by Geneva Lee
“You have something better going on for Christmas break?” she asked.
She had me there. Most of my plans for this break involved the television and a few books. I wasn’t even going to bother heading home to Oregon. My sister would be in Seattle, too busy working to take off the holidays, and my mom had a new boyfriend. It was clear from my conversations with her that they were still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship, which meant it would be absolutely sickening to be around them. Right now, romance was the last spectacle I needed to suffer, and with Brett going home to Indiana, I’d have space to think about things. I’d even promised Jillian she could drive my car down to California to ensure a quiet apartment over break. I was staying in Olympic Falls for the next four weeks and nothing Cassie could say was going to convince me otherwise.
“You have to come. I need to get the fuck out of here,” Cassie said, her words pitching up an octave to a full-blown whine.
“What about Texas?” I asked her. “Don’t you want to see your family?”
“My parents are taking my sisters to Nashville for Christmas this year.” Cassie planted her hands on her hips and shook her head with disgust. “Texas I can handle, but Christmas at the Grand Ole Opry might kill me in my current condition. You do know that every single country song is about breaking up with someone or falling in love. It would be torture. Plus, they already booked their trip. I’d mess everything up. But we could go somewhere.”
Cassie wasn’t as badass as she let on. She spent most holiday breaks at home with her family, and I suspected her hesitance to return to Texas this year didn’t actually hinge on Dolly Parton covers. I kept this thought to myself. “I really can’t go anywhere.”
“We aren’t going just anywhere.” Cassie’s refusal to accept reality was more annoying than endearing.
“Where are you going?” Jillian asked as she dropped a duffel bag on the living room floor. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she was rocking a soft, draping sweater. She looked too pulled together for the little bit of sleep we’d gotten last night.
“You look hot,” I said with a fair amount of envy. “Have you discovered some type of magic potion that reduces your need for sleep?”
“Hours and hours of amazing sex,” she said with a wink, but the smile immediately slid from her face. “Oh my god, Cassie. I’m sorry. That…”
“Don’t apologize for nailing a good guy,” Cassie said, waving off Jillian’s faux pas.
“It was still a shitty thing to brag about.” Jillian wrapped an arm around Cassie’s waist and pulled her close. “Forgive me for being a jerk?”
“Absolutely.” Cassie’s head fell against Jillian’s but a second later she turned her attention back to me. “Me and Jess are going to get out of Olympic Falls.”
“That’s an excellent idea! You can come to California.” Jillian did an amazing job of making this sound like a tempting offer, but both Cassie and I knew that she was dreading returning home for the holidays, even with her Scottish hottie by her side.
“I don’t think I could put up with Tara’s bullshit right now,” Cassie said.
“Fair enough. I can’t deal with my mother’s bullshit daily.” Jillian plopped onto a barstool. She wasn’t going to pressure anyone to spend the holidays with her family. “Then where are you going?”
We both answered at the same time.
“Mexico.”
“Nowhere.”
“We aren’t going to Mexico!” I insisted. I didn’t want to burst Cassie’s bubble, but there was no way that I could afford Mexico nor did I really feel like traveling. All I wanted was some time in an empty apartment—alone.
“I’ll be gone for at least a week. Unless I have to escape, but Liam says we’re staying through Christmas,” Jillian said. “You could stay in my room while I’m gone.”
I made a mental note to remind Jillian to discuss it with me before she volunteered our apartment as a hotel. Having Cassie here would put a kink in my plans, but if she needed to crash here, I’d live.
“And listen to Brett and Jess make sweet love all break?” Cassie retorted. “I don’t think so.”
“Brett’s going home for break,” I said.
Jillian’s eyes narrowed as she studied my face. “You don’t sound all that broken up about it.”
I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to admit that right now. The last thing I needed to do was rub Brett's proposal in Cassie's face. Besides, it wasn’t like we were usually attached at the hip. “He’s seeing his family. That’s a healthy thing for him.”
