by Rachael Wade
“Just that...you know, maybe it would help give you some peace today, or some shit like that, I don’t know.”
A ruckus sounded from the end of the hall and he cleared his throat. Our friends emerged from their rooms, spotting and heading toward us.
“There you guys are,” Whitney said, her eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. Jackson ran his fingers through his hair and I stepped back to put a few more inches between us. “We’re headed to the pool, wanna come?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I said. “We’ll be right down.”
“Baby, come on,” Kayla purred, stepping in front of Jeff and Michelle to tug on Jackson’s hand. She was spilling out of her bright pink bikini top, a tiny wrap secured around her curvy waist. “I need you to help put my sunscreen on.”
Jeff snickered behind her. “Tough job, Jackson. Need a hand?”
“Hey, somebody’s gotta do it.” Jackson winked, draping his arm around Kayla’s shoulder to guide her toward their room. “I’ll take it from here. I have to change first. We’ll see you guys down there.”
“Lotion her up real good, Jack.” Jeff punched him in the shoulder before turning to follow the others down the hall.
Whitney smacked him upside the head as he passed by and she stayed behind with me, her expression concerned the moment she noticed my tears welling up. “What is it, Em? What did he do to you?”
I held the piece of paper out in front of me, staring down at it as if it would jump up and bite me. “He gave me Jen’s obituary.”
“He what?” Whitney’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared, and before I could say anything else, she snatched it from my hand and turned on her heel for Jackson and Kayla’s room.
I darted after her, wiping the tears away before they overtook me completely. “Whit, calm down.”
“I will not calm down.” She banged mercilessly on the door and cursed under her breath, reaching in her jean shorts pocket for the spare key. Sliding the card through the lock, she pushed the door open and I winced at the sight. Jackson and Kayla were half naked on the couch, Kayla shrieking and covering herself while Jackson fumed and yanked his zipper up, eyes flashing to mine.
“What the fuck, Whitney?”
“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand?” she snapped, holding the paper up.
“Whit.” I pulled the paper from her hand and tugged at her shoulder, averting my gaze from the scene on the couch. “Don’t, please. Let’s get out of here, come on.”
“No, Emma, I’m sorry. Somebody has got to tell him ‘no’ because he obviously doesn’t hear it enough.” She cocked her head to the side and shot an accusatory look at Kayla.
“Oh screw you, Whitney,” Kayla said. “You’re just pissed because you want Ruben but you think you’re too good for him. Get over yourself. At least I go after what I want.”
Whitney’s eyes narrowed. “Watch yourself.”
“Oh, for the love of God.” I charged toward the door. “Whit, just let it go.”
Jackson was in front of me in an instant, blocking the door. “Hold on a minute. First off, this is between me and Emma, Whitney. So butt the hell out. And Emma, I didn’t give it to you to upset you, I thought it would help.”
“Oh, please,” Whitney barked. “Don’t lecture me on privacy. You’ve heard why she doesn’t want to read it. You need to mind your own business and back off.”
Kayla wrapped her arms tighter around her bare breasts. “Jackson, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” we both answered.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
Jackson rubbed his eyes. “Kayla, can we do this later? I need a minute with Emma. Whitney, please get out.”
“Excuse me?” Kayla said, her head snapping to Jackson.
“You don’t have to talk to him about this, Em,” Whit said, turning to me.
I pressed my palm to my forehead and shut my eyes. “No, it’s fine. We’ll be quick.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I touched her elbow. “I’ll be right out.”
Kayla huffed and grabbed her flimsy bikini top, then stormed out the room, with Whitney stomping after her.
“I don’t know how you deal with that girl,” Jackson grumbled, pulling his shirt on and plopping back down on the couch.
“That girl is my best friend in the whole world and she’s just watching out for me.”
He leaned forward on the edge of the couch to rest his forearms on his knees. He wouldn’t look at me. “I’m sorry. I just...”
