by Jay McLean
He nodded, his strong face guarded.
"I came to apologize."
A wary look entered his eyes. "It's not necessary. I can take a brush off."
My hands felt useless, hanging by my sides, when I was dying to touch him, rubber suit and all. "Can we go somewhere more private?" The tiki hut was crowded with tourists.
He jerked his head to the back and I followed him to the long dock behind the commercial operation. He stopped about halfway down and looked at me. I knew I'd have to explain my actions or I'd be stuck dealing with the calm, unsociable Joaquin I'd seen at school.
"I wasn't trying to brush you off," I said.
Did his eyebrows arch with an expression of skepticism? "You don't owe me an explanation," he finally said. "As you pointed out, you were having fun. Maybe I am a little uptight. But I have a lot of responsibilities that you don't have."
"Those guys didn't mean anything to me."
He shrugged. "Typical Americans."
"What is that supposed to mean? Are you prejudiced?"
He picked up a rope and began coiling it, his movements precise, methodical. "Maybe I'm jealous."
I clapped a hand to my mouth. Did that mean he was interested in me?
"How do you think we Mexicans feel," he continued, "seeing you guys come down here, spending all day hanging out on the beach and all night partying, while we spend our vacations working to help support our families?" He knotted off the rope and slapped it down on the deck.
I stared at him. He wasn't jealous of me dancing with another guy. He was jealous of the fact that we could have fun while he had to work.
A part of me felt a lick of shame. Even while I was standing here plotting how I could revive my spring fling, he was tidying up the dock. But part of me wanted, more than anything, to kiss him. I wanted to feel his tongue, strong and sure, in my mouth. I wanted to feel his hand on the back of my head, pressing me to him. I wanted everything.
Without thinking, I flipped my beach cover-up off and jumped in the sea. When I thrust up out of the cool water, my hair streaming down my back, Joaquin was squatting at the edge of the dock, looking down at me.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I want to play." I deliberately left my meaning ambiguous but I knew what I meant. "Come on in. That wetsuit must be hot."
"Something is hot," he muttered. He dove over my head, slicing into the water ten feet from me.
As she'd done yesterday, Rosa swam up and butted me. I hit Joaquin, his arms automatically wrapped around me, and our gazes caught. We didn't have life vests on today and I could feel the entire length of his body against mine. His lips parted slightly and I thought he would speak, saying another cutting sentence to distance me.
Instead, his head dipped down, slowly, as if his own reluctance was a force field he had to fight.
But when our lips finally touched, it was incredibly sweet. The sea, the sun, the delicious man. I was swept away. I fell totally into the kiss, wrapping my legs around him and allowing him to keep us afloat with slow movements of his legs. My head fell back as he delved deeper, sucking my tongue into his mouth, scraping it with his teeth. His hand slid inside my bikini bottom and clutched me like he was a drowning man. I pressed closer, my hips gyrating to find the sweet spot for that enticing bulge—
"No!" He lifted his head so suddenly, the word was out before I'd known he moved. He was panting, and his face was flushed.
I stared in shock.
"No," he repeated as he lifted my arms from around his neck. He grabbed my ankles and unwound my legs.
I splashed a bit as I lost his support and my brain was too slow to process what was happening.
"Joaquin–"
"Is that all you want from me? A quick semi-public fuck in the water to add to your trove of spring break stories?" He grabbed the dock as if he needed to anchor himself to something solid.
He didn't want that?
"Nothing wrong with a quickie," I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Something bumped me and I realized Rosa had approached. She nudged me again, and I ran one hand over her rough skin. I wondered if she'd somehow sensed the agitation in the atmosphere.
"A quickie." He shook his head. "You college girls don't even know what sex is, despite all your cool attitudes. You think it's some drunken fumbling in a narrow bed with a guy who doesn't know anything about women."
My mouth dropped open. What kind of sex did he know?
