Page 20 of Spring Break Fling

“Are you guys ready?” Rachel asked.

“I say we extend our trip another week,” Tara said. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Some of us have to get back to work,” I reminded her.

Tara stuck out her tongue. “All work and no play makes you all very boring.”

“I’m ready,” I said and pulled my sunglasses from my purse.

“Just think, when we get home, we’re going to be freezing our asses off.” Maddie sighed.

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered. “I better get my jacket out. Planes are always so damn cold.”

We walked outside the hotel to wait for our Uber to take us to the airport. I moved to stand in the sun. I closed my eyes and smiled. I was going to miss the weather. Well, not the humidity. And I was a little bummed my brush with a really hot dude was over. It was over before it ever started. But that was how it was supposed to be. It was a Spring Break fling. My first and I was pretty certain my last. I didn’t regret a minute of it, but it was going to be impossible to forget him. It was unlikely I would find another man that lived up to the very high standard he set.

As the Uber pulled up and we loaded our suitcases, I couldn’t shake the image of Nikko’s face from my mind. All those hard edges were dangerous but that night I caught a glimmer of something softer. I was willing to bet that softer side was apparent when he thought no one was looking.

I climbed into the backseat and fixed my gaze on the passing scenery, trying to imprint the ocean and palm trees in my memory as a distraction.

Rachel nudged me, pulling me out of my reverie. “You good?”

“Yep, just thinking about what I need to do when I get home.”

The airport was wild. New arrivals were pouring in prepared to embark on their week of Spring Break fun. We navigated our way through the throngs of excited students and weary families. As we passed a group of young ladies laughing about their plans, a pang of jealousy shot through me. Their adventure was just beginning, while mine was closing.

An hour later, we were sitting in our seats.

We were barely off the runway when Tara decided to push the envelope, as always.

“Let’s see it,” she whispered dramatically, already peeling back the bandage on her arm.

“Tara!” I hissed. “Stop it.”

She was sitting beside me. Maddie and Rachel were seated directly across from us.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “It’s not like they’re going to turn the plane around and take me back to the tattoo parlor. Although that wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, right? You could see Mr. Hot Stuff.”

“If you get an infection at thirty-thousand feet, I’m not sure they’ll be able to turn that around either,” Maddie said from her seat across the aisle.

Tara rolled her eyes and pulled the bandage all the way off, revealing a dainty flower band around her upper arm. It was, admittedly, gorgeous. And didn’t look nearly as bad as I was expecting a fresh tattoo to look. Then again, she wasn’t as pale as I was. Nikko had warned me mine would look bad until my skin healed.

“Totally worth the risk,” Tara said. “I feel like such a bad ass. I think I might go back and get thorns on it. That would be even more bad ass.”

“It’s so pretty the way it is,” I said.

“Pretty isn’t the look I want. I want people to think I’m scary.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t need a tattoo for that.”

Rachel leaned in to admire it. “Okay, fine. I’m looking at mine too.”

“You guys!” I gasped. “No. You can’t. Did you not read the care instructions?”

“Me too,” Maddie said.

One by one, the bandages came off. Maddie’s apple looked 3D. It was very cool. Rachel showed off the scales on her inner wrist. They oohed and aahed over each other’s tattoos while I sat there, arms crossed, trying to ignore them.

“You’re not curious at all?” Rachel asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.