to put a T-shirt over it, which turned out to be a very good idea, because the bikini I’d bought was tiny. Now that I thought about it, I remembered someone warning me about these sizing issues. Thai woman are so petite that medium to them is like extra-small to us (they really know how to make you feel like an ogre here), and my large boobs were not helping matters. I usually wore things that hid them, not draw attention to them, and this bikini top was doing the exact opposite. But he was right, the water was amazing. Once it had reached waist height, I told him to turn around.
“Interesting choice of swimwear. Why are you wearing a shirt?”
“Just…you know…”
“Scared that if I saw you in a bikini I wouldn’t be able to resist?” His tone was joking, but it sent these kind of electrical impulses rushing through me, especially in light of that kiss.
“Don’t look so worried, I’m not a Neanderthal who
is going to club you over the head and drag you into a cave and have my way with you.”
I wanted to scream “Stop talking like that!” because right now the thoughts that were running through my mind were bad…very bad. And being clubbed over the head was starting to feel like a very attractive option.
“I know how to behave around ladies. I’ve been told I’m quite a gentleman, actually.”
I smiled. “I know. You’re actually very well mannered, your mother must have raised you well.”
“Nah, the expensive boys boarding school did that!”
We smiled at each other for a moment. “You have to see the reef down here, the fish are amazing. Come.” Damien disappeared and I followed him. The water below was crystal clear. The sand was snow-white and powdery. One big rock poked out of the sand and was covered in multicolored coral and hundreds of beautifully patterned fish fed on it. I wanted to have a closer look and then…
I was blinded.
T-shirts should come with warnings that say, “If you swim underwater with this, it will billow and puff and cover your face.” I resurfaced to peel the wet, sticking fabric off my face with Damien close behind me. The T-shirt was clinging uncomfortably, and I was forced to tug and pull it back into position.
Damien looked at me curiously. “You know, you really can take it off. I’m not one of these guys who gawks and whistles.”
“It’s not that… it’s more…”
“Ahhh,” he said in a kind of teasing, knowing voice. “Girls, you’re all the same. No matter how beautiful you are, you always find some flaw.”
He smiled at me,. “Your choice, but if I was a girl and looked like you, I wouldn’t be worried about a thing.” He was silent for a moment and looked at me. “Seriously. Not a thing.”
My stomach moved up into my chest and my heart fell into my stomach. That didn’t sound like a very friendly thing to say, did it? Damien disappeared under the water again, and I continued to fiddle with the wet, uncomfortable shirt, which was really starting to piss me off.
Why the hell not, right? And so I whipped the thing off and followed him under.
And although Damien had claimed to be the kind of guy who didn’t gawk and stare, I swear, every now and then I caught him looking at me in a way that wasn’t very friendly. We swam and laughed and splashed each other like little kids, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun. It also dawned on me that I hadn’t thought about Michael the whole day. Not once, well, until right now.