by A. E. Neal
"I'm not sure what I am anymore. I thought I was happy, but you're right, if I was truly happy, I wouldn't have packed my bags and flown to Mexico." My gaze fell to the flickering candle and he squeezed my hand, gently.
"Do you love him?" he asked.
The answer was no. I hadn't known Deacon for that long and there was no way I could be in love with him. I'd never known what love felt like, so the question was as foreign to me as the word itself.
"No. I don't," I said and a smile crept across his face.
"Good."
Our dinner arrived, and for the first time since I'd met him, we didn't have anything to say to each other. We sat silently together, watching the tide come in, covering the footsteps in the sand along the beach as each wave wiped them clean, giving it a fresh new start.
The food was delicious, but the company was even better. It reminded me of the nights I'd spent with him when we were teenagers. Words didn't need to be said, his eyes alone would tell a story.
Once we finished our dinner, he ordered us some chocolate mousse to share and requested a bottle of dessert wine.
"This is really good," I said with a mouthful of creamy chocolate.
"Try it with the wine," he offered.
I took a sip of wine, a bite of mousse and that was it, I was in heaven. I was sure if it had tasted any better I would've done a reenactment of the famous diner scene from When Harry Met Sally.
"Can I ask you something?"
I swallowed and nodded lightly. "Anything."
"If we hadn't started what we did between us, do you think you could ever see yourself with me?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"If we hadn't ruined our friendship with sex, do you think you would've ever just gone out with me?"
"We didn't ruin our friendship, Zac. What do you think we're doing, now? We're just two friends, enjoying dinner together. Nothing else. No expectations, right?"
He rested his forehead in his palm and scratched the top of his head in frustration.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing. I should probably go check on Kirsten. You know, make sure she's still breathing and stuff," he said, but the frown on his face told me, otherwise. "Thank you for having dinner with me, Kennedy." He slid his chair out and stood to leave. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation," he added as I watched him disappear into the dimly lit restaurant.
What the hell was that all about? I rummaged through my clutch and tossed some cash on the table, got up and ran after him.
"Zac! Zac, wait!" I called, but he'd already made his way to the elevator. "Zac! Please! Talk to me!" I shouted as the elevator doors closed with him inside. "Goddamn it!" I cursed under my breath as I punched the call button on the elevator, a little harder than necessary. "Hurry up."
Zac
I heard her call my name, but I couldn't face her again. Not tonight. I thought I felt something spark between us again over dinner, but I was quickly put in my place when she made it clear that we were just friends.
"Fuck," I said and my fist connected with the metal elevator door.
I should've kept my mouth shut. It was a miracle that she had even talked to me, let alone had dinner with me. I was a class-five dumbass.
I rushed to the suite, shoved the key in the door and swung it open. The place was a disaster. There were beer cans, empty drink glasses, bikini tops, beads, fruit and beach towels everywhere. Music blared from the bedroom, the door was shut, but I could hear the moaning even over the music.
I flung the bedroom door open to find all four girls buck naked. Two of them were jumping wildly, belting out the lyrics to some Katy Perry song and in the middle of the lush king-sized bed was Zoe, Kirsten and Alex, all buck naked. Zoe straddled and rode him as Kirsten was on all fours. Alex gripped her hips as she positioned herself over his face with her head back, moaning.
"Zac!" Katelyn shouted and pulled me into her. "Where've you been? You missed all the fun!" She lay her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist. "Dance with me," she begged, looking up at me with her big, brown, doe eyes.
"Get off him," Kirsten shouted and lunged for Katelyn.
As much as I wanted to see the two girls fight, I grabbed Kirsten by the arm and dragged her into the living room. "You asshole! Let me go!" she shouted, but I didn't dare release my grip for fear she would lunge at me too.
"We were just dancing, you crazy bitch," Katelyn yelled from the other room.
"What're you doing?" I asked as her naked body swayed back and forth.
"What?" She looked dazed, drunk and confused.
"Open your eyes and look at me, Kirsten."
She opened them briefly and smiled. "Oh, Zac. I missed you, baby. Where'd you go? I woke up and you were gone."
"Jesus Christ, are you high?" Her eyes were glossy and bloodshot.
"They met a guy at the pool who hooked us up. Ask Alex," she slurred and pointed toward the bedroom. "Oh shit. Alex...oh my God."
I released her arm and she crumpled to the floor. She buried her head in her palms and started crying. "I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what's wrong with me. I thought...I thought...he was you."
The drugs explained the orgy going on in the bedroom and the reason Kirsten really had no clue where she was. Part of me was thankful I found her with my friend. I had no idea if she'd actually had sex with him or not, but somehow, it didn't even matter, anymore.
"I love you sooooo much, I would never cheat on you," she cried.
I laughed. It really was funny and to be honest, it was almost ironic.
"Stop crying, Kirsten. It's okay. I'm not mad."
She looked up at me with mascara stained cheeks and smiled. "Really? But...I..."
"I'm not mad," I repeated.
She pulled herself to the edge of the sofa and collapsed against the pillows. Her eyes fluttered closed and I covered her naked body with a stray towel.
