One Hot Summer

by Heidi McLaughlin

  My safety condom. The condom that was in my clutch. The condom that has been sitting in that clutch for three years. “I pulled that out?” I ask, squeezing at the back of my neck.

  “Not only did you pull this out of your purse, but you were jumping on the bed, waving it in the air, singing “Fly me to the Moon, Lincoln!” He replays, mocking me, in however I must have sounded like last night, and if he’s even remotely close to what I sounded like, I want to go bury myself six feet under the burning hot sand.

  “I take it I passed out following my song and dance?”

  Lincoln chuckles. “If only you were that easy,” he says, winking. “I told you 'no’ because you would regret it in the morning. You then replied with, ‘What happened to living in the moment?’ You used my words against me.”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t bring me back to Lovers Beach and just leave me there. I’m a total asshat.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re pretty much the cutest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on before.”

  “You’re a gentleman,” I tell him. “Thank you for being a good guy. I don’t find many like you in Boston.”

  “Anytime,” he says.

  We’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. I recover my chest with the sheets as Lincoln tends to the door, returning with a cart covered with plates of food.

  “Can you stomach some food?” he asks.

  “I’m starving.”

  We eat in silence for a few minutes, which gives me a breath to think. “Do women act like this a lot at the hotel?” Meaning, how many women do you sweep off their feet on a weekly basis here?

  He tries to laugh with a mouthful, and holds his hand in front of his lips, chewing and swallowing the bite of food. “Funny you should mention that. This isn’t the hotel for bachelorette trips. This is more of a couple's retreat hotel.” Leave it to Macy to send us three girls to a couple's retreat hotel. “So, to answer your question, no, I have not found many single girls on Lovers Beach, then coaxed them to the bar after dinner, or helped them out when they lost their hotel room.” The last part was a nip I deserved for asking the question.

  “So, I’m the first?”

  “You are, in fact, the first, Alexa.” Lincoln wraps his hands around his glass of juice and downs half the contents.

  Just as he places his glass back down, his phone rings from the long dresser on the opposite side of the room. Lincoln stands up, making another show of his lean, muscular body, and picks up the phone. “Hey,” he says. “I have her, and she’s safe, and no, I didn’t sleep with her, despite how much she begged me to.”

  I can hear the roar of laughter echoing from his phone. “Grace wants to know why I didn’t sleep with you?” he asks.

  “Grace!” I shout.

  “She says we have thirty minutes before we have to get ready to meet the hot concierge excursion guy in the lobby, so get busy.”

  “Oh my God,” I say, shaking my head with embarrassment.

  “Will you two be in the room until we have to leave? She will need to come by for a change of clothes. Oh, and I need your room number, because Miss Organized has no clue what room you’re in.” Lincoln listens to whatever Grace is saying to him, and he smiles in response. “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  “What did she just say?” I ask, needing to know what bug Grace just planted in Lincoln’s ear.

  “She said, you haven’t gotten laid in over a year, and to take care of that.”

  “What?” I shout. First, it’s not true. I hooked up with an old friend six months ago, and Grace knows about it. Second, she wouldn’t purposely embarrass me like that.

  “I’m kidding. She said she wouldn’t judge us if we hooked up though. Oh, and she said don’t use your safety condom because it expired a year ago.”

  I toss myself back into the pillow. “I have never been so mortified in my entire life,” I enunciate. “I think I might need a new word for embarrassment. This is that bad.”

  “You’re being dramatic. We’ve all had our moments. We live, learn, and fall for hot excursion guys.”

  I toss a pillow at Lincoln. More of his personality is poking through, and I like this side he kept hidden yesterday. He’s playful. “Why do you have to be the image of perfection? Like … this is just a tease. I can’t sleep with you, for real. That would make me … easy, or whatever, and there isn’t enough time to endure an appropriate length of time to know someone before making the move.”

  “What you say is all true. It sucks.”

