Heavy Turbulence

by Kimberly Fox

  “This week is going to be off the hook,” Ethan says, looking at the ocean out the window.

  I take advantage of his distractedness and run my eyes up and down his muscular body. His hand falls to his side again, touching my leg.

  I slap it away and he smiles, still looking out the window.

  This week is going to be interesting, to say the least.

  Chapter Three

  Tanya

  Day One

  “This is going to take forever,” Aaron complains.

  We’re standing in the long line for check-in and it’s hot and the line is not moving. I glance over my shoulder at the VIP area where Ethan, Megan, Lucas, Mr. and Mrs. Carson and Stephanie are hanging out as they get checked in. Stephanie has her arm wrapped around Megan and they’re both laughing.

  Sweaty round flesh touches the back of my arm and I yank it away. There’s a fat Italian man in a tight Speedo behind me who keeps standing a little too close. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about the concept of personal space. It’s insanely hot in here and his wet belly hits my arm again. Ew.

  Aaron is looking at the tall ceiling of the spectacular lobby in annoyance. The ceilings are built with hundreds of interconnecting beams of wood that must have taken years to design and build all for our visual enjoyment and all he can do is stare at them in irritation.

  I glance back over my shoulder at the VIP area and the waitress is bringing them a tray of champagne flutes. Little beads of water snake down the tall, cool glasses and all of a sudden my mouth is incredibly dry. The happy group each take a glass and cheers with each other. I have to look away.

  Cynthia and Julia leave the front desk with their key cards and new, pink, plastic bracelets on their wrists. Julia waves as they walk away. “We’ll see you at the pool, love.”

  Aaron drops his suitcase and huffs. “I’m going to get a drink at the bar while you wait,” he says.

  There’s a bar on the far side of the lobby with a few people drinking their afternoon away. His eyes are fixated on it.

  “Can’t you wait with me?”

  His shoulders drop in annoyance. “We don’t need two people to wait, do we?”

  I really have to pick my battles with Aaron and I really don’t want to be fighting with him all week. I just want a fun week with no drama but nobody else seems to want the same thing.

  “Fine,” I say, eating my frustration. Relationships are all about compromise. “Why don’t you get us both a drink and come back and wait with me?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

  “Strawberry daiquiri please,” I call out to the back of his head.

  The line moves about six inches and I have to force myself to not look back at Megan and the other VIPs. My self-discipline doesn’t last long, I can’t help it, and I glance over, immediately regretting it. They’ll all be staying beside each other in their ocean view suites while I’m in the back of the resort with a view of the parking lot.

  It feels like I’m back in high school at the loser table looking at the cool kids and wishing that I was one of them. But when did Megan upgrade? She was always at my side at the loser table. ‘Dorks forever,’ we would say. But now she’s a cool kid and she’s left me behind.

  She walks away arm in arm with her new best friend, Stephanie, and I feel a sharp pang in my heart. Stephanie throws her hair back and laughs at some inside joke that I’ll never be a part of. I turn away, holding back the tears burning my eyes.

  “I brought you something,” a deep, raspy voice says from behind me. It doesn’t sound like the half-naked Italian man.

  Ethan is holding up his glass of champagne. The excited bubbles float anxiously to the top. “Thanks,” I say, “but my boyfriend is getting me a drink.”

  He points to the bar where Aaron is talking to two teenage girls who can’t be older than nineteen. “I don’t think he’s coming back.” Aaron’s beer is half finished and there’s no sign of the strawberry daiquiri that he’s supposed to be bringing back to me.

  Ethan holds up the champagne flute to me. Fuck it. I take it from him, touching his hand in the process. I take a sip and have to hold back a moan that’s bordering on sexual. The coolness of it, mixed with the taste and the bubbles is so good in my dry mouth. It’s just what I needed in this heat.

  Ethan reaches for the glass and touches my hand as he takes it, making my arm hairs stand to attention. He rotates the flute, turning the spot where I drank towards him. He takes a sip, placing his mouth on the exact imprint of my lips. He empties the glass, looking at me over the flute as he drinks.

