by Stella James
It’s nearly dinner time now, which means it’s after ten Chicago time. I should really get to bed but my mind is wide awake. I made up a plate of fresh fruit in the room and picked at it while I got ready. After a glass of pinot, I’ll be ready to fall into that cloud of a bed and hopefully get some sleep.
I exit the elevator and cross the lobby to where a frosted glass door marked Paradise Lounge sits snugly beside the large family restaurant, which I can tell from the noise and the amount of people coming and going, must be chaotic right now. When I open the door to the lounge and step into the dimly lit room, I see that most of the tables are full but it’s not nearly as loud as it is next door. I take a seat at the bar near a man in a slightly rumpled suit. A heavyset woman behind the bar in a boldly printed Hawaiian shirt turns as I sit down on one of the wooden stools.
“Aloha. What can I get for you tonight?” She smiles politely.
“I’ll have a glass of Pinot Grigio, please,” I reply.
She nods and reaches for a glass, presenting the wine bottle to me for approval before she begins to pour. She places the glass on top of the pineapple shaped coaster that sits in front of me.
“Thanks,” I say, raising my glass and taking a generous sip. “Christ, that’s good,” I mutter.
The man sitting two seats over from me turns slightly, as though he thinks I’m speaking to him. I’m about to assure him that I wasn’t, but my response gets lodged in my throat the minute he turns fully.
“Sorry, what was that?” he asks.
Like a proverbial Bambi, I stare wide-eyed at this stranger’s handsome face. His clean-shaven jaw is sharp and masculine. But not too masculine. His thick, reddish brown hair is cut short but slightly dishevelled, and surrounding his blue eyes are small, distinct lines. Which I am certain on any other man would look tired but on this particular man, they simply make him look distinguished.
“Were you talking to me?” he asks, a slight flicker of amusement in his eyes. Good lord, do I detect a southern drawl? Universe, I don’t know what you’re trying to do to me, but I accept.
“Oh. Right. No, actually, I was talking to myself,” I say. “I do that from time to time. Makes me feel less lonely,” I laugh. I laugh way too hard. Dammit.
I look down at my wine glass and expect him to immediately turn his attention elsewhere when instead he slides onto the stool beside me.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he says quietly as he leans his head towards mine.
Dear God, please don’t let this guy turn out to be a serial killer, rapist or general fucking asshole. Not that it matters, you’re here with your pretend boyfriend, Poppy, remember? Keep your bald eagle in her damn cage, you horned up old maid.
“So, what brings you to Hawaii?” I ask casually.
He hesitates and takes a thoughtful sip of the amber liquid sitting in front of him before he clears his throat and responds. “Business,” he says. “And you?”
“Here with friends,” I say diplomatically.
He raises his glass to mine and as we clink them together, our eyes meet and hold as we pull our glasses apart and drink.
Flirt, Poppy. Flirt like you’ve never flirted before. Orgasms Poppy. This man could potentially give you orgasms. Wait, am I thinking about orgasms with a guy I literally just met? Is this how people do one night stands? What’s happening?!
“I’m Will, by the way,” he says.
“Poppy,” I say slipping my palm into his.
“That’s an interesting name.”
“My mom has a thing for gardening so she named my sisters and I after flowers,” I explain. “My dad agreed as long as he got to choose our middle names.”
“Oh?” He grins. “And dare I ask what your middle name is?”
“It’s Thursday,” I say.
“No, today’s Monday,” he offers.
“I know. My middle name is Thursday,” I say smiling.
His grin turns into a full-fledged smile and — be still my horny little heart — it is magnificent.
“Your sisters?”
I take another sip of wine. “Tulip Wednesday is the oldest and Bluebell Monday is the youngest. I’m in the middle,” I say.
“And are these favourite days of the week for your dad, or do they represent specific historical events?”
“They’re the days we were each born on,” I wink.
“I’m kind of scared to ask what your parents’ names are,” he says.