“And he’s not taking you?” Cassie asked. “Trevor never introduced me to his family. I should have known that something was”—
“I don’t want to go to Indiana with him,” I cut her off. “This semester was difficult, and I’m not caught up on any of my shows.”
“Your shows?” Jillian repeated, not bothering to hide her laughter. “Are you a sixty-year-old woman? Gonna do some Sudoku and start adopting cats?”
I swatted her with my free hand. “Don’t be a bitch.”
“Don’t be a sixty-year-old woman!” Jillian laughed again and bounded back into her room to finish packing.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out in time to see a text message from Brett flash across the screen.
BRETT: Change of plans. I’m staying with you over break. I can’t go home until we’ve talked.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tried to look normal. Brett not going home was a bad thing. If he stuck around, he’d keep bringing up marriage until he wore me down. I wasn’t going to say yes just to get him to shut up. But I knew what would happen if I told him I didn’t want him to stay.
My relationship was doomed. That was becoming clearer with each minute that passed. It wasn’t fair to let him think there was a chance. But breaking up with him right before Christmas? That was a bitch move. Suddenly, it felt like all the air in the apartment had evaporated and I couldn’t breathe. Even staying in Washington felt impossible.
“Are you okay?” Cassie asked, eying me with suspicion.
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound like I was telling the truth. The fact was that I was far from okay. “I just decided to go to Mexico with you.”
Chapter Four
My sister accompanied me to the security checkpoint at SeaTac, rattling off a list of items I needed to be sure I had with me: my passport, the number to the US embassy, photocopies of all identification, sunscreen. I had my passport and sunscreen.
“I’m fine,” I assured her, pausing near the entry to the queue.
“Don’t drink the water. Don’t talk to strange men.” Lillian grabbed my shoulders and looked fiercely into my eyes. “And don’t get pregnant.”
She followed it up with a hug, which was pretty awkward given that she’s half a foot taller than me—and because I was caught somewhere between hysterical laughter and total shock. Don’t get pregnant? That was her advice? Lillian didn’t talk about sex. She was a twenty-eight-year-old attorney who slept, ate, and drank at the office. As far as I knew, she’d never had sex before. She didn’t have the time. Not that I was much better. Our mom had conditioned us to be married to our work. It was the price of being raised by a single parent who prized independence over relationships. Mom had only started dating again when both of her daughters had left the nest.
My decision to go to Mexico meant bailing on Lillian for Christmas—the one day she left the office. We’d exchanged presents this morning over Starbucks and then she’d driven me to the airport. I should have known that I’d be in for a lecture.
“‘Kay, Lil,” I promised with a straight face. “I won’t get knocked up.”
Lillian looked relieved, which only made it funnier. Somehow I managed not to crack up. The laughter started as soon as the guard checked my passport, and then I couldn’t stop. It was probably why I wound up in a little back room getting additional security screening.
TSA agents don’t have much of a
sense of humor.
My sister didn’t have to worry though. The gentle butt-cupping of the security agent was likely to be the most action I'd see for the next seven days. I was not going to Puerto Vallarta to get laid. Party girl? Not me. I had MCATS to study for, and Cassie promised that studying for “boring, med tests” on the beach would be more productive because of all the Vitamin D in the sunlight.
I didn’t bother reminding her that I was studying to be a doctor and that there was no scientific proof to back that up. People were always trying to use pseudo-scientific claims to talk me into things. Once Jillian had tried to convince me that if you studied drunk and then took the test drunk, you would remember all the right answers—and get to be drunk. Ask me how that worked out for her.
Cassie’s claims that sunshine would help me retain information on chemical compounds or homozygous-dominant genotypes were dubious. It would help me escape Brett though. He’d taken the trip to Mexico poorly and demanded an answer. I gave him one he didn't like.
Plus, Olympic Falls was covered in the gray, wet blanket of winter.
