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“Nice to meet you, Melida.” He kisses her on the cheek. “Amaury told me you’re beautiful and he’s right.” Melida smiles and then she turns toward me. I grin while shrugging.
“I only invite him for his jet ski,” Amaury chimes in, chuckling.
Melida’s eyes dart to meet mine and she pushes her shoulders back. I can already tell she’s freaking out at having to ride with Eduardo.
“My brother owns the watersports place on Purdy Ave, we’ll get two from him before going out,” Eduardo says. Melida’s shoulders soften at his words.
“I’ve never ridden a jet ski. Will I know how to do it?” I ask.
Amaury shifts his eyes toward me and says, “Yes, it’s almost the same as your Vespa, except there is water.”
“I rode them on a trip to Puerto Rico. They’re wicked fun and easy to use,” Melida says.
“Does the cooler fit on the jet skis?” I ask.
“No, but we leave it in the truck and take the two small soft coolers with us. We store it under the seats,” Eduardo responds.
“And for lunch we’ll find Raw Bar 2 Go. It’s like a food trucken el aguaand they sell ceviche and other things,” Amaury says, his eyes meeting mine.
He knows me well, knows I always need to know about the food and where we’ll be eating. “You already know that was my next question.” I extend my arm out and he wraps me in his embrace.
“Sí, and I want to know everything about you.” His lips land on mine. Kissing him when he’s freshly shaven feels so different, soft and smooth skin luring me in and making me want more.
Amaury pulls into a lot on Purdy Ave. next to a park overlooking the water. Eduardo exits the Tahoe from the front seat and strides across the lot toward a small building with a window and starts talking to the man inside. Must be his brother.
“Chicas, I’m gonna put the jet skisen el agua. Why you no go with Eduardo. We need twosalvavidas,” he says, glancing at me.
“Life vests,” I add, glancing over to Melida.
“It’s times like this I wish my parents had taught us Spanish,” Melida says. Her parents are Puerto Ricans who were born and raised in the States, so they spoke English at home, and Melida and her siblings never learned Spanish.
She opens the door and I follow her out. “Is your man trying to set me up with his buddy?” she asks.
I shrug. “Don’t know. I didn’t know he was coming until I saw him this morning. You okay with him joining us?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t hurt that he’s kinda cute. Plus, he’s got an accent that makes me feel all outta sorts,” she adds, wiggling her eyebrows.
“He’s definitely easy on the eyes,” I add, grinning.
Eduardo is a couple of inches shorter than me with dark blond hair that sits at his shoulders. He has a sandy complexion, which complements his deep ocean blue eyes with a wide flat nose, and thin lips.
“He’s a nice guy, from what I know at least. I’ve only met him a few times but him and Amaury have been friends almost their whole lives,” I tell her.
“Well, I’m not looking to get involved but am definitely here to have fun.” She winks.
We cross the parking lot toward where Eduardo is talking to the man in the window. As we approach them, I notice the man is nearly identical to Eduardo except he’s about three inches shorter than him.
“My brother, Luis.” He gestures toward him and in Spanish Eduardo tells him who we are.
“Hola. Nice meeting you,” the brother responds.
“Nice to meet you,” both Melida and I say, in unison.
Minutes later we have life vests in hand and together with Eduardo are striding toward Amaury who’s already got the jet skis in the water and tied to a dock. The sun is already warming my skin and it’s only 10:00 a.m. I reach for the long sleeve shirt I brought to wear and put the eyewear retainer onto my sunglasses. After removing my shorts and tossing them into the truck, I help with unloading the soft coolers, and the other two life vests.
When Amaury returns from parking his Tahoe, we walk to the dock and Amaury begins explaining the jet ski function to me. Meanwhile, Melida is already vested up and putting her belongings onto her jet ski.
“Here is the key,” he says, grasping a coiled keychain that’s clipped and hanging from the life vest. “This is thepito,” he continues, grabbing a small red whistle between his fingers. “In case you fall, and no one is near you. This—” he points to the throttle on the right handlebar “—is how you go faster.”
