by Geneva Lee
We hadn’t even gotten to Mexico and I’d already found myself in trouble.
Somehow Cassie had finagled us seats in first class. I didn’t ask how, because I had a feeling it had something to do with the emergency credit card Trevor had given her a few months ago. He was always flashing his money around her, and if our roomy flight accommodations were courtesy of his screw up, I wasn’t surprised. Not that I approved of Cassie using his card for revenge, but it was nice to know I’d get some work done on the plane. Plus, we got to pre-board, which meant that I was already seated and relaxed. I even opted for some white wine when the flight attendant came around to take our cabin’s orders.
Lounging back with my glass, I watched the parade of travelers struggling with their bags while Cassie organized a stack of magazines to read in-flight. Maybe a few days in the heat won’t be so terrible after all.
Cassie leaned close to me and whispered, “So Markson is hot for you.”
“Bitch, please,” I said loudly and the woman across from us shot me a withering glare. I smiled back. Putting a girl in first class didn’t mean she had to behave.
“I suppose I don’t need to ask how you feel.” She giggled triumphantly and settled back in her seat.
No, she didn’t. Try as I might to calm myself, I’d become a bundle of nerves since we ran into him. I tapped my fingers on my tray, wishing I’d dragged Cassie away from that bar earlier. I glanced up and spotted Markson getting on board. My clit sent a distress signal at the sight of him. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and wondered if a quick bathroom masturbation break counted as joining the mile high club.
The line of people inched forward and Roman flashed me a crooked smile. “Have a safe flight.”
I grinned like a fool and nodded. The second he was out of sight I slumped against my headrest and swallowed the rest of my wine in one exasperated gulp.
“You should totally nail him. On the flight. Become a full-fledged member of the real mile-high club instead.” Cassie said as if she could read my mind.
“What?” I turned toward her, sure she was joking. “I am not nailing Roman.”
“You want to nail him.”
“I do not want to nail him,” I repeated a bit too loudly and a few heads swiveled to stare at me. The woman from early shook her head in disgust. This time, I shrank into my seat and pretended I was invisible.
Who cared if Roman Markson was on this plane? Or if he looked incredibly hot? I had bigger things to worry about. My focus needed to be on getting into med school, not men, and I’d ensured that would be the case by telling Brett “no” before we left. I’d just dumped a perfectly nice guy to focus on my own goals.
No. Now wasn’t the time for romantic entanglements. It was the sensible play. The trouble was that my body seemed to have more mutinous sentiments.
Cassie laughed and tossed me a Cosmo. “You so want to nail him. There are 200 Sex Lessons in there. Maybe you can play teacher. Did you bring a plaid skirt?”
“Remind me to kill you as soon as we land.”
“Isn’t that against the Hippocratic Oath?” she asked me as she waved the flight attendant over and ordered two more wines.
I stiffened at the joke. My friends loved to tease me about my dream profession, calling me Doctor Jess and buying me Grey’s Anatomy T-shirts. I knew that getting into med school required a lot more than saying I wanted to be a doctor and surviving a residency meant hard work and no social life. Yet another good reason to keep Roman in my fantasies and out of my bed. “I’m not a doctor yet.”
“Jess!” Cassie rolled her eyes. “For the last time, it’s not a jinx if we talk about you being a doctor. You’re going to be one. You’re right on track, but it wouldn’t kill you to let loose this week.”
It was easy enough for Cassie to say that, but she didn’t know how hard it was to get into med school—or to survive med school for that matter. Being able to earn that title was the one thing I couldn’t absolutely count on in my five-year plan and I hated that little variable.
Almost as much as I hated the near constant stress I felt. Could Cassie be right about letting go and having some fun? Would a week off from studying be all that bad?
Or was I just trying to find the excuse I needed to open a door for Roman?
“Truce?” Cassie suggested as she held up her wine glass.
I nodded and took a drink just as she added, “You still want to nail him.”
Chapter 5
Five hours later, we landed in Mexico. Cassie and I stumbled off the plane, six glasses of wine down. My eyes crossed slightly as we made our way toward customs. I touched the tip of my nose, wiggling it to discover it was numb. Then I counted my steps.
“Will you stop doing your intoxication checklist?” Cassie demanded, looping her arm through mine to steady herself. “Because newsflash: you’re drunk.”
I wasn’t intoxicated, but I was definitely tipsy. I didn’t tell her that lest she decide to drag me to a bar.
Cassie dropped her passport in front of the customs officer and smiled sweetly at him.
“Purpose of your visit?” he asked. He glanced up, but his gaze stayed locked on Cassie, who giggled encouragingly at the attention. “Business? Pleasure?”
“Definitely pleasure.” She bit her lower lip suggestively, and he stamped her passport a little too enthusiastically. She had that effect on guys. Cassie barely had to speak and they were falling at her feet. That was a quality I lacked, but hopefully it meant that she’d find a rebound guy sooner rather than later.