  That’s it? He’s not going to argue that life is short and we should live in the moment? I was kind of setting him up to say all that so I don’t feel sleazy while thinking of a way to sleep with him. “Oh.”

  “It is,” he confirms. “Were you hoping for a different response?”

  I shrug. “Nope.” Yes. I was.

  Lincoln narrows his eyes at me and crosses the room, climbs onto the bed, then stops inches away. “No one is judging us, Alexa. You want something … say it. However, I recommend you spend the day with me first. Then, make your decision. How does that sound?”

  “What if I hate you after the excursion and we miss out on something that could have been amazing?”

  “Well, then it wasn’t meant to be,” he responds. “But, think of it this way … what if you fall in love with me today? You probably still won’t want to sleep with me because that’ll just make things even harder on Sunday.”

  “You’re right. Let’s get moving.” This sucks. I’m doing the right thing and letting this wave ride out, but I want to whine and pout until I get my way, regardless of the regret I might feel later.

  “One thing, though,” he adds in. “You can’t get mad at me if I make you want me even more, okay?”

  I cock my head to the side, hearing the challenge in his voice. “Two can play at this game, and you don’t know who you just started a battle against,” I tell him, smirking for good measure.

  8

  It’s like I’m doing the walk of shame, but without the real shame attached. It’s more like the walk of embarrassment.

  “So, you got lost last night?” Macy asks, tugging on one of my quickly knotted pig-tail braids. My hair has its own agenda with this heat.

  “I forgot my key and the room number,” I tell her, walking into our hotel room. Lincoln had to go check in at the concierge desk so I have a moment to collect my thoughts before we have to meet downstairs for our ATV excursion.

  “Sounds awfully convenient,” Grace says with a wink.

  “I slept in his bed, alone. Nothing happened, I can assure you.”

  “Interesting,” Macy adds in.

  “Knock it off,” I tell them, whipping through my suitcase to find appropriate clothes for today.

  I glance over my shoulder at the two of them, wondering what they’re wearing. It should surprise me to see Grace in a trendy romper, or Macy in cuffed khaki shorts and a waist-tied button white shirt.

  “You’re not going to be able to pee,” I tell Grace, “And that white shirt will probably be covered in mud by the time we get back.”

  They shoo me off and continue brightening up their faces with touches of makeup as they concentrate on their reflections in the mirror.

  I, on the other hand, am slipping on a pair of black running shorts, and a loose-fitting gray tank top with the slogan, “Girls play harder.” I don’t remember where I got this shirt, or why I have a shirt that says this, but it just means I couldn’t care less about what might happen to it today. As I’m straightening the shirt out over my chest, I recall the last conversation Lincoln and I had. He thinks I’m going to want him even more after this day is over. I dueled him to that challenge, of course, without a game-plan.

  With a quick glance in the tall wall-length mirror to the side of me, I realize my outfit won’t help me with this little exercise. Although practical for riding an ATV, not attractive to a man, or I would assume.

  I dig t
hrough my suitcase again, searching for my faded jean shorts that are torn a little too high in the rear. They won’t be comfortable, but they will help my plan. My plan without an outcome I can write home to Mom and Dad about.

  I don’t have a good shirt to go with this, so I take drastic measures and try to tear the bottom of my shirt. The material doesn’t give.

  “Aw, are you trying to make your shirt sexy,” Grace teases.

  “No,” I snap.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I just don’t want to be hot today,” I argue.

  “Oh, ripping that shirt … that would make you hot all right.”

  I close my eyes and toss my head back. “I have something that will cut that so you can tear it better,” Grace says. She jogs into the bathroom and returns with a tiny pair of scissors, meant to trim eyebrows. “Here.” Grace takes the material form my hand and makes a few snips.

  “Thank you,” I offer, sticking out my tongue.

  I tear the material in half so I can tie the ends about an inch above the waistline of my shorts. “Wow,” Macy says. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Look who's talking,” I retort. “You’re wearing a blouse.”

