Losing It - After a Day at the Beach

by Rebeka Rose

  Dear readers:

  Due to sexual content and language, this book is recommended for mature readers aged seventeen (17) and older.

  Thank you for picking up a copy, and I really hope you enjoy this sweet story!

  Rebeka Rose

  Losing It

  After a Day at the Beach

  He thought if we broke up months before he went off to college, before the summer, that would make things easier.

  It didn't.

  Jason always had these ideas, these rules, about how things had to be. He drove me crazy, but I loved him—hey, aren't there about a million songs about that?

  I kept seeing him around town, and despite what my mother and older sisters said about my heart, and how it would mend, and that seeing Jason would get easier, the pain had barely mellowed. One night, I had to ditch my friends at a movie, because I saw someone with Jason's hair in the row ahead of us, and I couldn't be sure it wasn't him. That guy with the perfectly-combed blond hair sat with a girl, his left arm casually around her, and even though the guy wasn't wearing Jason's watch, I couldn't know for certain it wasn't him.

  That was in July.

  I took on extra shifts at the pizza place, for money plus distraction, and started flirting with the new delivery boy. He wasn't my type, because he wasn't Jason, but we had great conversations about books and movies.

  By August, I would catch sight of Jason once a week or so, and it wouldn't flatten me for the entire day. Was I over him? You tell me. I was still locking myself in my bedroom daily, looking over photos of us together and holding the locket he gave me for graduation. What a waste of pretty jewelry. I'd barely worn it a week when we broke up.

  “I'm glad this is mutual,” he'd said that night, and I'd held my tears and pretended I agreed.

  On the last Saturday of August, everyone from work drove all the way to the beach. The owners of the restaurant were fixing the plumbing in the kitchen—an emergency repair—so all of us suddenly had the day off together.

  We lay on towels in the sun, taking turns spreading suntan lotion on each other. It was the first time I'd been touched in weeks, and I didn't care who had their hands on my back and shoulders, because it felt good.

  As the shadows grew longer, we shook out our towels, pulled up camp, and moved further down the beach, to a rocky stretch where bonfires were allowed in the summer. One of the waiters had brought along a guitar, and the other guys teased him about using the dry wood as kindling.

  Eventually, we got the fire going, and we all sat around the towering flames, as the matching orange-hued sun set over the water. Once the sun's edge touched the horizon, it sunk so quickly, I could almost see it moving. When the last pink sliver slipped away, the air turned cool, as though someone had flipped a switch.

  The burly-but-sweet, cuddle-bear of a waiter tuned his guitar, then started to play. Soon we were singing along with the few songs we all knew the words to, but mostly listening as he played.

  The delivery boy, Andy, wouldn't leave my side. He seemed jealous, tapping me on the arm and asking me a question every time I turned to talk to someone else for more than a minute.

  Andy was cute, but he was the kind of guy you'd try to set up with a friend. I'm not saying my ex, Jason, was the epitome of testosterone, but he was a man. By comparison, Andy was a boy, and seemed way too young for me. The guy said he was eighteen, but his cheeks were as smooth and hairless as my own.

  Andy was telling me about the new speakers he bought for his Mustang when one of the other waitresses, a girl I didn't know that well, came by and stuffed something in my pocket, and then something in Andy's.

  “Party favors,” she said, her words slurring.

  The air cooled as she came between me and the bonfire.

  I thanked her as I reached for my jacket, shaking out the sand before I put it on.

  She ran off giggling, and I stuck my hand in the pocket of my shorts. She'd gifted me with a foil packet, with a circular ring within—a condom—not that I'd ever used one or had need to.

  Andy was staring at me, his mouth open.

  I said, lightly, “That was both unsettling and unexpected.”

  He didn't say anything, but he kept staring at my chest through my jacket, like he was making plans to put the moves on me that night, now that he had the necessary supplies.

  I asked myself, how about Andy?