The officer barely looked at me, releasing us both to collect our luggage with a “Welcome to Mexico.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had three messages. One from Jillian that simply read, Just remember ‘Mas tequila por favor’ followed by a rant about how her mother had forbidden her from sleeping in the same bed as Liam while they visited, and two from Brett checking to see if I’d landed and if I’d cleared customs. He’d apparently forgotten he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. I wrinkled my nose. Was he sitting somewhere refreshing my flight information for updates?
Cassie bumped my hip, drawing my attention back to her. “What’s that face?”
I flashed my phone at her.
“Tell him we’ve been arrested and are awaiting trial for carrying contraband over the border!” Her dark eyes gleamed playfully as she clutched my arm.
“He’ll come down here if I message him that,” I said, knowing it was true.
Cassie’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell him that.”
Shoving my backpack and tote bag higher up on my shoulder, I scanned the arrivals board for information on our luggage, but my vision was still a tad blurry from our happy hour on the plane.
“Dos,” a warm voice said in my ear. I jumped a little in surprise and Roman’s hand shot out to steady me.
“Crap!” I clutched my chest, laughing.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his chocolate brown eyes crinkling with amusement “I thought you’d want to know the luggage will come in on carousel two.”
“I do…want to know that,” I said, trying to sound casual. Or at least not drunk. “I’m just out of it. Text message. Drama back home.”
I was blabbering now, the result of too much wine, too much hot guy, and too little self control. I heard it spilling out of me, but I was powerless to stop the chatter. Roman always got me a bit tongue-tied when I saw him on campus. It was a classic Jess-style crush. It wasn’t the first time I’d been attracted to a scholarly type. Probably owing to being such a nerd myself. But his effect on me was infinitely worse with him standing here looking like a male model. Instead of undermining his nerdy sex appeal, it only enhanced it. Especially since I knew he was only a few years older than myself.
Roman’s lips curved into a smile and he waved to someone in the distance.
“I should get my luggage,” I said. And stop making a fool out of myself. Besides, I’d already lost Cassie in the crowd.
“Roma
n!” A jubilant voice called his name, and I looked up to see an older woman ambling toward him. She was half his height but that didn’t slow her down.
“My grandmother,” he explained to me
“We haven’t even gone on a date yet and already I’m meeting the family.” It was out of my mouth before I could take it back, but Roman responded with ringing laughter as he embraced his grandmother. I shifted from foot to foot, wondering if now was the time to sneak away.
He stepped back, speaking in rapid Spanish and gestured to me. The older woman threw her arms around my waist and hugged me while I eyed Roman over her gray head.
“My grandmother wishes she knew more about my life in Washington,” he explained. When she broke away, she took my chin in her hand, looking deep into my eyes. After a moment, she smiled and said something to Roman.
It was moments like this that made me wish I had taken more than the two required years of Spanish in high school.
“Aba!” Roman shook his head. “Ella no es mi novia.”
Novia I remembered, and it made me blush to think his grandma thought I was his girlfriend. Roman shrugged apologetically, but he couldn’t quite meet my eyes.
“Your bags?” Aba asked him.
“Aba speaks fluent English. She was testing your Spanish,” Roman said.
“It’s not very good,” I said, biting my fingernails.
Aba took my hand gently from my mouth, and said in a low voice, “It’s good enough.”
She patted it before she started toward the now moving luggage carousel.
“She’s opinionated,” Roman said after she was out of earshot.
“She’s lovely,” I assured him. I couldn’t help but think of Jillian’s MeMa. “Her name is Aba?”
Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I should have introduced you properly. I call her Aba because I couldn’t say Abuelita when I was little.”
“Abuelita is Spanish for grandmother,” I said.
“See your Spanish isn’t that bad.” Roman knocked his shoulder into mine, but the friendly gesture sent a shock of electricity burning through me.
I tried to shake it off as we moved closer to the carousel. “I think I learned that from Dora the Explorer actually.”
Roman snorted. “Big fan?”
“I’ve got the hots for Backpack,” I said, licking my lips teasingly. “The kids I babysit during the summer would watch it all day if I let them.”
“I hope you’re well-paid,” he said. Obviously, he was familiar with the show. “Here we go!”
Roman jumped forward and pulled a duffel bag off the revolving belt, but he didn’t say goodbye.
“I’ve got this,” I promised him. Maybe he needed an out. He struck me as the type of guy that stuck around to help a girl with her suitcase or hold open a door. I didn’t want to believe he might be lingering to spend time with me.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I pack light,” I said.
“Cassie doesn’t,” Roman said, and I followed his gaze to my best friend who was pulling a third bag off the belt.
“One of the reasons I can pack light. If I forget anything, she’ll have at least two of it in her suitcase.”
“Good friend,” he said.
“The best.”
There was an awkward pause, ended only by the arrival of my bag.
“Have a good trip!” he called as he joined his grandmother.
Wheeling my bag behind me, I caught up with Cassie who was frowning at her phone.
“Something wrong?” I asked her as I grabbed for one of her bags.
“Nothing.” Her answer came out like a chirp, a mix between forced cheerfulness and anxiety.
I knew that tone. She could delete a guy from her contacts but still hope he would call. And I guessed from the violent way she shoved her phone back in her pocket, Trevor the Ass hadn’t called.