I grabbed a bottle of tequila from the kitchenette and a couple of beers from the fridge. I didn't know where I'd go, I just knew I needed time alone and away from the porno that was taking place on my bed.
Kennedy
I changed into a pair of cotton shorts and pulled a tank top over my head. There was no doubt in my mind that I was exhausted. I slid between the cool sheets of my bed and unplugged my phone from its charger. The screen lit up, twenty-seven missed calls, five voicemails and a number of texts.
"Jesus, what the hell?" I whispered to myself as I listened to the first voicemail from Ally.
"Ken, where are you? Deacon's freaking out, please call me back."
I skipped to the next one, it was from Deacon.
"Kennedy, I've been trying to call you all day. Why won't you pick up? Please call me back."
I knew the next two were from Ally and I deleted them. The texts were all the same, too.
Ally: Where are you? Call me, I'm worried!
I wasn't sure what time it was in Phoenix, but I dialed Deacon's number, anyway.
"Hello?" he answered groggily.
"Hey," I said. "Sorry if I woke you."
"Kennedy?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"Where are you? I've been trying to call all day, but I got sent straight to voicemail."
"Sorry, my phone died. I'm okay. I'm in Cancun."
"What? Cancun? Why?"
"I needed some time to clear my head. I texted you when my plane landed, but I'm guessing you didn't get it."
"No."
"Look, Deacon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine, really."
"You don't sound fine," he said sleepily.
"I am. I promise. It's just been a long day. I'm exhausted. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay...but hey, Ken, are we good?"
"Yeah, we're good. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Sweet dreams."
"You, too. G'night," I said and ended the call.
I sent Ally a text too, letting her know I was safe and I'd talked to Deacon. I assum
ed she was already asleep, since she hadn't responded right away.
I felt guilt wash over me, since I didn't bother to explain to Deacon why I'd come to Cancun in the first place. I knew if he found out Zac was here, he would hop on the next flight out. I glanced at the clock, it was a little after midnight— Mexico time— and as tired as I was, I was restless.
I got out of bed, padded into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. My cheeks were flushed and I figured it was a residual effect from the wine I'd drank. I knew better than to drink the tap water, so I grabbed a bottle from the mini fridge and took a few gulps.
I was stir-crazy, pacing the room like a hungry lion. I needed fresh air, so I grabbed a pair of flip-flops, my room key and headed downstairs.
The music from the pool bar was still playing and the cool sea breeze blew softly through the lobby. I heard the faint sound of a guitar playing and followed it until I reached the outside of a dimly lit cantina. The chairs had been stacked on the tables as the cleaning crew mopped and swept away the day's mess.
A tall, indistinguishable figure was sitting on a stool near the back of the cantina. I slowly crept along the outer wall of the open air dining room until I had a clear view of the guitar-playing stranger.
The song was mesmerizing, not one I'd ever heard before. His deep, melodic voice sang the lyrics with such passion and poise, it was hard to tear my gaze away. My heart broke for the man singing and I placed my hand over my chest.
Your face is trapped in my heart
Your love has capture my soul
Your touch has enchanted my life
And you take it all with you
Without taking my eyes off of him, I found a table in a dark corner with a chair that hadn't been put up for the night. I sat quietly, resting my chin in my palm as I listened and watched him strum the strings on the guitar in perfect harmony.
Because I don’t get to keep you
I did nothing wrong
Wandering away
After I gave you all
After all the memories have stayed
I don’t get to get keep you
I walk alone
I closed my eyes and found myself swaying to the music. Suddenly, I was startled by a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and one of the women who'd been cleaning said in a thick accent, "Canta como un ángel, ¿no?"
I shook my head, because I didn't understand her.
"Angel," she said clearly.
"He really is, isn't he?" I asked, but she'd already gone back to cleaning the floor.
Alone, without you there
Alone, without you there
Alone with you
The mysterious man in the cantina had my heart in the palm of his hand and I didn't even know him. I sighed loudly, realizing the song had ended and now he was walking toward me.
Crap! I panicked. What kind of crazy girl sits in the shadows of a dark restaurant, watching a man she didn't even know?
He set the guitar down and walked toward me. Double crap! It was too late to run or even try to hide, so I stood up slowly and backed into the wall, hoping he didn't see me and would just walk past.
But, I wasn't that lucky. Before I knew what was happening, he wrapped his hands around my waist, pulled me into his chest and pressed his lips to mine.
"Zac?" I breathed. He kissed me deeper, and more feverishly than ever. Like he was hungry and I was the only one who could curb his insatiable appetite.
Our tongues swirled and massaged against one another. By the time he let me go, I was panting. I wanted more, much more.
"How long have you been watching me?" he asked softly and I let a breathy moan escape from my throat. Then he put either hand against the wall, blocking me from leaving and breathed into my neck, "How long?"
"I heard the whole song. And...Zac, it was beautiful...but so sad," I said breathlessly.
"That's what you've done to me, Kennedy. I can't sleep without dreaming about you. I can't look at her without seeing your face. I can't stop thinking about you and where we went wrong. You've broken my heart, Skittles, and yet, here I am. I don't want to let you go this time. I don't think I have it in me to just watch you walk away from me, knowing you'll never come back. It would kill me."