"What are you looking for?" I said. "Roses and vows?" Maybe that wasn't nice, but I was tired of his jabs.
His dark eyes flashed over me. "You have no idea the kind of sex I want to have with you."
"Then why don't you show me?"
He guffawed. "What are you, eighteen? Barely?"
"Nineteen," I said defensively. "I took a gap year."
He smiled bitterly. "Yeah, I took two 'gap years'." He made air quotes around the words. "But I didn't go to Peru or Nepal to find myself. I worked my butt off to get my share of the money I'd need for college."
"Hey, it's not my fault if—if—" I stopped. There was nowhere to go with this line of thought. My education was paid for out of my parents' estate. He, apparently, was paying for his own. That did make things different for the two of us. But neither one of us controlled the circumstances in which we'd been born.
"I'm twenty," he said.
"Not so much older."
He narrowed his gaze. "Women have been coming on to me since I was fourteen. How long have you been sleeping with guys?"
I flushed, but more from anger than embarrassment. Why was he trying to push me away when I knew he was interested? I moved a shade closer, pretending the sea had nudged me. "What are you afraid of, Joaquin?" I reached out and touched his neck, the strip of warm, tan skin above the wet suit. "Are you really so experienced? Or afraid I'll find out that you're just like any other college guy who doesn't know much about women?" He was very quiet at school and definitely did not give out playboy vibes. In fact, I couldn't remember ever seeing him with a woman. And that was strange, given his movie star looks.
But he laughed, and the mirth was genuine. "You're cute, Susanna. But, no."
I knew he was interested. He hadn't been able to hide it in the water. Not that an erection was such a big deal with a guy, but it gave me the little push I needed.
I trailed my hand down the front of his wetsuit, until I reached his waist. The suit was not sexy. But I heard him inhale a sharp breath and my imagination jumped into overdrive. I knew what was just below his waist, or at least what had been. Was he still aroused, even as he warned me off? He held still for a timeless moment, and we both wondered how far I'd go.
I had to know.
My hand drifted lower, trapped between the sleek rubber of his wetsuit and the buoyant embrace of the green sea. I reached nirvana, right below his waistline. The bulge was unmistakable.
I touched it for one second as he sucked in another breath. Then my hand was jerked away, and crushed in his grip for another moment until he dropped it and moved away.
"I said no, Susanna." His voice was deep and husky.
"Don't you want me?"
"Of course I want you. I've spent the last half hour looking down into your cleavage and I'm harder than those poles holding up the tiki." He nodded at the dock. "But in my world, you don't just take what you want."
There it was again—his defensiveness about 'his world'. Did he mean being Mexican? Did he think I was prejudiced against him?
I laid down my last card. "I thought we could have fun together."
"Yeah," he said bitterly. "I understand. You're having your spring break and a hook-up is on the menu. But I don't want to be fucking used like that, no pun intended."
He pulled himself onto the dock. "I need to get to work."
Chapter 6
Two more days passed. I worked on my tan, gorged myself at the restaurants at our all-inclusive hotel, and drank probably more than I should have.
What I didn't do was hook up with any of the horny guys who swarmed around us like seaweed in the shallows.
Even though Joaquin had thoroughly rejected me, I still couldn't stop thinking about him. I liked his steadiness, even if it had worked against me in the end. When I was around him, I felt that my life could end up with a purpose in it, that it might be more than endless parties and stupid antics.
When Claire caught up with me in our room after dinner on our last night, and bounced on the bed, shrieking with drunken laughter, I knew I'd changed a bit this week. I didn't want to go out drinking tonight. I didn't want to wake up hung over and vaguely worried about what I might have done the night before.
She sat up straight. "Grab a suitcase or something. We're going shopping tonight."
"Shopping?" I picked up my hairbrush and began brushing.
"Yeah, like the other night. Tiffany says she missed some shit that she needs to get."
"You're going back to Juanita's? That doesn't sound smart."