“Jeff and Susan.”
I’m startled by the deep bellow of sexy laughter as it rumbles up from his chest and escapes his perfectly full, but not too full, lips. If I were an army commander, now would be the time I’d say something like the eagle is ready to land or in my case, the eagle is ready to open its neglected jaws and likely bite off this poor guy’s penis.
He waves the bartender over and orders us each another drink.
“So, what kind of business brings a person all the way to Maui?” I ask.
He smirks and takes a long sip, emptying his glass. “To be honest, that’s the last thing I want to talk about,” he says quietly.
“I can respect that,” I say. “I’ve recently found myself in a major life rut. I’m hoping this trip is my first step in the right fucking direction.” I cringe as I take a sip of my wine, Todd the fucker’s voice like a megaphone in my head. You curse too much Poppy. Todd hated it when I used the word fuck. I glance at Will from the corner of my eye and find him grinning. Not backing away with repulsion. Suck it, Todd.
“Well I hope you get to enjoy the sights while you’re here,” I say. “It would be a shame to miss out.”
“Cheers to new beginnings, Poppy Thursday,” he says, raising his glass to mine once more. “And to seeing the sights.”
“Cheers.”
Say something cool. Be cool. Do not ruin this, Poppy.
I take a large sip and decide to throw my tits to the wind. Be positive, Poppy. Say yes to life. I am going to seduce this man and have wild, uninhibited sex with him. In thirty-one years I have not once had a one night stand. I’m thinking of the most eloquent way possible to ask this man to fuck me when he leans his head close to mine just as he did earlier.
“Thursday happens to be my favourite day of the week,” he says.
“We should sleep together,” I blurt out. “I mean, I didn’t mean that. I think I’m tired. I’m really tired, I should go to bed.”
What am I doing? I can’t do this. Obviously. I take a final sip from my wine glass and place it back down on the bar, grabbing my purse and moving to stand. I’m surprised when he stands as well. Of course he’s tall. His clearly expensive suit fits his broad chest quite well. His tie is loose and crooked, which I am finding very charming at the moment. I tilt my head back and look him in the eye, trying my best to not look like a desperate sex leprechaun about to dive ass first into a pot of gold.
“Do you want to come back to my room with me, Poppy?”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” I answer a little too quickly but with measured certainty.
He places some cash on the bar and we make our way to the door, his hand planted firmly on my lower back the entire time. We walk casually through the lobby and the minute the elevator door closes, my mouth is on his. I’m kissing a man I only just met less than an hour ago as if he’s the love of my life. If he’s surprised by my boldness, he hides it well by kissing me back with just as much urgency. His thick arms wrap possessively around my waist and when he backs me up into the mirrored wall behind me, I fight the sudden urge to rip my dress off and have sex with him right here on the floor. I spear my fingers into this thick hair and pull slightly, eliciting a deep moan as he rips his mouth from mine. He nips and sucks the side of my neck, the sound of my whimpering pleas for more echo in the small space.
Everything about this feels perfect. Everything about this feels right. He loosens his hold on me and pulls away just as the elevator chimes and the doors open. He takes my hand in his and leads me down the hal
lway. I’m stumbling through a pre-sex fog as he pulls a key card from his pocket and lets us into a suite similar to mine. He pulls me through the door and kicks it shut behind me, spinning me and backing me up against it.
“This is a one night stand, right?” I breathe out heavily. “That’s what we’re doing, right?”
“Yes, Poppy. I only have one night, unfortunately,” he says before sealing his lips to mine.
We pick up right where we left off, his mouth on my neck, my hands in his hair and as his lips move strategically lower he mumbles against my skin.
“What?” I pant.
“You’re really hot,” he says.
“Thanks, you too- “
“No, Poppy, you’re hot,” he says again, reaching across my heaving chest and flipping on the light switch.
What the hell?