  Andy certainly seemed willing, and we liked each other as friends. When I was with Jason, I'd been in no rush to lose my virginity, because I figured we'd be together a long time. I hadn't felt ready, mature enough, until that summer. I'd tried to put the idea in his head at one of the graduation parties, but he hadn't picked up on my hints. He had all his rules, about how things had to be done, and the only way to get him to do what I wanted was if I made it seem like his idea.

  Sex. I really wanted it, and not just for the emotional aspects. I wanted to do bad things while saying dirty words. I feared he'd lose respect for me if he knew the kind of thoughts I had, the fantasies.

  I didn't push the sex issue, because I thought we had all summer before he left for college, but then we broke up, and we didn't.

  I still wanted to do those things, though. I wanted to ride a guy, cowgirl-style, and put his cock in my mouth, and everything. I enjoyed the feelings I got thinking about sex, how the area between my legs would get so swollen it was almost numb.

  Being in the sun all day at the beach had given me intense cravings. I was single, free, and I could do anything I wanted. The possibilities turned me on. Looking at Andy's shoulder muscles and the edge of his skin where his T-shirt collar ended and a few brown hairs from his chest popped out—that really turned me on.

  I was sitting on a log, facing the bonfire, while Andy sat at my feet, just to the side of my legs. He was pretending to be innocently looking at rocks, but tying my shoelaces together. I laughed at him and splashed water from my water bottle on the back of his tanned neck.

  “You're such a prankster,” I said.

  “Who, me?” He batted his eyelashes and did his innocent look.

  I leaned forward to take off my shoes completely, my face right next to his. I ran my toes through the cool sand and wondered how innocent he'd look if I asked him to go for a walk with me, and whispered dirty things in his ear. I could tell him it was a one-time-only deal, just a goofy thing between friends.

  If we did have sex, he'd probably let it slip to one of our co-workers, and then everyone would know. We'd be the subject of gossip, for a week or two, until someone else did something. Andy had nice lips, and a cute butt, and … maybe if we went for a walk and kissed, I'd know from that.

  As I was sitting on my log, studying Andy's mouth, thinking about kissing him, a guy walked up to us and stopped in front of me.

  My eyes were turned down, pointed at the sand, and I froze. I recognized those ratty old running shoes. I'd teased Jason about them, but he insisted they were too comfortable to throw away, and that he had a system for rotating footwear. My gaze drifted up, past muscular legs showing their tan through blond hair.

  He was wearing swimming shorts, and I could see the outline of his manhood behind the camouflage pattern. His crotch was at my eye level. My cheeks burned with heat, and I was afraid to meet his eyes, but I kept moving my head up.

  His shirt was loose-fitting, but didn't hide his gorgeous body. Jason was naturally athletic, broad-shouldered and strong. He could have been on the football team, but his father, the chiropractor, preferred he stick to running and wrestling. His mother didn't want him to do anything but study and stay away from girls, but that was a different issue.

  I sucked in my breath as I looked
up past his chin and sexy lips, to his eyes. Even in the limited light from the bonfire, they were as pale and sparkling as I'd remembered, but there was something new in his expression. That look hurt me, to my soul, but I didn't know what it was.

  I said, my voice trembling, “Hey, Jay. What's wrong?”

  He broke the dour expression with a wide grin. “I wasn't sure it was you. Did you cut your hair?”

  Andy got to his feet, shaking the sand off his legs and standing between us.

  “I'm Andy,” he said, extending a hand.

  As they shook hands, I realized what Jason's expression had been. Jealousy. He thought Andy and I were together.

  Without thinking, I got up from my log and threw my arm over Andy's shoulder.

  “We're having a staff party,” I said.

  Jason's eyes narrowed as he looked at Andy, then me, then Andy again.

  My body felt hot and cold at once. I liked seeing him jealous, but felt about using poor, sweet Andy like this.

  Andy, however, didn't seem to mind. He wasted no time wrapping his own arm loosely around my waist and tucking his fingertips into my back pocket for good measure.