"This isn't college, Susanna." Claire giggled. "We don't need to be smart."
"I think I'll pass." The moon would be full. I thought I might enjoy a walk on the beach for my last night in Mexico.
"Come on," Claire wheedled. "It won't be any fun without you. It's our last night. Don't be a party pooper tonight."
I finally let her talk me into it. I rationalized that they hadn't been caught before so it wasn't dangerous. Plus, I didn't have to take anything myself.
Since the other girls each had a suitcase, we took the resort bus to the sister hotel of the hotel we were staying at. We pretended we were moving from one hotel to the other, thus explaining the luggage that a cabby might be curious about. We had to walk a couple blocks from the hotel to Juanita's white mansion.
The suitcases rattled behind us, and I was glad I didn't have one to lug around. The night was quiet and I felt a horrible pang of loneliness when we passed homes with warm lights shining into the darkness. All of those people had homes and families and people who cared what happened to them. I had no one but these drunken girls who wouldn't even remember in the morning what we'd done together.
There were cars parked randomly on the street, but as we approached Juanita's, I jerked to a stop in horror.
"That's a cop car," I hissed. "Right in front of her house."
"Girl, you're a wuss," Tiffany said. "We're turning off into that alley before we get to the cop. You think he's paying attention? Probably jerking off and hoping no one calls him out to a beheading."
I grabbed Claire's arm. "Don't be stupid. I don't believe in that much coincidence."
"You're no fun tonight," Claire answered. "Come on. It'll be a great story."
Yeah. In the police blotter.
I told her I'd see her back at the hotel, and then turned around and walked quickly back the way we'd come, alone and lonely. The sound of my feet scuffing the macadam was loud in the quiet night. The breeze carried the scent of the ocean to me, reminding me of the water park. Perhaps, on my last night in Mexico, I was already too nostalgic for my spring break. But I told myself that, in all of this uncaring world, there was one being who might offer a simple appreciation of my existence.
The dolphin would be just the kind of company I needed tonight — affectionate and non-demanding. Maybe I didn't like the idea of her captivity, but I could see why dolphins were used for therapy with humans. It would be nice to hang out on this beautiful night with someone – or something – non-judgmental.
I stopped once, stiffening in alarm when I thought I heard a car door slam, and a deep voice barking out something. I couldn't be sure it was the cop. At that point, I was too far away.
So I continued walking until I came to the hotel strip. A taxi sat there, as if waiting for me. I walked up, got inside, and gave the driver my destination.
"They'll be closed," he said.
"I know."
Without another word, he put the car in gear and began driving.
Chapter 7
I had no choice but to slip into the water naked. I hadn't planned this outing and had no bathing suit. Of course, I wouldn't see anyone. The water park was closed.
I slapped the water the way I'd seen Joaquin do it. I wasn't sure if anything would happen, but Rosa swam up right away. Her head came out of the water as she "smiled" at me and then she butted me affectionately. I wished I could climb on board and ride her like a maiden in an ancient myth. Maybe I could be carried off to an enchanted world and leave all my problems behind.
The dolphin seemed to sense my loneliness. She swam in tight circles in front of me while I stroked her as well as I could. The water splashed quietly due to my movements, not hers, and the moon shone overhead like a benevolent god. I inhaled the strong briny scent of the sea and felt a form of peace settle deep inside me.
I didn't hear footsteps on the dock. But Rosa turned her head, signaling the presence of an intruder. I recognized him instantly in the moonlight.
"What are you doing here?" I had to crane my neck to look up at him as he towered over me.
"I'm the night guard tonight." Joaquin kicked off his flip flops and sat down, swinging his legs into the water. He wore a pair of board shorts and nothing else.
"You work day and night?" I tried not to stare at his bronze chest, but the moon insisted on highlighting his sculpted torso.
He shrugged. "My uncle needs the help."
Ouch. No wonder he resented us vacationing Americans.