So now I was here, avoiding reason number two for running off to Mexico, a.k.a. Brett, and searching the departure gate for a broken-hearted Cassie. A sweep of the waiting area turned up nothing, so I started scouting the nearby restaurants. I found her two margaritas down at the Mile High Club.
“You should slow down,” I warned her, parking my carry-on within eyesight. I sank down on the wobbly barstool next to her and braced myself against the slick bar.
“It’s a four-hour flight,” she said, her drawl oozing tequila. Booze always brought out the Texan in her. “I’ll sleep like a baby.”
“A drunk baby,” I said with a snort.
“Imagine how peaceful that would be,” she argued.
The bartender appeared and dropped a napkin in front of me. “Can I get you something?”
“Two waters and the check,” I said. Beside me, Cassie pouted. Her pout was a work of art, but I’d grown immune to it after three years at Olympic State. As soon as she realized it wasn’t going to work, she switched tactics.
“Jess, this is no way to start your vacation.”
“I just thought we could save the alcohol poisoning for the beach,” I said dryly.
“Come on,” she pleaded. “I just deleted his phone number. That deserves a drink.”
I had to admit that was major, especially for Cassie who treated her iPhone like a modern Rolodex. “Good for you.”
“You doing okay?” she asked, suddenly serious. “How did it go last night with Brett?”
Despite my attempts to shield her from my own romantic troubles, I’d had to tell her that I was going to meet him last night. She’d been like a barnacle since the night she found Trevor with another girl. Bringing her along would have been a bad idea, but it hadn’t even mattered. “We broke up.”
Cassie's mouth fell open, but she recovered immediately and threw her arms around me.
I accepted it awkwardly. I couldn't tell Cassie why I'd broken up with him. She was too raw to hear about his marriage proposal.
“Fuck them.” Cassie balled up her fist and held it out for me. I knocked mine against hers. Our own gesture of girl power. I had to hand it to her. She was holding together pretty well. Of course, that could also be the tequila.
“So his phone number is gone. What next? Ding his Uber rating? Send him glitter in the mail?”
She screwed up her face and shook her head. “I’m not wasting any more time on him, but I do need a new screensaver.”
She pulled out her iPhone and held it out in front of us as I leaned in for the obligatory selfie. A few seconds later she flashed the screen at me. Beside her olive skin and raven hair, I looked more pale and blonde than ever.
“We’re going to get you some goddamn sun,” she said with a sigh.
I wasn't the type that tanned, and Cassie knew it. “Good, I’ll look like a lobster.”
“I’ll look like caramel,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“I’m not sure how I feel about us both being edible.”
Two waters appeared before us without a word from the bartender and I threw down my AmEx on the counter as Cassie lifted her glass and clinked it against mine. “To sand, tequila, and bad decisions in the making.”
“Famous last words,” I muttered.
Cassie gulped down half her glass before she froze in place, her attention pinned on something behind me. “Is that Markson?”
Her timing was impeccable, because I was taking a sip of water, which wound up spluttered across my chin and chest. She was right. Roman Markson, communications prof and undeniable hottie, was here. At the airport. In the Mile High Club. Right now. I couldn't quite ignore the burst of excitement that jolted through me and landed in my treasure chest.
“If he didn’t see you before,” she continued with a giggle, “he has now.”
Fantastic. Of all the people to run into on vacation—a professor—and, of course, it happened while it looked like I was having a one girl wet T-shirt contest. I wiped at the drops on my top and tried to look anywhere but at him.
That proved impossible though, because Roman was clearly on vacation as well and looking more like a Hollister ad than a communications instructor. Right down to the tribal tattoo twisting around his bicep. It was the first time I’d ever seen it. Probably, because at school, he tried to cover up his looks with his professor uniform: button down, blazer or sweater vest, laced up oxfords. Today he wore a thin, fitted T-shirt and jeans that displayed his impressively muscular frame and that mysterious tattoo. This outfit only blurred the all-too-important teacher-student line in new and interesting ways. Plus, his five o'clock shadow was more pronounced than normal and he wasn't trying to tame his silky, black hair. He didn’t look like my teacher. He didn’t look like anyone’s teacher. He looked like God’s gift to women everywhere.
