“I did. I’m just enjoying it all,” I reply instead, because I can’t tell this man how not only did I sleep great, but when I opened my eyes to the sight of him half naked, his back to me, small droplets of water falling down his back as he shook his hair, I wanted to do very naughty things to him. Wanting my best friend physically, at a molecular level is nothing new, but this level of want?Fuck.
“Oye, Mateo. Esa novia tuya se va a quemar si no le pones protector solar en la espalda.” He turns around to see whatever it was his cousin said in Spanish while he takes whatever bottle it seems like he’s being offered.
“What?” I ask.
“He said you’ll get sunburned if I don’t put some sunblock on, and he’s right. Take this off.”
“Take what off?”
“This fishnet thing you have around your body,” headds, sliding his finger over the edge of my cover up and lifting slightly.
“Excuse me, sir, this is a fashion piece. It’s stylish.” I remove it swiftly, dropping it on the chair and opening my hand so he can drop the bottle on it.
“Let me,” he whispers, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and his eyes holding mine. “Turn around.”
I turn, holding in a breath, bracing for when this man lays his hands on me. The minute they come into contact with my skin, it’s like the world ceases to exist. The Earth is not spinning anymore. We’re not on this boat, and the waves of the ocean are definitely not crashing against it. There’s no music. There’s nobody else here. Nothing else matters but his hands on my back caressing gently as he applies sunblock starting in the center and slowly spreading out.
Groggy sounds leave his lips. No, not sounds—words. “Relax for me, Daze.”
How am I supposed to relax when his hands are on me and he sounds like that? How am I supposed to relax when the act feels so real? I’m so glad this man has not tried to kiss me, because that would do it. That would be the line, I think. The line there’s no going back from.
“Alright, lovebirds, let’s go!” Livie shouts from somewhere far, snapping the moment in half. Oh, we’ve made it.
The descriptions and the pictures online did not do this place justice. I thought the sand was white in Romana, where the resort is, but this, this is surreal. The contrast between the almost translucent sand with the turquoise see-through water is breathtaking. The palm trees in the distance with small wooden houses showing artisan products. Oh, markets, they’re little markets, not houses. The people welcoming us into the island smile and what seemslike merengue plays in the background. So many people playing instruments and dancing in the distance while one by one others from the catamaran get off.
Mateo rushes to the front and offers his hand to every single person who’s trying to get off, side by side with Alex. These two mountain-tall men offering smiles and aid to everyone who takes it is endearing… and well, hot.
This is the main issue with my unspoken crush with Mateo. It’s not only that he knows me almost better than I know myself—it’s that he’s also a good human. When most people would do things for show and recognition, he does things like this silently without most people noticing. He’s always been like that. Even when he was a hormonal preteen, he always put others first. It sometimes has led him to put himself last, which isn’t great for him. Lots of his previous girlfriends had this issue too. It was all about them, them, them, because Mateo, the ultimate book boyfriend he is, would give and give. But relationships are not meant to be like that. Relationships are almost like a dance—effortlessly in sync through the upbeats and the slow tempos. It requires knowing that no matter who’s leading, they’re in it together. The only way to achieve that is through practice, communication, and trust. But it’s also a give and take by way of a connection of harmonies, letting them sink into the body, moving them together.
Most of his past girlfriends were nothing like these. They were more like peg dolls with arms and a little and loud voice screaming,carry me, no matter how much it takes from you.
“Daze, you’re the last one!” Mateo shouts from the edge, startling me again from my thoughts. If aloof was a person, it would be me on this trip. What the fuck is wrong with me? I grab my bag and offer my hand; instead, heraises his and holds me by the waist, carrying me down effortlessly.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing that!”
“You could never hurt me. These—” he taps on his forearms, “were made just to pick you up.”
It’s when he says shit like this that I get all in my head about the what ifs or the maybes. It’s when he says things like this or looks at me the way he is right now that I want to be brave and tell him we can still keep our friendship even if we give us a try. There’s something about the way I could love him. I know would be good for him. He deserves to be put first and celebrated beyond what he can do for someone, and I…think I can do that. But then I remember how I’m not his type, so I play it off as him saying something silly, as I always do, because the alternative is too terrifying.
Damn, I’m all in my head about shit again.
We walk in silence toward the beach and his family. The closer we get, the louder the music gets, the more vibrant the place seems, the more I want to just bask in this moment. The fishnet thing, as Mateo called it, is coming off my body, STAT, and I want to just swim, dance, and eat whatever food they’re cooking here. I want to try my darndest to either muster the courage to tell Mateo I love him like more than a friend or stop daydreaming about it.
We place our bags onto a chair. Mateo takes his shirt off, and holy shit, the damn body…again. I won’t ever get tired of it. It’s dizzying and exciting, every time. Every. Single. Time.
“Ready to swim?” he asks with his million dollar smile, and when I nod, he does the one thing I wasn’t expecting. Suddenly, his head is by my hip, his arms hugging my thick thighs, and in two seconds flat, I’m upside down and over his shoulder.
“Mateo, what the hell?”
He chuckles. “Let me show you real quick how little I’m worried about youhurting me.” His voice mimics mine on the last two words as he jogs toward the water without a care in the world.
“Put me down!”
“I will, in the water, head first. No issues with your hair getting wet, right?” He won’t stop giggling like a toddler, like this is the funniest thing he has ever done. I’ve never had an issue with getting my hair wet, especially considering it’s so damn straight no matter what I do. What’s a little salt water gonna do to it?
The water splashes his legs, and warm droplets hit my face as he runs into the water waist deep and continues deeper. The bouncing of my body and all my rolls jiggling under his hand seem not to faze him in the slightest, and I both want to kiss him and punch him for this.
“Put me—” The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m submerged with strong arms sliding up my ass and landing on my back. We emerge, me breathless and coughing and him smiling while he holds me flushed to him. He brushes the hair off my face before cupping it with his hand. My breathing settles, and I’m completely in a daze of warm, salty water and him.
