Just As You Are

by Kate Mathieson

  ‘Well, it wasn’t a fair race. You had a head start.’

  ‘You want another challenge?’

  I laughed. ‘I do.’

  ‘Wow, I think it’s too early for “I do’s”, Emma. Now you’re practising for our wedding. You do move fast.’

  I sloshed more water his way, then turned onto my back, kicking as hard as I could so all the water would go in his direction.

  When I stopped, I expected him to complain again. But he’d disappeared.

  ‘Nick?’ I turned to my right, to my left. I couldn’t see him at all. The sea flattened out.

  ‘Nick?’ I called out, spinning around. He hadn’t come up to the surface yet. I hesitated. I swam a little further out, to where I couldn’t stand, but it was as black as black further out, and scared me.

  ‘Nick!?’ I counted to five. Now I was getting worried.

  Something tugged at my leg. I’d heard about this, that most shark attacks happen at night and close to the shore. I thought I’d dreamt it at first, but there it was again. Tug. I gave a loud squeal, convinced it was a shark that had taken Nick and was now coming from me, then swam as fast as I could back to where I could stand, in the water reaching my hips, my heart beating out of my chest. Where was Nick?

  Something tugged again at my leg. I yelled out, ‘Help!’

  Suddenly the shark emerged from the water laughing, stood and splashed me. ‘God, Emma, you’ll wake the entire hotel of people trying to sleep.’

  ‘What … the …? You …’ I was so mad, I tried to push him away, but he grabbed each of my wrists in his hand. He had nice hands, and now they were pulling my hands towards his chest.

  ‘Were you going to try and hit me with your tiny, ineffectual fists?’ He had a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘Not ineffectual. As you may likely find out.’ I could barely speak. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. My body seemed to crave his; it was all I could do not to grab him and kiss him. I’d never wanted someone to touch me, to kiss me so much. I could hear the blood pulsating in my ears.

  Suddenly he reached out and pulled me into him. Our bodies pressed together. I felt his warm skin against mine, his breath hot on my neck, and a delightful buzz spread out across my chest. My mind ticked over. He was a stranger. And this was a naked hug. Was that weird? Should it be? Oh, God, was he getting excited? Um, down there? Before I could think of anything else, he’d put his hand on my right cheek.

  ‘Emma,’ he said in a soft, serious voice.

  ‘Nick,’ I whispered, staring into his chocolate melt eyes. The entire beach disappeared from sight. It was just him and me.

  He leaned forward, smelling of warm whisky, and ocean water; his lips found mine. I closed my eyes. He gently kissed me, no tongue, but I felt breathless. My body shuddered.

  ‘Emma.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You’re shivering.’

  ‘Well, I’m cold.’ And this situation is making my body quiver in ways it never has.

  ‘Let’s get you back.’

  ‘But I—’ I wanted to stay out there and kiss him all night.

  ‘We can go swimming again later.’ He stepped back.

  ‘OK,’ I said, and was glad he kept holding my hand, feeling the warmth tingle up and down my arm.

  ‘Can you wait here a second?’ he asked. ‘Just stand in the shallows.’

  ‘A naked girl by herself at the beach? You better be quick.’ I turned to face the ocean, so no one could catch a glimpse.

  He dashed off before I had a second to watch his body. I couldn’t believe this was happening. My last travel hurrah, and I was going to return with this story. What a story. My friends would never believe me.

  In a few minutes he was back with two fluffy towels, one already around him, and a jumper for me.

  ‘Oh, and this.’ He held up a bag of chips and a bottle of whisky. ‘I nicked it from Brett’s stash.’

  He held the towel around me, and then handed me my black dress, underwear and his jumper – which smelt like the ocean, and felt so warm. He took a sip of whisky and handed it to me. The liquid warmed up in seconds.

  ‘C’mon,’ he said. Dragging a few logs together, he started to make a fire. It was crackling in no time, and he laid out the towels for us to sit on.

  ‘Well, this is quite nice,’ I murmured, sitting down in front of the fire. ‘I didn’t realise it got this cool in the evenings in Fiji – isn’t it meant to be summer here all year round?’

  ‘Sometimes it gets cool, which is nice, because then you can cuddle up by a beach fire.’ He sat next to me, near enough to touch me. I could see the flames and reflection dancing on his face, in his eyes.