  “Tasty,” he says, licking his lips. Everything that he says sounds sexual. Probably because everything that he says is sexual.

  I take a deep breath. It just got hotter in here. What is this guy trying to do to me? What is his game?

  He smiles as he picks up his bag. “I’ll see you at the pool.”

  I gulp as I watch him walk away. Shit. Now I really wish that I had stayed on my diet and exercise program. I had wanted to lose the winter pounds that I gained but slacked off the past few months and the wedding week came up faster than I had thought it would. I’m not huge but I’m definitely not as tight and hard as I’d like to be. Definitely not as tight and hard as Ethan must be used to.

  Whatever. He’s tight and hard enough for the both of us.

  I finally get checked in and the guy at the desk hands over my key card. “You’re in room number one,” he says.

  “One?”

  “Sí. One.”

  I look at him nervously. “Do they start by the beach?”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “They start right there.” He points across the lobby to the first room, which is pretty much in the lobby. It looks like it could be a janitor’s closet or something if it weren’t for the big number one stenciled on the door.

  I sigh as I glance to my right where the ocean is. At least two hundred yards away. Can this week get any worse?

  I turn and walk straight into the shirtless sweaty body of the Italian man standing behind me. I spoke too soon.

  I choke back the vomit creeping up my throat as I peel a wet chest hair from my lips and head over to get Aaron. He’s chugging a beer with the two young girls in bikinis.

  “Are they all out strawberry daiquiris?” I ask, too pissed to hide it.

  He points to the bartender who’s watching TV. “I was bringing you one. They just have to make it.” He suddenly remembers his new friends and introduces me, as if I give a shit about them. “Girls this is my…friend.”

  “Right,” I say through a clenched jaw. I ignore the girl who has her hand out to shake mine. “I’m going to our room. Friend.”

  “I’ll come with you.” He chugs the rest of his beer and throws a crumpled dollar bill on the bar. I roll my eyes and head to our room, which conveniently is only a few feet away, while he makes plans to meet up with the girls later.

  The line where the orange tiles of the lobby meet the blue tiles of the hallway is right in the middle of our door. So basically, we’re half in the lobby, half in the resort.

  “This is our room?” Aaron asks from behind me.

  “Yup,” I say sliding the key card into the door. It clicks open and when I walk into the dark room the old, musky smells hits me like a roundhouse in the face. It’s small with one twin bed draped in cardboard sheets and dusty curtains that belong in an abandoned trailer home. The TV looks ancient.

  Aaron closes the door and I can still hear the cheesy music from the lobby through the thin walls. Maybe it just needs some air. I yank open the curtains and am dazzled by the wonderful ground floor view of the parking lot. Not only that but there are two Mexican workers leaning against our window smoking. They both turn around, look directly at me and then return to their cigarettes.

  An image of Stephanie and Megan running through their VIP suites freaking out over the hot tubs and the beach views plays through my head. For some reason, Ethan is sitting shirtless on t
he bed.

  Aaron opens the mini-fridge and cracks open a can of beer. He jumps on the bed, spilling beer on the sheets, and turns on the TV.

  “I’m going to the pool,” I say, grabbing my bag and heading into the bathroom. I don’t even care if he comes with me. He feels like a stranger lately. He was fun when we were younger but any electricity that we once had has vanished like a power failure and I feel like I’m left in a cold, dark house in the middle of an ice storm. I don’t even know why we got back together.

  My heart is pounding as I pull out my bikini. Was it this small in the store?

  I take a deep breath and shake out my trembling hands as I stare at the tiny piece of fabric on the sink. You can do this.

  I peel off my clothes and slide the bikini on keeping my eyes closed the whole time. My eyes are pointed at the floor when I finally open them. The mirror is standing in front of me like a judge, jury and executioner. It’s time for my sentence.

  Shit.