“I know,” I said, crossing my arms uncomfortably. “I get what you were trying to do. I’m just not ready, Jackson. And I’m extra touchy because of the date and—”
“You don’t have to explain. I get it. I shouldn’t have pushed it. You told me once before why you didn’t read it, and Whitney’s right...I should’ve left it alone.” He finally met my gaze, and the remorse in his eyes jarred me. Gone was his confidence, buried underneath some heavy mix of emotion that I couldn’t quite work out.
“Let’s just forget it. I’m going to head down to the pool. I’ll see you there.” I turned to leave, caught somewhere in between saying things I’d wanted to say to him for the past year and leaving the room’s silence untouched. I wondered if the words would ever make their way out, but I didn’t doubt that Jackson already knew they existed.
“Thank you,” he said, causing me to stall in my tracks at the door. “You forgive easily.”
An image of a broken windshield and scattered chunks of glass on black pavement surfaced, the ambulance lights illuminating the darkness in an eerie red glow. Jen there in the car, slumped against the steering wheel, her cheek twitching while she extended shaky fingers to me, waiting for me to say goodbye. I love you, Jen. You’re not alone. I’m right here.
A fabricated memory, all of it. Stored up in my mind like some bland, programmed afterthought for the sake of vague comfort. She’d been waiting for the goodbye, alright. But the goodbye never came.
“I wish I knew what that felt like,” I said.
Chapter 3
The party was in full swing by the time I changed and made it down to the pool area. Lucky for us, the pool was just as massive as the hotel itself, so our group had managed to take over half of one end without pissing off the other tourists. Still, Ruben and Jeff were drawing plenty of attention with their cannonball antics, and Jackson had his rock music turned up nice and loud while he and Enrique played water volleyball.
“So, did Ana bitchslap Elena yet?” Whitney asked from her pool chair, leaning over to sneak a peek at my Kindle. She was cozy with a Jennifer L. Armentrout paperback while she soaked up the sun. Kayla, Michelle, and their friend Kelly were passed out on the chairs next to her.
“Oh yeah, she’s already moved on to bigger and better things.” I winked and laughed with her, loving our Fifty Shades gush fests. We’d read the trilogy a few times already, but gossiping about it never grew old. It was the fangirl code for every book geek: read, chat, squeal. Re-read, chat, and squeal again, until it’s all over and the dreaded book funk sets in. Find the next best thing to fill the void, then repeat steps one through three as necessary.
“How are Katy and Daemon making out?” I tapped her copy of Obsidian. “Did they blow up the laptop yet?”
“Oh God, I wish.” She glanced out over the pool wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to blow up a laptop with that man.”
“Alien, Whit. He’s an alien. Get it right.”
“Who’s an alien?” Jackson asked from the edge of the pool. He was at our feet, staring up at us like a kid excluded from his favorite game at recess.
“You are, Jackson.” Whitney shooed him with her foot. “Now go back to whatever planet you came from and stay there.”
He pushed up on his arms and flung himself out of the pool, his hard muscles rippling with each movement. I swallowed and readjusted my sunglasses when he rose to full height in front of us. Bending over our legs, he shook
his hair out like a wet dog.
“Jackass!” Whitney screeched.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” He reached down to the pool’s edge and sent a small splash her way, grin widening when she set her book down to shoot up and splash him back.
I laughed and covered my Kindle under the towel to keep it from getting wet. “Don’t encourage him, Whit.”
“But he’s instigating!” She reached down to the surface to splash him again, but he sprang forward and lassoed her first, hauling her straight into the air and into the pool. She landed with a hard splash and my laughter grew louder, my hand snapping over my mouth. Her head emerged and jaw dropped, her shoulders tensed up around her ears as she pushed the hair from her eyes.
“You are going to pay for this, Jackson Taylor!” Before she could lunge forward and out of the pool, Ruben wrestled her from behind and dunked her head back under water. Enrique and Jeff started cracking up and swam over to join in on the fun.