I knew he couldn't tell that I was naked underwater, but desire whispered its siren song in my ear. I could smell his heated male essence. He sat on the dock like a typical guy, with his legs spread. I tried to imagine what he'd look like without the shorts.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, repeating my question.
"I wanted to see Rosa one more time." Despite the fact that I knew he couldn't see beneath the black water, I was a little self-conscious about my nudity. Joaquin had made it clear he wasn't going to hook up with me, so I didn't really want to expose myself. I began babbling.
"I've been thinking I might focus my studies on marine biology, or something where I could work with dolphins," I said.
"You'd work with captives?" His voice held no judgment, and I appreciated that.
"Surely there are research sites with wild dolphins? But even if I couldn't do that, I kind of see your point about making them accessible to humans. It's hard to resist them once you know how wonderful they are. People might be more willing to safeguard them and their habitats once they know more about them."
He swung his legs in the water. "You like Rosa, don't you?"
"Yeah. She's—comforting." I petted her as she swam by. "See, Rosa might save me. So I should return the favor, right?"
He raised his brows. "Save you?"
"Yeah. From a life of frivolity, emptiness—" I shrugged, although no one could see it. "I've been out here thinking that I need to decide what I'm going to do with my future."
He nodded. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd choose the company of a dolphin over a party on the last night of spring break."
I shrugged again. "The real me isn't as shallow as party girl me."
"Where are your friends?"
"You want the truth?" I don't know what prompted my sudden burst of honesty. I guess I felt guilty about our actions.
"Yeah. I guess so."
I told him about the stupid bling ring. I saw his eyes widen with dismay, but I continued. Once I'd started, I had an overwhelming urge to unburden myself.
"So that's why I'm alone tonight," I finished up. "I don't like what they're doing."
"But you did it once." A squiggle of bewilderment creased his brow. "Why do you have such a careless attitude about the future? You, of all people."
"What do you mean?"
"You have so much going for you." He propped his hands on the dock and leaned over. "You're a smart girl. You're beautiful. Why would you ever risk throwing away your life over something as stup
id as a burglary?"
"I didn't take anything." A ripple of water slapped my face as Rosa swished by.
Joaquin shook his head. "Pay attention, Susanna. You think the cops would care who was holding the loot if you were on the scene? Fuck, this is your life you're messing up. What would your parents say if they knew what you were doing?"
I stared at him, motionless, as if I might freeze his words if only I didn't move. If I didn't acknowledge them, maybe they would disappear, be unsaid, be forgotten.
The silence stretched out between us until Joaquin reached out suddenly and squeezed my shoulder. His hand was warm, hot even, on my ice-cold skin.
"I just touched a sore spot," he said, his voice low. "What's wrong, Susanna."
A tear leaked out. Another. I bit my lip to stop them. I feared the tears would gleam like little stars in the moonlight and he would notice them. I wanted to turn my face so he couldn't see them, but that would break the motionless spell in which I was hiding.
But no matter what I did, the memories rushed in, the horrible facts that had blown up my life when I was only twelve years old. I tried to push them back, but the words spilled out.
"My mother caught on fire first," I whispered. "Why did they tell me that?"
He stared at me in shock for one long moment. "Oh, my God," he said, as he slid into the water and crushed me to his strong, young body. One hand clasped the back of my head, and pressed me into his chest. "What happened?"
"They were taking a day trip to Nantucket. Just the two of them. I stayed home with a friend."
Joaquin's arms tightened.
"My father had a pilot's license. He borrowed a friend's plane. The plane had just been through its annual maintenance check." I paused, swallowing the terrible knowledge that my parents had died because a maintenance person had been careless.
"Shit, you don't have to tell me all this," Joaquin said. "I get the picture."
No, I had to finish. The next part was important.
"My father turned the plane around," I said. "He tried to get back to the airport." I paused, my entire body and mind in agony. But it was important that he know my father had tried to save them.