  “It’s a casual tank top.”

  “Still,” I tell her.

  “Plus, I’m not here to impress anyone,” she says, smirking for good measure.

  “I didn’t even know you still had a perfectly trimmed body,” Grace says. “You always cover up.”

  “Well, today, I’m uncovering, so there you go,” I tell her. I’ve never been one to flaunt. It’s not my style. I’d rather attract someone with whom I am than what I look like, but Lincoln has already seen a few sides of me, so I think it’s okay to play it up a bit.

  “Close your eyes,” Grace says, running to her open bag on the bed.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it,” she argues.

  I let out a little groan, trying my best to trust whatever she’s about to do, and I close my eyes. “Pucker,” she says.

  “No,” I tell her.

  “Pucker, Alexa, or I’ll squeeze your cheeks.”

  I roll my eyes, but she can’t see since my eyes are closed. I pucker loosely, and I feel a wand pant over my lips. “Just some clear gloss. It’ll make him look at your lips.” Grace isn’t aware of my intentions or the challenge I’m walking into, but it’s like she knows.

  “Will you stop worrying about me? This weekend is about you, and I will not be a selfish friend.”

  “This makes me happy, Alexa. I love seeing you happy. It’s enhancing my already amazing weekend. I promise you.”

  We gather our things to head out, and I strongly believe not one of us looks prepared to ride an ATV, but it is what it is. For some reason, the thought of other guests joining the excursion didn’t cross my mind. However, my head has been in the clouds for the last two days, too.

  There are two couples joining us, but by the looks of their interactions and lip-lock lust, I don’t think we’ll be conversing much.

  Lincoln changed his clothes at some point. He’s wearing a defined athletic tank top with shorts that enhance the definition of his ass. He’s in it to win.

  “I think we’re all here,” Lincoln announces, avoiding eye contact with me. “Our shuttle should be here, and we can head offsite to the ATV park.” Lincoln lifts his clipboard and scrolls the tip of his pencil down what looks to be a list. “Everyone wearing closed-toe shoes?” The guidelines were on the brochure, so the three of us are prepared, but one of the two other couples are both wearing sandals.

  “Oh, we didn’t bring anything other than sandals,” the woman says.

  Lincoln stretches his lips to the side, appearing to think about the situation. “I can get in trouble for not following protocol. The guidelines are meant for your safety. We have an on-site gift shot that sells athletic apparel and shoes if you want to take a quick look. We have about five minutes before we have to leave.”

  The previously kissing couple, share a look and nod their heads at the same time. “I think we’ll pass this time. Thank you, though,” the man says.

  “Anytime. If you check in with the front desk, they can remove the charge from your room.”

  Now, it’s just the three of us, and the one other couple. Taking a closer look at them now, they don’t seem too smitten to be here. I grouped them together with the two making out. These two might be on a make or break it trip, by the looks of it.

  The shuttle ride is quick, and we arrive at an established ATV park. Lincoln spent most of the ride explaining rules and how the ATVs work so we aren’t standing in the sun listening to the boring part of the excursion, or as he put it.

  Riding the ATVs doesn’t sound too challenging. I’m kind of excited. Macy looks like she might be churning over what we’re about to do, or it could be the tequila from last night coming back to bite her in the butt. Though, ATV riding is not a sport I would think Macy might be interested in trying out.

  Grace seems pumped to go, though, so that’s what matters.

  We’re all giving our own ATV, and our own lanes. There are some basic paths, and a few that have small jumps for when we feel comfortable. The person I am, already feels comfortable to try the jumps. However, I should baby my stomach a little longer too. The tequila is still wreaking havoc. Though, the breakfast of champions took the edge off.

  The jitters wear off quickly, and I can clearly see Grace and Macy are having the times of their lives in their lanes. I’m also loving this. I might need to get myself an ATV when we get back home. I’d just need to find a place to ride it.

