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I looked up at her and through foggy vision I saw her standing there in her sports bra and tight jogging pants, one hand on her hip, her toothbrush dangling from her mouth.
She looked like she’d spent the night soaking in a warm bath before winding down with a chick flick on TV. Not like she’d been swallowing hard shots all night and then been bent over doggy style in the bed right next to me.
How is she possible? She’s like the Terminator.
“In the mood for a mimosa?” she asked.
“Fuck…you…” I said before grabbing my own hair, holding it back, and spewing whatever was left into the porcelain bowl.
I didn’t budge for a long time. I slept through horrible nightmares and threw up some more. I drank A LOT of bottled water. I knew I needed to hydrate. My muscles ached and my mouth was made of cotton.
I’m never drinking again.
I said it and I meant it. I’d formed a plan in my mind, one that had everything to do with sleeping on the beach and drinking water.
Lounging by the pool and drinking water.
Watching late night TV and drinking water.
Drinking water and drinking water.
***
Ben didn’t seem to care what we did on vacation as long as he was away from home and could check out the hotties by the pool. He was pretty hung over too and seemed just as amazed at Jill’s lack of pain and torture as I was.
Jill and Ben hit the pool and stayed in it for well over an hour. The last thing I wanted was to feel the rocking of the waves or the splashing of my friends.
As they played in the water, I lay there with my sunglasses on, feeling the blazing sun beating down against my pale(ish) skin. That’s when I heard the sweetest voice with the hottest accent ever.
“Choo should drink this,” he said.
I looked up to see a dark silhouette, the sun behind him blotching out all his features. He was a shadow in a teal polo.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m flattered, really, but I’m a recovering alcoholic.”
“Ma’am, thrust me. I been there. And choo should drink dis.”
I couldn’t even see this guy, but I was entranced by his Mexican accent. It was so awesome. I wanted to hear him say “choo” just a few more times. “Choo should come back to my place.” Or, “Choo should just leave chor clothes on da pile der on da floor.”
I sat up on my elbows and held my hand up to block the sun that was stretching out in front of him and blasting me right in the eyes. He squatted down close to me and I finally saw my visitor’s features.
His voice matched his face perfectly. He was tan, with honey-brown eyes, black hair gelled back and parted in the middle. He wore the hotel’s uniform shirt, which fit him tight and showcased his bulging pecs.
Now this is what the Cancun conquest is all about.
I lifted my sunglasses and then let them fall, remembering my eyes were probably as bloodshot as could be and nobody would find that attractive.
Wow, this guy was gorgeous.
He was all man and, when he smiled, something about the way his lips parted and his eyes wrinkled at their corners made him look so genuine.
His grin was almost little kid like but I mean a little boy before he learns to be devilish and sly. It was an honest to goodness smile. And it melted my heart. I didn’t know anything about this guy but I wanted to.
“Is this some kind of hangover cure?” I asked.
“Ches,” he replied.
Aww, can’t pronounce his Ys. That’s so fucking adorable. I just want to take him in my arms and hug him.