  Angrily, his forehead furrowing, Jason said, “You sure didn't waste any time.”

  His obvious disgust felt like a slap in the face.

  “Andy's just a friend,” I said. “A good friend. We work together.”

  “You had your chance, man,” Andy said.

  Jason raised his clenched fists, looking like he might hit Andy, but took two steps back.

  Andy pulled away from me and puffed up his chest, facing Jason squarely. “Yeah, man? You wanna discuss this? Huh? Discuss?”

  Jason sneered. “Discuss? Uh, no man. Carry on.” He gave me a wave and started walking away. “Check ya later.”

  Behind me, all my co-workers had stopped their partying and were silent, watching the spectacle. They all knew about Jason, because of my pouring my heart out at work, but most of them had never seen him until now. I turned around and motioned for them to carry on with their partying. I heard people murmuring that he was taller than they'd imagined, and cuter. Some of the girls giggled and said things I wished I hadn't heard. That hurt.

  Andy took my hand and squeezed it. “Can I buy you a drink, m'lady?”

  I wanted to run after Jason, who was disappearing down the moonlit beach, but that would be bad for me. He had his rules, and I had mine. Acting needy and desperate was not acceptable.

  “Sure,” I said to the drink offer, and a few minutes later, I had a red plastic cup of something sweet and boozy.

  Andy raised his own cup in a toast, saying, “To new beginnings.”

  I felt like everyone around the bonfire was watching me and Andy. “New beginnings,” I said, smiling.

  The first drink tasted like another, as they say, and within an hour, I felt like one of those appetizers that's dipped in batter and deep-fried. I know it sounds weird, but after the drinks, I had this foamy, crunchy shell around me, and anything other people said or thought couldn't hurt my feelings. I was also in a very kiss-happy mood.

  I walked around the fire telling all my coworkers I loved them, and kissing them on the cheeks.

  Andy kept following me around, this ridiculous goofy look on his face. If we got together, would he always act like that? Like my puppy?

  After I'd finished hugging and kissing all my co-workers, I said to Andy, “I saved you for last.”

  He grinned, his big, brown eyes glistening with puppy-dog enthusiasm. “Best for last.”

  We walked away from the bonfire, holding hands. Had I grabbed for his hand or had he made the first move? I couldn't remember, and it didn't matter. My teeth were floating, like planets in outer space. I felt like I was going to tip over at any moment, but I miraculously stayed upright. Andy seemed equally drunk, each of us propping the other up then nearly pulling us both down.

  “C'mere,” he said, and he reached for my other hand.

  Neither of us had shoes on, and the sand was dense and cold here, the waves of the ocean smoothing out our footprints.

  Holding both hands, we spun in a circle, our heads back and laughing. Our fingers slipped apart, and my butt hit the sand first. Andy fell to his knees, practically on top of me.

  With his face inches from mine, I leaned in and kissed him.

  He seemed stunned, taking a moment to recover, then he moved in, kissing me and thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

  Okay. So, it wasn't like kissing Jason, but it wasn't terrible. He was eager, and his lips felt hard, not soft, and we kept touching teeth.

  The sand beneath me was cold, the water seeping into my clothes, but despite the shivering, heat was rising within me. After a few moments of kissing, he got better, his lips softer, and we were rolling around, first one on top, then the other, and giggling.

  I felt something against my hipbone, and I reached down and felt with my hand, to make sure it was what I thought it was.

  He groaned, his eyes closed. There was a firm rod within his jeans, and I squeezed it again, enjoying the sound he made when I did.

  Andy grabbed my hand and pulled it away from his crotch, then rolled me over onto my back again. He kept holding my hands against the sand, pinning me down, and he kissed my neck. He sucked and licked my sensitive skin, up and down the side of my neck where it was the best feeling in the world. That swirling, desperate desire pooled in my belly and between my legs.

  He pulled away with a strangled noise.

  I blinked in the dim light.