  ‘So, what’s your story, Emma?’ he asked.

  I felt my body leaning slightly towards his. ‘Well, I’m a retired aqua aerobics World star, who’s bringing pink petal caps to the masses. And you?’

  ‘I’m a retired picnic rug, who got tired of people walking all over me.’

  ‘That’s terrible!’ We both laughed.

  He paused. ‘Now, truthfully?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been travelling around the world for seven years, working here and there, and now here I am in Fiji.’

  He gave a low whistle. ‘Wow. Seven years. I’m impressed. I think I’m heading back to London for work. Maybe via France. And Austria. Don’t tell me you’ve been there too?’

  ‘Why, yes, I have,’ I said and realised he was leaning close to me too. A burst of warmth and excitement spread across my chest. I wanted him to kiss me, and I didn’t even know what I was saying. I felt tongue-tied and nervous, and when I do that – I talk.

  ‘In fact, it sounds like you need travel advice, and, wouldn’t you know it, besides specialising in petal caps, I am a great travel guide and know lots of random facts about all kinds of things.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Like it would take one million two hundred thousand mosquitoes, each sucking once, to completely drain the average human of blood.’

  ‘Morbid, but interesting.’ He chuckled.

  When we stopped talking, there was only the sound of the breeze through the palm trees.

  ‘How great would it be to do this, and travel, for the rest of our lives?’ I said.

  ‘Depends how you travel,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Good point. How about hiking in the wild, the mountains, waking up to fresh air and trees every morning, then a few nice hotels thrown in so you can remember what it’s like to wear a bathrobe, rather than a scratchy towel the size of a postage stamp?’

  He laughed. ‘Yep, I know all about those towels. I spent some time on a boat travelling around Antarctica.’

  ‘Antarctica! What were you doing there?’

  ‘This sounds cheesy – but I took some time to volunteer with seals and penguins.’

  ‘Yep, you’re right, sounds very “I’m a dolphin trainer” to me,’ I said, trying not to laugh.

  ‘Do dolphin trainers even exist?’ he teased.

  ‘In every woman’s fantasy they do.’ I winked.

  ‘Oh, we’re sharing fantasies now!’ He laughed. ‘You do move fast.’

  I playfully swatted his leg. ‘Well, right now, my fantasy would be to live by the ocean, perhaps in a palm tree.’

  ‘I hope you’ll wear clothes,’ he teased. ‘Could get sore.’

  I suddenly became aware that I’d been completely naked before – it was strange to think that I hadn’t felt that awkward, that embarrassed, in fact I hadn’t really given it a thought.

  ‘I’m not the crazy idiot that decided to take off my clothes.’

  ‘Aren’t you?’ he asked with a smile.

  ‘Well.’ I nodded. ‘Perhaps I’ll call it peer pressure from a picnic rug.’

  ‘I’m not sure anyone would believe an inanimate object made you take off your clothes.’ Nick laughed then took a swig of whisky. There was a moment of comfortable silence between us, before he looked over at me with his gorgeous chocolate eyes. ‘So, if yo
u could, would you stay in Fiji for a while, then?’

  ‘Why not? Sun, sand …’ I paused. Was it sex? God, was that the perfect trilogy?

  ‘And?’ he teased.

  I waved my hand as if I were shooing away a fly. ‘You know the answer to that.’ Then I changed the subject. ‘So, what’s every man’s idea of a woman’s fantasy job?’

  ‘Well, personally speaking, I go a bit crazy for someone trekking up a mountain or taking photos in a double barrel wave.’

  ‘I’ve trekked through a jungle in the Amazon. Does that count?’ I asked coyly.

  ‘It sure does.’ He leaned in, putting his hand lightly on the small of my back. My stomach did a small flip as he asked, ‘Can I get you another whisky? Water?’

  I couldn’t breathe for a second because he’d got too close, and now I could only smell the wonderful scent of his aftershave. Up close, I noticed he hadn’t shaved in a day or two and I wondered what his stubble would feel like. His perfect jaw line, his full lips.

  ‘I … I’ll just have a water,’ I stammered. ‘Actually, no, I’ll have a whisky.’

  ‘Both?’ He dug around in the bag in front of him. ‘I don’t want to get in trouble for looking like I’m trying to get you drunk.’