He pulls the lei I’m still wearing up and over my head and brings me closer to the light. I glance down and gasp in horror.
“What the hell is that?!”
My entire chest is covered in swollen red patches. Very unattractive, swollen red patches. And they’re beginning to itch.
“I think you’re having an allergic reaction to the flowers,” he says, examining my chest.
“It’s fine,” I lie, as my skin begins to tingle, begging for me to scratch it.
I pull his mouth to mine and with the desperation of a woman who has not had an orgasm from the touch of a man in over a year. I try to reclaim a moment that is so far past its expiration date, it belongs in the reject bin in the shady corner of the grocery store. Mother fucker.
“Gaaaaaaahhhh, I can’t. It’s so itchy,” I whine, rubbing my palms over my chest. “Fuck.”
“I’m going to phone down to the front desk and see if they have some Benadryl,” he chuckles. “Make yourself at home.”
I curse the existence of every single flower native to the state of Hawaii and trudge with defeat into the living room, flopping down onto the couch with a significant hmph. I continue to rub my palms over my chest, trying not to scratch as my eyes wander around the room. It’s pretty much exactly the same as my suite except for the colour scheme. The walls are a soft beige and the furniture is patterned, with similar artwork hanging on the walls. The small kitchenette is identical.
Will hangs up the phone and gets two bottles of water from the fridge before sitting down beside me. I accept his offer and twist off the cap, taking a long drink.
“The concierge is coming up with some allergy medicine and some cream,” he says. “Apparently you’re not the first tourist to have this problem.”
“Super,” I say. “Not quite the way you imagined this night going, huh?”
“No,” he grins. “Not exactly. But I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been interesting.”
“I guess I can live with that,” I shrug. “I was hoping to get some major orgasms from you, Will, but I just don’t think it’s in the cards.”
He looks at me thoughtfully before opening his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by an efficient knock at the door. As he goes to answer it, I stand and make my way into the kitchen. He thanks the concierge and sets the small white bag on the countertop while I mentally admit my defeat. A brief awkward silence settles between us before I break it.
“Well, I should get going. I should probably take some of that medicine and slather some cream on this rash before it spreads. Wow, I so did not think those words would ever come out of my mouth,” I say.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.
“Oh, I suspect you’ll pine for me for at least twenty-four hours,” I say casually, picking up the small bag and heading toward the door. “Not to worry, though. You’ll survive.”
I open the door and turn to face him, doing my best to put on a mature and happy face while also trying to find the humour in this seriously fucked up situation. “It was nice to meet you, Will. I hope that whatever business brought you to Maui goes well.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Poppy,” he says.
The door clicks shut behind me.
Mother fucking stupid fresh fucking Hawaiian flowers.
Chapter Seven
The Lie
Once I realize what floor I’m on, I forego the elevator and take the single flight of stairs up to the suite I’m sharing with Kyle. God, what the hell was I thinking tonight? Well, I suppose for the sake of accuracy, I wasn’t thinking. Not with my brain anyway. For the second time over the course of three days, I’ve managed to piss off my lady parts. This is what I get for attempting to have meaningless sex with a complete stranger. Well played, universe, well played.
I swipe my key card and push open the door. Kyle is sitting on one of the plush sofas, leaning back into the cushions with his eyes closed. Two empty beer bottles sit on the table where his feet are resting. I kick off my sandals and slump down beside him.
“Where were you?” he asks.
“Trying to have sex with a stranger,” I sigh. “But I got this gross rash from the stupid lei from the airport and ruined it.”
“Only you, Poppy, only you,” he says, passing me the bottle in his hand.
I take a long drink and pass it back.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.
“Me too.”
I lean into him as he wraps his arm around me.
“Was he hot?”
“So hot,” I groan. “Chris Pratt in a semi-serious role, wearing a nice suit kind of hot. And he was rumpled.”
“Damn, girl.”
“Yup. How was your day with your family?”
“Ugh.”
