Tempt (Take It Off)

by Hebert, Cambria

  Who was I kidding?

  It was distracting as hell.

  I guess my libido didn’t get damaged in the crash.

  After I applied the antiseptic and bandage, I pulled back. “I think you’ll live,” I declared.

  “That’s good. I’m not ready to die yet.”

  I swallowed. Was there a veiled meaning behind his words? I could have sworn desire laced his eyes. I told myself I was just seeing things because of my discomfort.

  A sound from outside caught my attention. I stood up abruptly. “Where are we?” I murmured, nervous about what lay beyond the wreckage.

  “Don’t know. Probably one of the many islands around here.”

  “We should find a hospital. Or the police.”

  He gave me a long glance out of the corner of his eye but didn’t say anything. Even still, that one glance made me uneasy.

  “Come on,” he said, packing up the first aid kit and tucking it beneath his arm with one of the water bottles. I grabbed up mine and he took my hand, leading us to the back of the plane.

  “Stay here,” he said and then hopped down over the jagged metal and loose wiring into the jungle-like environment. He glanced out into the foliage and then back at me.

  I could see his internal debate about whether or not to leave me or drag me along with him. Too bad it wasn’t his decision.

  “Stay together.” I reminded him of his earlier words.

  He nodded and palmed my waist, lifting me down as if I weighed nothing at all. When he sat me on my feet, he reached up and brushed away the hair that was sticking to my forehead in what I assumed was dried blood.

  It appeared the plane crashed onto the shore and skidded into a densely wooded area. I figured we couldn’t have hit the ocean because nothing inside the plane was wet, and surely some of the salty seawater would have made it inside with the busted windows and half the plane missing. What was left of the plane rested among palm trees and plants with leaves as big as my head. Behind it, the earth bore the skid marks of its hasty crash and it was those marks we followed, kind of like Hansel and Gretel followed the breadcrumbs.

  It didn’t take long to see where they led. It wasn’t to a cottage made of candy. It was to a pristine stretch of beach.

  The sand was white, the water a crystal-clear blue. In the distance, the sun was sinking low in the sky, painting the horizon shades of pink and orange, setting a blazing trail of crimson along the top of the water.

  It was absolutely stunning.

  Except for one thing.

  There wasn’t a single soul in sight. There were no boats. No people. No hotels, no streets, no noise. It was as if this place had been previously untouched by any kind of civilization.

  I glanced at Nash and the solemn set to his jaw. I finally understood the look he’d given me on the plane when I talked about a hospital and the police.

  There would be no hospital. Or police. There would be no help at all.

  It appeared that Nash and I had crashed on an uninhabited island.

  We were utterly alone.

  4

  We walked for a long time, thinking we would run into some kind of civilization, not yet willing to give up hope. But every step we took only got us closer to the realization that there was no one here but us.

  We were on an island. A tropical oasis of nothing but sand, water, and lush tropical growth. The sand was white and the water was crystal clear. The beach stretched on for as far as I could see and the sand gave way to a jungle of sorts. We didn’t really explore too deeply into the foliage. I was afraid of getting lost. And we were both exhausted.

  We might have been out for some time, but it hadn’t been a restful sleep. It had been our bodies’ way of healing, of keeping us both alive.

  When it became apparent that there was nothing out there and darkness threatened to consume all the light of day that remained, we turned back, heading for the plane. My stomach rumbled as we walked and I struggled to remember the last time I ate. I glanced at Nash, who had fallen quiet. His jeans were rolled up above his knees, one falling slightly lower than the other. He walked in the water as it rushed up over his feet and ankles. A breeze blew off the ocean, pulling at his T-shirt, plastering it against his torso, which was clearly well defined.

  He must’ve felt my stare because he looked up.

  “When we get back to the plane, I will try to radio for help. Maybe we’ll get lucky and have a signal.”

  I nodded. “Maybe we can find one of our phones.”

  “I think staying near the plane is our best bet right now. If someone comes looking, they might spot the wreckage.”

  “And the plane is good shelter,” I added. Even if the tail end was missing, it still provided a barrier from the elements and the sun. Not to mention we really had no idea what kind of predators lived on the island.

  “Do you think we’re close to Puerto Rico?” I asked him.

  “I couldn’t say. The plane was blown farther out into the sea… If I had to guess, I would say we’re closer to Bermuda.”

  “We crashed in the Bermuda Triangle?”

  He nodded, his expression grim.

  I wasn’t sure what this could mean. Sure, I’d heard all the tales and rumors about the triangle and how planes and boats often went missing. Were we just another victim of the esteemed black hole of the ocean? Were we going to fade into something of a mystery? Would we fall victim to a myth?

  I pushed those thoughts away, telling myself it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered right now was that we were alive.

  The plane came into view in the distance, an all too vivid reminder of what we just endured. Both of us trudged on, me wishing I had some kind of pain medicine to dull the throbbing in my head and Nash saying nothing at all.

  It was completely dark when we made our way inside the wreckage. I was exhausted and felt like crying. We both plopped down in two wayward chairs. Nash was nothing but a blur of color in the darkness.