  We’re about a mile out from the base in which we took off from, and Macy and Grace have just taken their u-turns to head back. I’m following in their dust, but my ATV is slowing down quickly. It’s dying. Crap.

  I remember Lincoln saying there is a radio behind the back seat if we need to call for help, so I take the key out of the ignition and lift the back panel, locating the radio. I flip the on/off switch, receiving static in return. I haven’t used one of these walkie-talkie things since I was a kid, but I know the hold down the side button when talking.

  “I have a dead ATV,” I say into the device.

  I release the button and wait for a response. “Copy, I’ll be right down.” I don’t know if it’s Lincoln’s voice or one of the men who work at the park, but someone is coming down to help me at least.

  It takes about five minutes before I see dust flying in the air behind another ATV driving toward me. I can’t tell who it is until the ATV stops a few feet in front of me and the dust settles. Lincoln to the rescue.

  “Hey, you, beautiful damsel in distress,” he jokes.

  I lock my hands on my hips and shake my head. “You’re funny,” I tell him.

  Lincoln tries a few things to get my ATV back up and running, but must determine it’s a lost cause when he slaps his hand onto the seat. “Damn thing always breaks down. Number twelve needs to be replaced.”

  “You told me to get on number twelve,” I tell him.

  “Well,” he says, smirking. “Maybe I was hoping you’d break down out here.”

  “You’re a little evil, aren’t you?” I ask him.

  Lincoln places his hand on his chest as his mouth falls ajar in dramatic fashion. “Me? Look at what you’re wearing to go ATV riding? Seriously?”

  “What?” I shrug. “They’re shorts and a tank top. Should I have worn a ball gown?”

  “Alexa,” he sighs. “You are killing me.”

  “Well, I’m not sorry,” I reply.

  Lincoln steals the few feet between us and loops his arm around the bare skin of my waist. “I was very well-behaved last night, you know. It doesn’t mean—”

  “I’m not making things hard?” I whisper.

  As if it was a command, I feel the pressure from his lower body press into me, proving he’s given up on controlling his feelings. “You’re making me regret turning you down last night,” he mutters befo
re touching his lips softly to mine. The heat between us is overwhelming, especially under the brutally hot sun. Lincoln lifts me up, allowing me to loop my legs around his waist. His lips press against my neck, and the sensation drives me wild. “We can’t do anything right here,” I remind him.

  “Who said we were doing anything anywhere?” he questions. “I thought you had control over this situation.”

  I’m not good at this game.

  Lincoln places me down on his ATV, releases me, and slips down in front of me. “You’re going to need to hold onto me. Are you comfortable with that?”

  “I can handle a hard-bumpy ride, don’t worry,” I tell him. I make sure to press my breasts against his back as his ATV roars to life. “You sure you’re close enough to me? I don’t want you to fall off.”

  I squeeze a little closer and place my chin onto his shoulder, breathing gently against his neck. “Damn, girl. I hope we don’t find something to crash into. Watch yourself.”

  9

  No one emptied the contents of their stomach, and I still have my clothes on. All in all, I would say the ATV excursion was a success. Except now, my desire to see more of Lincoln is worse than it was this morning.

  “All I want to do for the rest of the day is lay out by the pool,” Grace says. “Is that okay with you two?”

  The bouncing ride of the shuttle feels worse on my stomach than the ATV ride, but it looks like we’re taking back roads to the hotel, and the roads aren’t paved. It’s like sitting in the back of an old-school bus, kind of bumpy.

  “I think the pool sounds like a great idea,” I respond, trying my best not to glance over at Lincoln. I don’t want to see his expression or reaction. I don’t know when I’ll spend another minute with him, or even converse again. My heart is starting to feel pain, thinking about my fun coming to an end, and I don’t want to feel anything of the sort.

  Pain. It’s been two days. Something has got to be wrong with my brain right now.

  “We have snorkeling and scuba lessons at the pool today if you three are interested,” Lincoln follows.