"Zac, I can't..." I began, but as I looked him in the eyes, a tear formed in the corner and rolled down his cheek. I wiped it away with the pad of my thumb. The song he had just sung was about me. I was the one who broke his heart, I was the one he couldn't let go. Me.
"Please, Kennedy. Don't walk away this time...I'm in love with you."
My heart pounded in my chest, echoing in my eardrums and I knew I heard him loud and clear, but I didn't want to believe it.
"No, Zac, you don't know what you want. You don't love me. I'm a fucking mess, remember?" I said and I, too, had begun to cry.
He put a finger to my lips to keep me from saying another word. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he said softly and I buried my face in his chest.
He drew small circles along my lower back, and I cried.
Why, now? Why after all this time hadn't he told me? If the feeling in my chest was any indication of what love was meant to feel like, I didn't like it. It hurt. It felt as if someone was squeezing the air out of my lungs. Nausea washed over me and I felt dizzy.
"I need to sit down," I said and he helped me to a chair.
He placed both palms on either side of my face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs, all while I kept my gaze focused on a crack in the table top. I couldn't look at him.
"Please look at me," he pleaded.
I was queasy again, heat rushed up my chest and into my face. I was going to be sick. I shoved him out of the way, just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into a planter beside the restaurant. He hadn't left my side, stroking my back and pulling the longer strands of hair away from my face, until I had nothing left to expel.
"Shit, Ken, you're burning up. You're pale as shit, too. We need to get you upstairs and in bed," he said and I heard panic in his voice. I must have looked as bad as I felt. "What's your room number?"
"Forty-two eighteen," I said, just before everything went dark.
Chapter 22
Zac
Kennedy had been asleep for almost sixteen hours. I was worried about her, the color hadn't returned to her cheeks and she look weak, frail and sick. I dialed the number to the front desk.
"Hello, may I help you?" the woman asked.
"Yes. Is there a doctor in the hotel?"
"Si. Yes, of course, sir. I'll contact someone and send them to your room."
"Oh God, thank you. My friend, she's sick and I don't know what's wrong. Please tell him to hurry."
"Yes, sir. I will," she said and I hung up the phone.
I paced the small room back and forth for what seemed like hours before there was a light knock at the door. "Thank goodness," I said as I swung open the door.
To my surprise, a woman, possibly not much older than I, stood in the doorway. "I'm Doctor Rios," she said in perfect English as she held her hand out to me.
"Zac," I said and shook it lightly. "Thank you so much for coming. She's been out cold for about sixteen hours, she hasn't eaten or drank anything since dinner last night. She got sick and fainted, so I brought her up here. I've been keeping a cool damp towel on her forehead, 'cause I think she has a fever."
The doctor nodded and set her bag beside the table. She pulled out a stethoscope and a blood pressure monitor.
I sat nervously on the edge of a chair at the end of her bed and buried my face in my hands. I didn't know what I'd do if I lost her. No, I couldn't think that way. She probably just had food poisoning or something. It happened all the time in Mexico, right?
I stood up and paced the room while Doctor Rios checked Kennedy's vitals. I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and downed half of it before falling back into the plush chair.
The doctor pulled her stethoscope out of her ears, tucked it
neatly back into her bag and turned to face me.
"She's very dehydrated, her heartbeat is normal and her blood pressure is okay. Are you her boyfriend?"
"Uh..." I began, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah."
"Is it possible she could be pregnant?"
"Pregnant? No...Uh...I don't know...maybe." My heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach.
"I don't want to give her any medication just in case. You need to get her to a hospital soon."
"Yes, of course. I'll get her there, right away. Thank you, doctor."
She lifted her bag and headed for the door. "Take good care of her," she said as she closed the door behind her.
"Fuck!" I shouted and my fist met the edge of the door jam. I called down to the front desk again and requested transportation to the nearest hospital. She assured me a van would be waiting downstairs in ten minutes.
I pulled Kennedy's limp body into my arms. She was damp with sweat and the heat from her body was almost too much to bare, but I knew I needed to get her help and I knew it had to be fast.
Her head lolled against my chest as I carried her through the lobby and outside under the awning. A van pulled through and stopped at the curb in front of us. The driver opened the side door and I laid her across the seat, tucking her legs against me as I fastened her seat beat to hold her in place.
"Hospital, por favor," I said to the driver and he nodded. "Please hurry," I added.
Luckily, the nearest hospital was only about a half hour away and our driver had been kind enough to call ahead to let them know we were on our way.
I carried Kennedy through the front doors of the small building that looked more like a doctor's office than a hospital. A young nurse met us with a gurney as we approached and I lowered her carefully onto it. The nurse signaled for me to follow her and it was the one time in my life, I wished I actually remembered the Spanish I'd learned in high school. One nurse was shouting at another as we wheeled her down the long narrow hallway, which sent me into a panic. Whatever they were saying, couldn't be good by the tone of their voices.
The nurse held her hand up to me and pointed to a row of metal chairs outside the swinging door.
"No," I said. "I'm not leaving her side, please."