“We’re in Mexico,” I said, trying to perk her up. “Sun. Tequila. Did you get Jills’s text?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah. A no-sex edict from Tara should prove entertaining.”
“You know Jillian’s going to screw him all over that house now. This week is all about girl power,” I said. “No matter what country you’re in.”
“Oh, I’m getting laid, preferably by someone tall, dark, and handsome, who doesn’t speak a word of English,” she told me.
“Come on, chicks before dicks,” I reminded her.
“Whatever. I saw you with Markson just now. Someone’s hot for teacher.” She batted her lashes at me as we headed toward the taxi stand outside.
“I don’t bounce from guy to guy, remember?” It was as much of a reminder to her as myself, because I knew she was right.
Cassie winced, and I instantly wished I could take it back.
“I’m sorry, Cassie. I’m being a jerk,” I said, letting go of my suitcase to give her a quick hug.
She forced a smile and opened her mouth, but instead of speaking she screamed, “Thief!”
I whirled around in time to see a man racing off with my suitcase in his hands.
“Crap!” I darted around, looking for police, or Batman, or something. No one even looked up. Shoving my other bags in Cassie’s arms, I started in the direction the thief had headed just as someone brushed past me running the same way. Roman was chasing the guy. I picked up speed, trying to catch up to him. He was fast, his muscles straining against his T-shirt as he gained velocity. Still by the time I caught up to Roman, the man who stole my luggage was out of sight.
Roman panted as he bent over. “Sorry, Jessica. I saw him too late.”
I tried to shake off his apology while catching my breath. “Not…your…fault. I shouldn’t have let go of my suitcase.”
But even as I said it, my heart dropped into my stomach.
“Did he get anything important?” he asked.
I had my passport and my laptop. The thief hadn’t gotten any of my money, which was in my purse, but I had no clothes, all of my toiletries were gone, and I was in a foreign country. “My underwear and every stitch of clothing I packed. I hope there’s nude beaches.”
A slight smile tugged at Roman’s lips and I realized what I’d said. How could it be so easy to say such humiliating things around him? I was a curious combination of too comfortable and uncomfortable at all times like a faulty shower that was constantly spitting out hot and cold water.
“Did you catch him?” The question died on Cassie’s lips when she caught sight of us panting.
I shook my head. “I hope you packed enough for two.”
“Always,” Cassie said, dropping her arm over my shoulders. “I have a tiny, red bikini that is going to look amazing on you.”
Of course Cassie would try to cheer me up with promises of scanty clothing. I’d packed my own respectable one piece, which was damn sexy if you asked me. Now I would be at the mercy of Cassie’s wardrobe. But when I looked up, I caught Roman staring at me as if he was imagining me in that tiny bikini. Suddenly, I wished I was wearing it.
“We should definitely go to the beach,” he said, a husky note in his words. Then he shook his head as if to clear it of the lusty haze that seemed to engulf us. “Do you want me to wait while you call the police?”
On you? I wanted to ask. Nothing I was thinking was illegal, but it was morally questionable. He was a teacher at my university, after all. He stared at me like he was waiting for an answer. Oh right, I’d been robbed. That’s what he was talking about. Why was it so hard to prioritize with him around? “Will they be able to do anything?”
Roman shook his head. “Probably not.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, but my throat was thick as I spoke. I’d wanted to get away from my problems and here I was, already in trouble.
“Here.” Roman pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and produced his business card. “I’ll have my cell on me. If you need anything, please call me.”
“I’m guessing you want u
s to stay out of trouble,” Cassie said as I took it from him.
“I’ve already been robbed. How much more trouble can I get in?” I asked. Cassie winked at me like she had plenty of ideas.
Roman hesitated, something unreadable in his eyes, before he muttered an awkward goodbye and left to join his grandmother. Slipping his card into my back pocket, I took a deep breath and let Cassie lead me away. She threaded her hand through mine as we found our way back up to the taxi stand, and I let my head drop on her shoulder.
“You know,” she said, “there are easier ways to get a guy’s number.”
“Shut up,” I said, even as a giggle betrayed me. There was no way I would be calling unless I was in serious trouble, especially since I was pretty sure getting caught up in Roman would be trouble enough.
Chapter 6
Two hours later it hit me that I’d been robbed. Apparently, being the victim of a petty crime had a delayed emotional reaction that wasn’t quite shock. Instead of going numb I dissolved into a puddle of tears on the floor of the villa that Trevor’s credit card was graciously paying for. Any other time I’d probably be lecturing Cassie on her financial revenge scheme, but right now I was in a foreign country without my own underwear.
Cassie dropped down next to me and rubbed my back. “You have your passport and computer, right?”
“Yeah,” I blubbered. “But my favorite jeans were in there and my make-up and my toothbrush.”
“We’ll buy you a new toothbrush and new favorite jeans. Fuck the make-up. You don’t need it.” She was both comforting and mildly alarming, which made me feel better.
I nodded even as more tears streaked down my cheeks. My fingers massaged the cornflower blue rug underneath me. I focused on the feeling of the soft fibers on my skin, willing myself to get a grip. “This is a really nice rug.”