I lean up and kiss Kyle’s cheek, patting his leg before I stand.
“I’m going to bed,” I say. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Mmmhm,” he mumbles, already half asleep.
Once I’ve washed my face and taken a dose of allergy medicine, I apply a heavy layer of ointment to my chest and crawl into bed. I briefly consider getting myself off, but exhaustion quickly begins to consume me. The only thing I have time to dwell on before jet leg wins is the fact that I showed a woman named Christine my asshole…for nothing.
*
I open my eyes to the blinding sun beaming in through the gauzy cream coloured curtains. I bury my head beneath the covers and groan at the intrusion just as I hear a light knock on the door.
“I’ve got coffee,” Kyle says, from the other side.
“You may enter,” I reply.
I peek up and squint against the light, allowing my eyes to adjust before I remove the covers completely and sit up. Kyle sets a large white mug on the nightstand and once I’m certain that I’m not going to drop it on the bed, I pick it up and inhale the delicious aroma before taking my first sip. Mmm. Yes.
Kyle pulls a chair from the corner of the room and brings it closer to the bed, taking a seat and resting his bare feet on the mattress. He sips his own coffee and we enjoy a peaceful silence for several minutes.
“You wanna talk about it?” I ask, setting my mug back down on the table.
“Not really,” he says.
“Have you spoken to George yet?”
“Not since I told him that you were coming with me on vacation to fool my family into thinking that I’m straight and off the market,” he says with a bitter laugh. “He’s pissed.”
“It’ll work out,” I say. “I mean, you can’t really blame him, but he needs to understand that you’re just not ready yet to tell your family.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “I know. That’s pretty much what I told him while he was shoving his clothes into a backpack. He said he didn’t want to stay in the condo while I was gone.”
“He’ll cool off and you guys will figure something out,” I say. “Maybe some time apart is a good thing.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Anyways, I’ll let you get ready. We’ve got breakfast with the family in an hour,” he says, standing and heading for
the door.
I throw the covers back and take my coffee with me to the bathroom. I grab my phone from the top of the dresser as I walk by and swipe to my messages. I touch on the ongoing group message that I have with both of my sisters and type a quick text before I get in the shower.
Me: Made it. Nearly had sex with hot stranger last night. Ended up with allergic reaction in the form of a rash all over my chest. Rash killed mood completely.
I strip off my pajamas and see that my chest is now pink and not nearly as swollen or patchy, thank God. I take another dose of medicine and start the shower. As the water warms my phone beeps twice.
Bell: Are you technically a virgin again? Since it’s been so long? Does a hymen grow back, like that type of lizard whose tail grows back when you hack it off?
Tully: I’m going to google that. I’m sorry, Pop, but I’m proud of you for trying <3
I did try, I think to myself as I step under the large spray and close the shower door. That’s what matters, right? I totally stepped out of my comfort zone.
I quickly wash my hair and shave my legs. When I step out of the shower, the entire room is bathed in steam. I reach for a thick blue towel and wring out my hair before wrapping the towel around my body. I flip on the fan and wipe the screen of my phone.
Tully: It would be a medical anomaly if your hymen grew back. You are not technically a virgin again. Although, when you do have intercourse again you should consider using a personal lubricant to ease the discomfort.
Me: Thanks for the tip. Love you.
Tully: Ditto xox. Think orgasmic thoughts.
Bell: Love you too. Also, just got off the phone with Dad. He wants me to tell you that you look beautiful and that you’re smart and fun.
I blow dry my hair and pull it back into a ponytail so that it’s off my neck. It’s not even eight a.m. and I can already feel the humidity wafting in through the open window. I apply sunscreen to every inch of my skin because I’m pasty as hell and put on a bit of mascara and some light foundation. I decide to wear shorts today and pair my favourite denim cut offs with a strappy black tank top and my black flip-flops. When I enter the living room, Kyle is staring at his phone, seemingly lost in thought.