  Tanya Prentis, you are guilty of too many milkshakes and not enough exercise. Sentence: A week of embarrassment and shame.

  I spend the next ten minutes cursing myself for not working out and cursing the milkshake store next to my office for being open in winter.

  “It’s not too bad,” I lie, turning and looking at my softness and muffin top from every angle.

  A brilliant idea pops into my head and I’m on the cold tile doing sit-ups until I’m out of breath and my non-existent ab muscles are burning. Too late for sit-ups now.

  My face is red and sweaty when I get up and I’m out of breath. Goddamn I made it even worse.

  I slather on some suntan lotion, take one last look at myself and suck in my stomach as best I can before going outside.

  I need to hear something nice from Aaron. If he wants to redeem himself, then now is the moment.

  His eyes are fixated on the TV. “Like my new bikini?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

  He pries his eyes from the TV screen and looks at me. His nose scrunches up slightly as he focuses on my stomach. I feel extremely naked right now. I want to curl up into myself like a hedgehog and hide.

  “It’s nice,” he says, in a not entirely convincing way. At least he didn’t call me fat. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

  I grab my sarong from the chair and wrap it around myself.

  “Yeah that looks better,” he says. He jumps off the bed and pulls his shirt off revealing his pale flabby stomach and undefined arms.

  He doesn’t care. He’s not self-conscious. Why do guys expect their girls to be perfect when they don’t expect the same thing of themselves? Why do I have to have abs when he’s content to have a beer gut?

  He’s more self-conscious about my body than he is about his. It’s such bullshit and I’m sick of it.

  I take one more glance in the mirror before leaving. Fuck it, I don’t look that bad. My breasts look bouncy and full in my top and my ass is nice and round; it’s not small but it’s also not too big. I wonder what Ethan will think. Will he lose all interest when he sees my muffin top and pale skin?

  We open the door to go to the pool and the lobby is packed with a new bus arriving. Aaron looks at the white, sweaty people and frowns. “You should have booked a room with an ocean view,” he says.

  Is he fucking kidding me?

  I spin on my heels and stick my finger in his shocked face. “I would have if you bothered to chip in.”

  He takes a step back and puts his hands in the air. “You know I’m saving up for a car.”

  That’s it. I’m done with him for now. I storm off shaking my head. He’s not going to ruin the day for me. He’s not going to ruin my week.

  He follows me, keeping a safe distance behind.

  I’ve had enough of his shit for one day. I storm through the resort, too pissed off to look at the beautiful sculptures lining the path and too annoyed to admire the spectacular palm trees.

  The resort is huge with buildings of rooms on both sides that start at the lobby and finish at the beach. I pass restaurants, cafes, stores, bars and tons of sunburnt people. The pool is the longest in Mexico and winds through the resort like a snake.

  I hear a laugh that I wish wasn’t so familiar. Stephanie is in the water at the pool bar looking perfect in a tiny yellow bikini. I tighten up my sarong as I watch her throw her hair back and laugh like she just heard the funniest thing ever.

  God, I hate that girl.

  Megan, Lucas and a few others in the group are already there getting their drinking on, including Ethan. He’s crouched in the pool and I can only see a distorted view of his body through the water. His hair is wet and messy. It looks a little too cute for his level of hotness.

  The group cheers as Stephanie stands on the submerged bar stool and starts dancing. Does this girl have no shame?

  She reaches down and grabs Megan to pull her up. I let out a laugh. Megan won’t do that. We hate the look-at-me girls who dance on bars. We always laugh at them.

  My mouth drops as Megan climbs up next to her and starts shaking her ass to the shitty Caribbean music.

  “There they are,” Aaron says when he catches up to me. He tosses his stuff on an empty chair and looks at me, standing there with my beach bag still in my hands. “Coming?”

  My chest tightens. I don’t know why I’m so nervous but I am. I hate being around Megan when Stephanie is there, I hate being around Stephanie all of the time and the thought of Ethan seeing me in a bikini is giving me a panic attack.

