Sex On The Beach. Delphine Dryden
it out loud made it seem even longer. Hopelessly so. “I have run through way too many batteries. Jeremy may have been an asshole, but he’s a tough act to follow.”
Julie slipped into a horrified silence, then shrugged sheepishly before she finally responded. “You should definitely get up to some vacation naughtiness, then.”
It was dumb, because she knew there was nothing between Julie and Alan, but Amanda was still loath to get into too much detail about her intended naughtiness. “I plan to. I mean, I already have kind of a specific plan. Probably a really bad one, if history tells me anything, but at least it’s something. You should find somebody, too, though.”
“I’ll think about it. Right now I’m mostly thinking about getting my bikini on and finding a fancy umbrella drink before dinner. You in?”
She’d been looking forward to her first fancy umbrella drink since shortly after she’d told Julie she’d love to come on the trip. And she was looking forward to the alcohol-induced bravery even more. “Julie, honey, I’ve never been so in.”
At five foot two and no bigger around than she had been in middle school, Amanda was a total lightweight. One surprisingly strong fancy drink in, and she floated through dinner on a cloud of blissful flirtation. She was almost through with the second rum-laced concoction by the time dessert rolled around, and the food had slowed things down enough that she started to wonder if she was giggling a little too much. Leaning a little too close. Being really obvious about hanging on Alan’s every word, even the ones that were probably sort of boring.
“So I told him it was a QA issue, and we weren’t going to call it ready for release until after we’d had a chance to respond to the report. No matter what marketing wanted us to do.”
“Wow. I had no idea software development involved so much drama. So who won, you or the marketing people?”
Alan looked at her, eyebrows lifted. “Hey, I know it’s not as exciting as being a librarian, but...”
“No, I’m interested.” She felt him slipping away, and a mild panic overtook her. “It sounds like one of those political-intrigue shows. Like maybe somebody was about to murder somebody with a keyboard then take over the company for evil, or...something.”
“It’s cool, I know it’s not that thrilling if you’re not one of the people involved. Anyway, I shouldn’t be talking shop. Sorry about that. Sorry, Jules.”
Amanda had committed an act of accidental sarcasm, apparently. It was hardly the first time. She’d always sucked at flirting because she could never find the right balance. Always too self-conscious to just have fun with it, and the sarcastic voice was her default when she was nervous. Tonight was no different, but the liquor helped her ignore that and go full steam ahead. Never mind that in her experience she was almost always the Titanic in this scenario. Jeremy was the only one who’d ever made this easy for her.
They’d nearly finished dessert by the time she worked up the nerve for another attempt. Sliding her foot out of her flip-flop, she edged it forward under cover of the table until her toes encountered something firm, warm...another foot. Bingo.
Flush with success, she didn’t grasp the significance of the puzzled expression on Julie’s face, and only realized her mistake when her friend jerked her feet up, clutching her knees to her chest and peering sideways under the table.
“I think something just crawled over my foot!”
Alan ducked under to look, too. “I don’t see anything. Was it a bug or something?”
“I don’t know. Not a bug, something bigger. Gah!”
People at the neighboring tables were looking their way, a general groundswell of consternation beginning to surge from the epicenter that was Amanda’s hotly blushing face.
“No, Jules. No, that was...uh, that was me. Sorry. Sorry, everyone.”
The crowd’s attention slipped away, but Julie’s was suddenly focused on Amanda.
“The fuck?”
“I was...stretching?” No effect. “Just, you know, making fists with my toes. Like a reflexology thing. Trying to relax. Still kind of have a headache.” If she threw enough options out there, one of them was bound to help eventually. Apparently it was the headache bit.
“Oh, honey. Why didn’t you tell me? I thought it went away hours ago. And here we were eating seafood in front of you.”
Which would have been a problem, when the headache was still in full force. Now that it was just slinking around in the background, food and smells were no longer the enemy. “I’m fine. Really. It’s much better than it was. Sorry I startled you.” By accidentally playing footsie with you instead of Alan. God, what has my life become?
“You know the best place to make toe-fists?” Alan asked. “The beach. And fortunately for you...voila!” He gestured to his right, toward the expanse of sand and ocean next to the open-air restaurant. And then he smiled in a quite charming way, reminding Amanda just how cute he was.
Once the bill was settled, Julie and Alan dragged her out to the beach, the three amigos walking with linked arms, kicking up sand, laughing too loud. Alan’s body was warm against her shoulder, his T-shirt wicking away the light sheen of humidity on her skin. He was slimmer than her taste, but not in a scrawny way. He had a nice laugh and beautiful eyes. That charming smile. There were fruity umbrella drinks, moonlight on the water, the sand between their toes and the scent of exotic flowers in the air. There was a lot of romantic material handy, basically, and she could work with it. She would work with it.
Then it happened again. A random stranger by the water’s edge turned toward them and, even in the moonlight, Amanda thought she saw Jeremy’s face. Was she doomed to see him everywhere she went, even when she knew he was thousands of miles away? Even when she was finally, possibly, just maybe, about to get naked with somebody for the first time in almost a year?
Fuck.
The stranger stopped in his tracks, mouth falling open in surprise for a moment before he snapped it shut. He started to cross his arms over his chest, then stopped himself and put his hands in his pockets instead.
He didn’t just look like Jeremy. He was Jeremy. Here. In Hawaii. On her vacation.
The world shifted under her feet, the surprise and the alcohol combining to knock her awry. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
“Oh my God! He’s the mystery jogger!” Julie and Alan had stopped beside her, and now Julie’s words brought Amanda back to reality.
Alan sucked in a breath, a reverse hiss of awkwardness. “Whoa. This can’t be a coincidence.”
Amanda stepped away from him, feeling a chilly draft against the side of her body that he’d been keeping warm. She was suddenly disgusted with herself, with the idea that she’d been planning to use him for sex. With her own desperation, because one look at Jeremy was enough to prove that she wasn’t over him. Not even close. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
Jeremy waved, clearly not willing to cross the final distance over the sand. Maybe he just didn’t want to encounter her friends. He had probably been planning to approach her when she was alone, maybe to send a note or something. It was clear he hadn’t expected to see her there on the beach at that particular moment.
Damn, he looked good. She’d never seen him with a buzz cut before, and was surprised by how well it flattered him, gave him an almost military edge. Although that might have also been the muscles, which were also new and a surprise. Jesus, what were they feeding them in Seattle? How was she ever going to resist that? She’d had a hard enough time thinking straight around the old Jeremy, the one who was starting to