Jackson sat down on the edge of my chair, grinning down at me. “Whatchya reading this time?” He pulled my Kindle from underneath the towel. “A Tale of Two Cities or some shit?”
“Jackson.” I reached to grab it from his hand, but he pulled back and jumped up on two feet, playing with the buttons. “Give it back, come on.”
The screen turned on and he started strolling with it, away from my chair. I strode after him, trying to peer over his shoulder and snatch it away. “He did what with her tampon?” His eyes flew wide, a smile twisting his lips in surprise. “Holy shit, Em. What are you reading?”
I reached for it again but he dodged my grab, picking up speed as he rounded the corner of the pool. “Jackson, I swear, if you don’t give it back to me—”
“His red room of what?” His brisk walk turned into a full-on run and I started to chase him, his laughter booming as he weaved in and around the lounge chairs. We’d completed our first circle around the pool when Kayla, Kelly, and Michelle sat up from their beauty sleep to lift their sunglasses and glare at us as we raced by for lap number two.
We zipped past the tiki bar and Jackson dashed through the gate and out into the surrounding garden, skidding to a stop when the scorching cement walkway burned his bare feet. “Damn!” He bounced on his feet and grabbed my arm, pulling me onto the grass and underneath the garden’s Greek column-style archway. A matching bench sat underneath, cascades of lush foliage overflowing from the top of the arch, providing a nice sliver of shade.
“Are you happy now?” I planted my hands on my hips and he sat down on the bench, tugging my hand to pull me down with him.
“I feel like I just won the lottery.”
“Congratulations. You discovered my secret.”
“You’re a romance junkie. And here I was thinking you were reading about the meaning of life.”
“Hey.” I grabbed my Kindle from his lap. “A lot of people give romance a bad rap, but there’s a lot to be learned from a good romance novel.”
“Oh?” He leaned back on the bench on the heels of his hands, eyes flickering over my scantily-clad body. I adjusted the triangles of my bikini top and shifted to cross my legs. “Like what? The ingredients for an amazing orgasm?”
I laughed and shifted again, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s such a stereotypical thing to say. Yeah, sex is a big part of romance. It’s the physical extension of a couple’s relationship. It shows how they feel about each other and how they interact with one another. Romance is an exploration of those elements, but it’s so much more than that.”
“Really? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that tampon scene was all about gettin’ it on.”
“Yeah, it was.” I laughed again at his boyish enthusiasm. “But I’ve never bought that whole romance-only-equals-smut equation. Sex tells a story; how the couple deals with it, and how they have it says a great deal about what kind of people they are. It’s just as legit of a storytelling device as fantasy or science fiction. And the scene you’re making fun of is just one of many in that series that shows how the characters grow to trust and compromise with one another. They have to figure out boundaries, decide how far they’re willing to go for one another...their sex life draws great parallels with the other challenges in their relationship. It’s what makes their love so powerful in the end.”
“Leave it to you to make it sound like something life changing.”
“Love stories are life changing.”
He studied my face for a moment, then stretched and stood to his feet, offering me his hand. I accepted and stood to meet him, our fingers still linked. “Did you love that Chris guy?”
“Love is like art.” I shrugged. “It’s relative.”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s absolute. You know when you love someone.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s only absolute when you both see love in the same light. You have to share a mutual definition of what love is to be in love. Clearly, Chris and I didn’t.”
“Chris is an idiot.”
“True.”
“But I call bullshit on that.” He pulled on a piece of the hibiscus around us, tugging on the leaves. “That’s just a case of unrequited love. It doesn’t make your feelings for him any less real.”
“I guess you’re right. But if I had to answer in black and white...I didn’t love him.”
“How do you know?”
I blinked and took a deep breath, the ache from the betrayal still tender, even after all this time. “Because when he dumped me, I was more upset over the loss of my future with him than I was over the loss of our relationship. I think I wanted it more than I wanted him.”