“Jessica!” Roman called my name with surprise as he approached us.
“Ro—Professor Markson,” I corrected myself immediately while a litany of curse words bounced around in my head. He’d already caught me staring at him. I didn’t need to embarrass myself even further by acting like we were on a first name basis. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“I’m not dressed for class.”
That was a perfectly rational excuse and I nodded emphatically as though it was the reason I’d pretended not to recognize him.
It so was not.
I’d only seen Roman outside of class on a handful of occasions. Not that I was meeting up with him or anything. We just bumped into each other every once in a while. I didn’t mind those chance encounters. But they’d been nothing like this.
“Vacationing?” Cassie asked, finally coming to my rescue.
“Off for the holidays. And you girls? Getting into trouble?” He winked at me, and my stomach flipped over.
“If I can help it,” Cassie promised him.
“Can I buy you two a drink?” he asked, placing his bag on the stool next to mine.
I tried to look casual and failed miserably as heat rose to my cheeks. “We’ve moved on to water. It’s best to stay hydrated on long flights.”
Oh my god, was I giving him health advice? I sounded like the information video they played on the plane prior to take-off.
“Good tip.” Roman shifted on his heels and glanced at his phone. “I hate how early you have to be here for international flights.”
“Going somewhere exotic?” Cassie twirled her stir stick before popping it into her mouth. Was she flirting with him? I couldn’t exactly blame her, but I envied how easily it came to her. She could make even a simple question sound sexy while I sounded like a nut-job.
“Puerto Vallarta,” he said without skipping a beat.
Cassie’s elbow found my rib cage in an unfortunate twist since his answer had knocked the wind out of me. “No fucking way! We’re headed there, too. Planning to hit the bars?”
“His family liv
es in Puerto Vallarta,” I butted in before I could think.
“I’m surprised you remember that.” Roman’s gaze searched my face, his expression entirely unreadable.
Crap. That sounded totally stalker-y. I just remembered things, especially things about Roman. Not that I should share that with him unless I wanted a restraining order taken out against me.
“She has a good memory,” Cassie said nonchalantly. “So you’re going to see your mom and dad?”
“My grandmother,” he said. “Most of the family has moved away. I’m actually the closest person she has left. The rest of us are scattered all over the globe. My sister’s in Spain.”
“It’s really nice of you to go see her,” I said in a quiet voice.
“She spoils me,” he admitted, “and the beach isn’t bad either. Do you like the water?” He turned his warm eyes on me.
I opened my mouth to answer, but Cassie jumped in. “She loves it. Maybe you could take her swimming.”
I hated the water, and I didn’t swim. Cassie knew that, and she was clearly up to something. And by something, I suspected she wanted me to hook up with our ex-prof.
“I’d like that,” Roman said. “It’s always nice to have someone to share the beach with.”
His chocolate brown eyes smoldered into mine, and I forgot to breathe. If anyone could talk me into drowning, it would be him. Just the thought of him in shorts, wading out into the waves with his shirt off, made my thighs clench together.
“I need to use the bathroom before we board,” I said, coming up with the first convenient excuse I could think of. “Back in a sec.”
Cassie nodded and returned to her conversation with Roman. I strode away, contemplating the strange turn in events. I knew Cassie was trying to play matchmaker, but was it my imagination or was Roman flirting with me? He’d asked me to go swimming. Hadn’t he? I thought of his casual comment about sharing the beach with someone. With me. Maybe he was just being friendly, but something in his eyes said he wasn’t. My body had reacted to it with a palpable desire I hadn’t felt before. It was why I’d fled to the bathroom.