  “Let’s just rest tonight. We’ll figure out what we’re going to do in the morning.”

  “Good idea.”

  He stood and pried open the overhead compartments above the row of seats. He pulled something down, shaking it out and then draping the blanket over me. Then he handed me a pillow.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll get one for me too.”

  I snuggled down into the seat with my blanket and pillow, telling myself things could be far, far worse. And then I closed my eyes. My thoughts drifted to Nash and the way I felt earlier when his lips were upon mine.

  * * *

  Sleep was rather easy to obtain… but it was hard to keep. I kept hearing the crunch of metal, the sound of the tail being ripped away. And then I would somehow break free of the pile of debris burying me and stand, wind whipping around me evilly, trying to pull me from the plane. And then I would see him. See Nash. He would reach for me and I would hold out my hand…

  And then the wind would claim him, would suck him right into the darkened sky outside.

  His scream rang through my head.

  I jerked awake.

  “Ava?” His voice reached me through the dark.

  “Nash.” Just the sound of his voice washed away the worst of the dream.

  I heard some movement and then he appeared above me. “Did you have a nightmare?”

  I nodded and realized that he likely couldn’t see the movement. “Yeah. I’m okay now.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “The plane was crashing all over again. But this time… you didn’t make it.” I couldn’t help the way my voice caught at the last part.

  He made a soft sound and reached for me, picking me up and sitting down with me in his lap. My skin felt cold against his and I sighed at his warmth enveloping me.

  “Where the hell is your blanket?” he asked, feeling around the ground around us. He found it and dragged it up, tucking it around us both.

  “I must have kicked it off wh
en I was sleeping.”

  He grunted. “Those shorts of yours aren’t going to keep you warm.”

  “What’s wrong with my shorts?”

  “Not a thing,” he said, his voice a little thicker than before. “They just don’t offer much warmth.”

  They were short. And I was cold.

  “Like your jeans are any warmer.” I snorted, reaching down and fingering one of the many holes. My fingertip slid in and brushed against the skin of his leg. Heat fizzled along my nerve endings, zapping up my fingers through my arm and toward my chest. I jerked back, a little frightened about the sudden surge of desire.

  He chuckled.

  I felt my muscles stiffen slightly, a little shocked at my response from an accidental touch.

  He seemed to sense the change that came over me, and his hand slid upward and rubbed slow circles over my back, coaxing my body into relaxing once more. It worked. My eyes closed and I submitted to the feel of his palm massaging me.

  I snuggled a little closer, not even realizing what I was doing until his arms tightened around me. I might have been embarrassed about my body’s automatic reaction to get closer if he hadn’t felt so damn good. I’d never been held like this before. Sure, I’d seen women and men on TV embracing and oh-so-close, but I didn’t really think it would feel this way. This secure.

  Maybe it was that sense of security that caused the one secret fear that had been gnawing at me since we crashed to pass through my lips.

  “Do you think anyone will come for us?” I whispered. The words were captured by the darkness around us, creeping in the empty space, almost taunting us.

  He was silent a moment and then he replied. “Yes. I really do. We’re going to be just fine.” His lips grazed the top of my forehead as he spoke. Hot chills raced over my skin.

  I desperately wanted to believe him. Still, there was a taunting voice inside me that whispered we would never get off this island.

  I spent the rest of the night in that place between sleep and consciousness. Usually that state annoyed me because it wasn’t actually restful, but this time I wasn’t annoyed. I was so comfortable it was like I didn’t quite want to surrender to sleep, because then I wouldn’t be aware of his breathing, of the steady rhythm of his heart. I wouldn’t feel the way his skin brushed against mine when he moved.

  The darkness started to lift, bringing out more shadows, and I became aware of needs that required the bathroom we didn’t have. I felt myself squirm in his lap, knowing I couldn’t hold it forever, but not wanting to use the jungle out there as a potty.

  He groaned a little, his hips bucking up, pressing a very solid length against my hip. I froze. Squirming around in a guy’s lap probably wasn’t the best idea. He moved again, the hard length of him nudging me.

  My mouth went dry.

  I wasn’t really sure how to react. Part of me wanted to leap off him. The other part of me was curious. My fingers itched to reach out and explore that part of him—the part of a man that was sort of a mystery to me.

  Before I could do anything, he opened his eyes and I felt his stare. A half smile played across his lips. “Good morning.”

  “Hi,” I said shyly.

  “It’s still really early.”

  “I have to pee,” I said, totally embarrassed I just announced that like a five-year-old, but clearly the feel of his… well, his you know, robbed my brain of the filter it obviously needed.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” He patted my back. “Come on, then, up.”

  I swung my legs off him, which pressed my bottom farther back in his lap. A groan ripped out of his throat as the ridge in his pants punched forward, right up against my backside.

  I froze, not really sure what to do. I hoped he didn’t think I did that on purpose.

  “He’s not going to get any smaller with you sitting in my lap like that,” he murmured.