“That still sounds like love to me.”
“It was, I guess. A different kind.”
“You can love the idea of loving someone. It sounds like you lost a dream, not love.”
“Yeah,” I glanced down with a wry smile, “I guess I should look at it that way from now on. It might help me let my stupid grudge go.”
My lashes fluttered when his fingers found my chin. He tipped it up to bring my gaze back to his. “You have a right to be angry for what he did to you. Don’t downplay that.”
Our fingers locked tighter and my breath caught at the intensity that rained down from his stare. I stepped back. “We should get back.”
“Yeah, God only knows where Whitney buried Ruben’s body by now.”
“She’ll be after you next.”
My fingers left his, and as I turned away to walk back to the pool, I could feel his stare burning holes into my back.
***
My ears pounded as the music shook the hotel room walls. Who knew how long it’d be before someone reported the party. I weaved around random people and smiled.
I could care less.
This was exactly what I needed tonight. Loud music, laughter, and life. I took a sip of my water and scanned the suite’s crowd for Whitney. She’d promised me she’d be back after a quick dance with Enrique, but was nowhere in sight after witnessing Ruben and Kelly’s shameless grind session. Poor girl. Ruben really was an asshat.
“Can I offer you something stronger?” A tall, blond surfer type approached me when I reached the end of the hallway.
I looked down at my water bottle, then smiled up at him. “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
He bent down to bring his mouth closer to my ear. “You’re not dancing.”
“You’re not either.”
“You want to remedy that situation?”
I scanned the room once more. Still no sight of Whitney. “Sure. Sounds good.”
Extending his hand, he leaned in even further. “Brian. Nice to meet you. And you are?”
“Emma,” I said, taking his hand. His grip was solid, firm.
“After you.” He touched the small of my back and nudged me forward, and I took his hand to lead him into the crowd. We instantly fell in step with the music’s rhythm, Brian’s arms encasing my waist as I swung my hips from left to right. People pressed
into us from every angle. A trickle of sweat rolled down my neck and back as we picked up the pace. Brian’s eyes roamed my body, taking in my halter’s plunging neckline, then settled over my shoulder, where I felt another warm body press against me from behind. He smiled and nodded, and I followed his gaze behind me to find another tall, athletic blond.
“Emma, this is Jace,” he shouted.
I drank Jace in over my shoulder, greeting him with a playful smile. Hell, he was sexy.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his hand already on my hip. I gave him permission and shut my eyes, surrendering to the music, swaying with them both until all I could feel was the vibration of the blaring tunes reverberating in the souls of my feet. I brought my left arm up and over my shoulder, loosely wrapping it around Jace’s neck to pull him closer, and let Brian lean into me from the front, sandwiching myself between them.
“This dress is sexy on you,” Jace said, mouth to my ear. “Shows off your neck. I like it.” His fingers found the base of my neck and I rolled my head to the side, onto his chest, as we continued to move.
“Yeah?” I pressed into him and slipped my fingers up into his hair.
“Oh, yeah.”
I could get used to this. Flirting with these guys was easy. Fun. Something I didn’t make much time for back home, with the one exception of my nights at Pete’s Tavern with Whitney. But time for guys? Whitney was right. I barely bothered dating. This was just dancing. No pressure. Perfect. The best part was I’d never have to see them again after this weekend if I didn’t want to.
Brian broke away from us to grab another drink, returning with two cups and another water in hand.
“A friend of mine and some idiot are fighting over there,” he said. “Hey Jace, I think we should go try to break it up. It’s getting ugly, man.”
I gratefully reached out for the water, standing on my tip-toes to peer over his shoulder and find the source of the commotion he was talking about. Brian’s body suddenly flew toward me, the drinks in his hands splattering over my dress, and I stumbled back and slammed into Jace’s chest, the impact knocking the wind out of me.