  ‘Are you?’ I teased, still thinking about his lips.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Yes? But more no. I mean – how can I answer that?’

  He handed me the bottle of whisky. I took a sip and let the warmth flush around my body. He pointed at the stars.

  ‘That’s Sirius there; look closely, can you see it flashing? It’s one of the nearest stars to us, but if you are patient you’ll see it has flashes of green and blue.’

  ‘Now, Mr Penguin Trainer, you’re just showing off,’ I said, my head tilted to the sky, trying not to look at him.

  ‘Am I?’ He was staring at me, instead of the stars.

  He took a deep breath and looked back at the stars. ‘Where are you headed next?’

  ‘Who knows?’ I shrugged, trying not to think about kissing him. ‘Alaska,’ I said dreamily, thinking about my list of places to travel next. ‘Or the Galapagos Islands.’

  ‘I hear Alaska’s beautiful, but expensive.’

  ‘Kinda like Antarctica.’

  ‘Will you be volunteering with penguins?’

  ‘Maybe wolves.’ I smiled. ‘But they’re not as high on the totem pole as dolphin trainers or penguin volunteers.’

  ‘I’ve heard. Sadly, wolves are down near otter trainers or snake collectors.’

  ‘Well, I’m going there determined to bring the sexy back to wolves. Correction, sexy wolves back.’

  He chuckled. ‘You’re bringing sexy wolves back. Where? In your suitcase?’

  I laughed. ‘No, I meant … it was … a Justin Timberlake reference.’

  ‘Yes, I got that. I’m not that much older than you.’

  ‘Really?’ I teased. ‘Could have fooled me. Since you’ve got a lot more grey hairs than I do.’

  ‘Hey!’ He leaned away from me and covered his hair. ‘The truth doesn’t always need to be pointed out.’

  I giggled and reached to point them out, but he ducked away. ‘And what do you have planned next, Mr Penguin Trainer?’

  ‘Well, me and my grey hairs may decide to step up on the career ladder, and earn lots and lots of money. Or just quit and travel. Or live somewhere near the beach. Or the country.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful,’ I said, thinking of my perfect place. ‘A little white country cottage?’

  ‘With a veggie garden,’ he added.

  ‘An apple orchard and a bunch of chickens.’

  ‘Definitely chickens. Some dogs too.’

  ‘A chocolate Labrador!’

  He laughed. ‘How good would that life be?’

  I sighed and took another sip of whisky. ‘I’d give up anything for some space and wildness out of the city. But how would I make money?’

  ‘How do you make it now?’

  ‘Oh, you know, bits and pieces.’ I thought back to my Mexican burrito days. Do not talk about them, they’re as sexy as mentioning that you wear granny panties three days in a row. ‘But I really like to paint and draw.’

  I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I’d always wanted to be an artist. But I’d never actually sold a painting; in fact, showing my paintings to people made me feel awkward and unsure, like I was handing them my baby, and asking was it ugly? For that reason, I hardly showed anyone my paintings Right now, in my backpack was a rolled-up wad of landscapes – the turquoise seas of Cyprus, a piece of Dubrovnik coastline, an old door I couldn’t stop looking at in Venice. They’d probably end up shoved to the back of my wardrobe. I hadn’t divulged my secret passion to anyone.

  So, I couldn’t believe I was telling Nick this fact about me. I was used to meeting travellers, and going out with them for the night, sharing silly stuff, but this felt different, it felt much more personal.

  ‘I’d like to see one.’

  ‘Maybe one day.’ I smiled at him, and was surprised to realise I meant it.

  Nick took the whisky bottle, which was dug in the sand, and took a swig. ‘I’ve been focused a lot on work these last few years. Working really long nights. It’s the same thing day in and day out. Deadlines. And appointments. And bills to pay. Being single, sometimes I’m not sure when to leave the office. Nothing to go home to, you know?’

  I nodded. I did know that feeling.

  ‘Maybe you don’t, because you’re always travelling, being a free spirit, you probably have no idea what it’s like for us nine to fivers.’

  I was about to let him know that I knew all too well, when he leaned in closer to me, and I could feel the warmth of his body. The smell of whisky and ocean salt on his lips. I forgot all my words. He paused for a second. ‘Do you ever get lonely, travelling by yourself?’