  Someone else was there—Jason. He'd pulled Andy off me, and the two of them were a blur of elbows and bodies.

  I screamed and yelled at them to stop.

  They carried on like I wasn't even there, but a few people from the bonfire must have heard me scream and were running over.

  I scrambled to my feet and pushed hard with both hands, not sure who I was hitting.

  They both tumbled to the ground, still wrestling. They were a similar size, but Jason had the practice, and he pinned Andy easily. Everyone was still for a moment.

  And that was when Chad, the big, dimwitted waiter who'd brought the guitar, picked up Jason like he was a bag of potatoes, and held him up with one meaty arm as he punched him in the face.

  Jason went down, hands over his face, next to Andy.

  Andy instantly changed sides and started patting Jason on the back, asking if he was okay.

  All the girls started pushing Chad back, giving him shit for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.

  Blue and red lights flashed over us. It was a cop in a beach cruiser, and everyone scrambled to get away and ditch the booze and whatever else they had.

  I ran to Jason's side and knelt next to him. He had his hand over his right eye, and he was laughing, saying, “He's left-handed! I didn't even see it coming.”

  Andy said, “Chad acts like a big pussy, but that was insane. I had no idea. I'm sorry, man.”

  Jason said, “You know, you're tough, man. If you went in for wrestling, you'd get really good.”

  Andy grinned. “Thanks!”

  I stared at the two of them, both looking like they'd just had the greatest time of their lives.

  “What the hell? You two are best friends now?”

  Jason looked sheepish as he got to his feet, then helped Andy up. “Sorry about everything,” he said. “I guess I overreacted.”

  I cleared my throat. “Do I get an apology?”

  Jason said, “You didn't get punched or thrown to the ground. So, no.”

  Andy laughed hard, slapping his knees.

  “Fuck you guys,” I said. I turned around and started walking back to the bonfire. The cop was over there, asking questions and shining a flashlight at people, but I needed my shoes.

  Andy ran up alongside me and grabbed my arm. “Hey, why don't you get a ride home with Jason instead of me?”

  I held my hands up in disbelief. I had no words. Now Andy was rejecting me?

>   “You and Jason should talk,” he said. “You have unfinished business. I really like you, but I can't compete with his ghost.”

  “His ghost? Andy, you make no sense.”

  He gave me his puppy-dog look.

  “Fine,” I said. “But don't drive off until I have a ride for sure. Don't leave me stranded out here. Not that it wouldn't be the perfect end to the day.”

  Jason was really quiet as we walked to his Jeep in the parking lot. I hadn't been in his vehicle since the night we broke up, and it seemed familiar, yet different now. The good luck charm I'd given him a year earlier still sat wedged between the heater vents below the window. It was a stuffed elephant I'd won at a carnival, and we'd named him Hugo and joked that he was our son.

  “Seatbelt,” Jason said.

  “Of course. I know the rules. It hasn't been that long.”

  He didn't even crack a hint of a smile.

  We pulled out onto the highway, the yellow dotted line the only thing to see beyond the windshield. The body of the Jeep made all these little squeaks I'd forgotten about.

  I asked, “Who were you at the beach with?”

  “Rick and his girlfriend. But they left an hour ago, and I was just sitting out there, thinking.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  “Nothing, I guess. I like how the ocean makes me feel.”

  I rubbed my arms, wishing my jacket was thicker. “It makes me feel cold, apparently.”

  “Sorry,” he said, reaching forward quickly to turn up the heater.

  “You know, Andy wasn't hurting me. I don't know what you thought you saw, but Andy isn't like that. He's not a creep.”

  Jason kept staring straight ahead, into the gray light of the headlamps on the highway. A big commercial truck drove past in the other direction, the pull of the air in its wake shifting our small Jeep noticeably.

  Finally, he said, “I wasn't thinking anything at all.” He flicked the switches on the dash, turning the radio on and changing channels, stopping on the one I liked. “I didn't think it would be so weird between us. I thought we'd be friends.”