  “I’m just going to read here for a bit,” I say.

  Aaron shrugs and dives into the water to join the party. I sigh as I sit down in the shade and pull out my book. I feel a bit better as I slide my hands over the ridges on the cover. At least I have you. It’s Carol Standings, my favorite author’s, new book called All Angels Fall. I’ve read all of her other books multiple times and this is her latest. I’ve been saving it for this vacation.

  I breathe in the fresh smell of new book and get shivers as I read the first line. The laughter from the pool bar gets to me and I reread the same sentence six times without it registering in my brain.

  I close my eyes and wish that this day was over. I’m not in the partying mood. I never am when Stephanie is around. Megan is so different when she’s there. I like the dorky Megan who comes up with insane fan theories about Harry Potter and the Megan who has watched hundreds of hours of the shopping network and has never bought a single item. I miss my friend.

  I continue reading the same line over and over, still not registering it, when I wish that I brought some headphones. As more people join the party at the pool bar, the more I think that I should go over there, but I’m too shy.

  Stephanie makes her way over to Aaron and the two of them continue their conversation from the airport. Every time she throws her head back and laughs he stares at her tits. Her hand finds his arm again and my heart starts pumping. My jaw hurts from grinding my teeth so hard.

  My eyes dart over to Ethan, which they tend to do every few seconds, and he’s staring right at me. Shit. I lower my eyes to my book, only seeing black dots on the page, and pretend to read.

  When I can’t take it anymore I look up and he’s smiling at me. Ignore him. I reread the first paragraph not taking anything in. I’m going to get my money’s worth at least. At this rate I’ll read each line twenty times.

  I look up again and gasp. Ethan is walking over in the pool with two drinks in his hands. My face burns red as I look back down at my book in panic. Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

  Lucky beads of water are rolling down his massive chest onto his perfect abs. His tattoos are nicer than I thought they’d be, starting at his huge shoulders and snaking down his hard, thick arms. His skin is already tanned and sparkling in the sun. He’s got a superman symbol tattooed on his arm. How fitting. I bet under his boxers he’s the Man of Steel.

  I look down, trying to focus on each printed letter. Anything, rat
her than the sexy, tattooed man walking towards me.

  “Hey.”

  I clench my jaw nervously and pretend not to hear him.

  “Hey,” he says again, splashing me.

  “Watch it,” I complain, yanking All Angels Fall over my head. “This is a new book.”

  “No reading on this vacation,” he says, taking a sip out of the beer in his hands. “Unless it’s a condom wrapper.”

  “Ugh,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Do you talk about anything besides sex?”

  “Of course,” he says with a grin. “I talk about foreplay sometimes, lingerie, masturbation.”

  “Great. Then you’re familiar with the term go fuck yourself?”

  “I am,” he says with a smile. “But it’s so much funner with company.” He holds up a plastic cup with red slush in it. “I brought you a drink.”

  “Thanks but I don’t really feel like drinking.” Why am I lying?

  He ignores me and tries to look at the book in my hands. “What are you reading anyway?”

  I hold it up and shrug. “Just some book,” I lie. This is not just some book. I’ve been waiting to read this for months.

  He shakes his head and takes another sip of his beer. “Don’t come to paradise to escape in a book. You can do that while waiting for the bus. Come in the pool and escape with me.”

  I drop the book on the chair and stare at him, contemplating his words. I do need to let loose a bit this week. I’ve been wound up way too tight.

  “What’s the drink?”

  His face lights up as he holds up the cup. “Strawberry daiquiri.”

  “Extra roofies?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  He shakes his head. “Not my style. I want to see your beautiful face, nice and alert under me while I slide into you.”

  My pussy pulses at his words. Wow.

  “That’s direct.”

  He stares me in the eyes. “I want to fuck you, Tanya. Now saying that, would be direct.”

  My breath quickens and my mouth becomes moist but I can’t take my eyes off him. Nobody has ever been that direct with me. It’s intriguing as much as it is rude.