  Embarrassment flooded my cheeks and I jolted off him, stumbling a little over the debris on the ground. Nash grabbed my arm to steady me but didn’t say anything else, thank God.

  We went outside and he pointed to the right. “Ladies that way.” Then he started off to the left.

  I wandered around a few minutes, squinting at every shape I saw, half expecting some kind of wild beast to attack me and make me breakfast. When nothing came after me, I found a spot and did my business, the whole time wrinkling my nose. I was so not a roughing it kind of girl.

  Nash was waiting beside the plane when I pushed my way back through the plants. His back was to me and he was staring out toward the beach. He didn’t turn, but he held out his hand to me. “Look,” he said, his voice hushed.

  I stepped forward, slipping my hand into his, and gasped.

  The sun was rising over the ocean. The sky was a vibrant hue of pink with the pale yellow of the sun in the center. The water sparkled like a chest full of gems and a light, cool breeze brushed over my skin and ruffled the large leaves around us.

  “I’ve never seen a sunrise so beautiful.”

  “It’s the ultimate love story,” he murmured.

  “What?” I glanced away from the view to his strong profile. I couldn’t help but study the planes and angles of his face and the slight stubble that covered the bottom portion of his jaw.

  “The story about how the moon loved the sun so deeply that it died every morning so she could breathe with the new day.”

  I glanced back at the climbing sun. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Two entities intertwined forever, destined to never share the sky at the same time, but never able to hate each other for it. Instead, they die for one other over and over again.”

  “That’s beautiful.” And it brought an entirely new significance to night and day.

  “Si,” he agreed.

  We stood there unmoving, staring out at the water until the sun had ascended above the verge and appeared to be sitting on top of the horizon like a giant boat ready to sail away.

  “Kiki would have loved to see this,” I said, thinking of my beloved grandmother. Then panic stole through me and I gasped. “Kiki!”

  Forgetting all about the beautiful sunrise, I raced back toward the plane—toward the last place I remembered seeing the suitcase with the urn inside.

  Before the crash.

  Before the tail of the plane was whipped away and Nash and I were knocked out cold.

  I couldn’t believe I had forgotten about her ashes until now. What if they were gone? What if they had been sucked out of the plane when the tail was torn away?

  It would be like losing her all over again.

  5

  I searched furiously through the wreckage, my heart pounding and tears swimming in my eyes. Surely she was still here. Surely life couldn’t be so cruel as to kill a woman twice.

  I felt the jab of something sharp in my hand and I yelped, yanking it back and seeing blood. I wiped in on my shirt and kept on rummaging.

  Nash searched alongside me, lifting up the heavier items that I didn’t have the muscle to move. Dread spread through my limbs the longer we looked and came up empty. I was about to completely lose it when Nash called out from behind. “Found it!”

  I made a sound of relief and rushed over as he pulled the black suitcase from underneath a pile of junk. It was scuffed up and the fabric was lightly shredded. He laid it down and I ripped at the zippers, my fingers just not being able to move fast enough. When I got it opened, I flung the lid back and stared down at the contents inside.

  The urn was still in once piece. It was completely unharmed.

  A single tear slid down my cheek as I lifted the container carefully, inspecting it and then hugging it close to my chest.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to Nash.

  He wrapped me and the urn in his arms and held me close while the strongest of my emotions rolled through me. I could bear to lose anything else to this crash except for this.

  He pulled back and wiped at the tear on my cheek. Then he looked at my h
and and frowned. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I’m okay.”

  He retrieved the first aid kit, and I scowled at him. “I’ve had enough stitches to last me a lifetime. If you plan on pulling anything out of that case other than a Band-Aid, I’m going to kick you.”

  “So violent,” he said, grinning.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “Will you consent to a little antibacterial cream as well?”

  “Fine,” I grumbled and flung out my hand.

  “I think we should clean this place up a bit or we’re going to keep hurting ourselves. Maybe we can find some soda or some food. And maybe we can find an extra blanket or two to hang up over the part that’s missing.” He motioned toward the gaping hole that used to be the tail.

  “I have some protein bars in my suitcase if we can find it.”

  He nodded. “I’ll try to radio for help.”

  As promised, he applied a Band-Aid and then put away the kit. We worked together, cleaning up the debris, lining up a few of the stray seats against the wall and blocking the broken windows with whatever we could find.

  My eyes strayed to the broken radio. Regret burned the back of my throat. How different things would’ve been if we could just call someone. But there would be no calling for help.

  But I did manage to find my suitcase, and I squealed with joy. I had a toothbrush, a comb, and even some tiny bottles of shampoo and soap! I’d never been so excited over shampoo.

  Nash managed to find three cans of soda, another water bottle, and a couple bags of peanuts and pretzels and piled them in an extra chair. I added the box of Luna bars to the stash and the pack of gum I found in my suitcase. It wasn’t much, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

  By the time we were done, I was sweaty, thirsty, and even dirtier.

  “I have some bad news,” Nash said, coming out of the cockpit and looking at me grimly.

  “What?” I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  He held up a cell phone. A very broken and cracked cell phone.