  I swallowed as he leaned in closer, inches from my face.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, then admitted, ‘sometimes I think that’s part of the reason I keep moving around the world so much.’

  He looked into my eyes, and traced his finger along my cheek. The sound of the waves against the sand was a soft lull, like someone whispering. He leaned towards me and brushed a piece of hair back from my face. My stomach flipped. I could smell sea salt on him, and mint aftershave; his lips were close. He kissed me softly and I melted slightly. His lips were soft on mine as he held my face in one hand. I lost all track of time and the night. An hour could have passed. Or a second.

  Finally, he broke away. ‘Wow.’

  ‘A lot, wow.’ I felt light-headed and dizzy.

  ‘Do you want to go home and warm up?’ he said, looking into my eyes, then he held up his hand. ‘And before you ask, this is not how I get girls back to my villa. This is how I hopefully get you back to my villa.’

  I nodded quickly. He put out the fire, grabbed towels and my hand and led me across the soft white sand. His villa was about fifty metres further down the beach. A white stucco town house, with white tiles inside, an open-plan kitchen, a long, carpeted corridor, and a small plunge pool at the back in a green-grass courtyard.

  ‘You own this?’ I think my mouth was hanging open.

  ‘Part own it. It’s a timeshare.’ Nick threw the bags down on his blue striped couch. ‘C’mon, let’s get warm.’

  He disappeared down the hall to the right. I peered in the doorway just in time to see him stepping naked into the shower, and letting out a sigh.

  ‘It’s hot! And feels so good,’ he called out, leaving the shower door open.

  ‘Um, both of us?’ I asked from the hallway.

  ‘Sure, why not?’ Nick shrugged. ‘Don’t you want to warm up?’

  Despite the rivers of alcohol pumping around my body, I was still shivering and cold. I caught a glance of myself in the bathroom mirror; my bottom lip looked almost blue.

  ‘OK, then.’ I took a deep breath, peeled off my dress and underwear and quickly stepped carefully into the sho
wer. Nick guided my shoulders and moved me until I was in the middle of the water. My ice-cold feet and hands started to tingle as the blood rushed back into them. I paused at this point, aware of him being naked, standing behind me. I imagined him getting closer, whispering in my ear, and it shot a tingle down my back.He squeezed a line of body wash across my shoulders and started to massage it deeply into my neck, my shoulders, my arms, down my back. Warm water. Suds. He turned me to face him. Fire curled around my belly, and I wanted him to kiss me.

  As if sensing my thoughts, he leaned down and brushed his cheek against my lips. I could feel the tiny stubble against my skin, his square jaw. My stomach fluttered. He cupped both my cheeks with his hands and kissed me, gently. It wasn’t the type of kiss where I was thinking, where should I put my hand? Which way do I tilt my head? Tongue? Or no tongue? We just came together, and my brain thought of absolutely nothing except how amazing it felt to kiss him. It felt right.

  When we broke away from our kiss, I was so light-headed I almost needed to put my hand on the shower glass to steady myself. I closed my eyes and felt as if I were floating. When I opened them, Nick was looking at me intently.

  ‘Are you warm?’

  I laughed. ‘Um yes.’ Because I couldn’t be warmer, but he was turning off the shower. The water stopped running, and he was stepping out and handing me a towel, and as I stepped onto the fluffy white bathmat and dried off, I thought, oh, that’s it?

  And I felt disappointed by that. Not disappointed like I’d felt with Norse God – because that had been nothing. But disappointed because I liked Nick, in a way that I probably shouldn’t. I liked him more than any of the guys I’d been on awkward dating app first dates with. I liked him enough to want to see him again. I liked him in a way that made me not care about what I ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ do, because I knew what I wanted right in this moment – to be with him, to sleep with him, to stay here, and wake up next to him.

  As if reading my mind, he waited until I had dried off, and wrapped the towel around my body. ‘Do you want to stay?’

  I nodded.

  He led me down the white-tiled hallway to his bedroom. Without saying a word, he leaned down and lifted me up – effortlessly – his muscles flexing, he slid me onto the bed. I’d always dreamed of an amazing man, a sexy, wild version of me, a beach hut somewhere, but nothing like this.