Schuyler"I'm sorry; it's been bugging me." I interrupt their teasing and motion in Dallas's direction to the guys flanking her. "I know your names are Rich and Garret, but I don't know which of you is which."Laughter fills the air. My diversion works. In my periphery, I notice Calvin looking down, a smirk upon his face.The blonde stands and extends his hand to me, his blue eyes meeting mine. "I'm Rich; I'm taller and better looking than Garret.""Dude, you're the same height," Joe jeers from across the group."You'll have to excuse Rich; his golden locks are an attempt to make up for his deficit in the brains department. I'm Garret." The man to Dallas’s left stands, offering me his hand.Dallas can't peel her eyes from him which leads me to believe she's choosing him over Rich. It's for the best. Two blondes would be much too perfect together."Rich-blonde, Garret-brains," I chant repeatedly after shaking Garret’s hand."Hey! I'm more than just my brains," Garret protests, pouting a
SchuylerAs morning light filters through the open curtains, I roll away from it hoping to catch some more sleep. As my left cheek hits the pillow, pain registers in my brain, and my eyes open wide. I sit up. My fingertips find my cheek swollen and warm. I slide from the bed, padding my way to the bathroom down the hall. I note Dallas’s door is no longer open; I assume she made it home.My eyes squint at the bright vanity lights. Leaning toward the mirror, I instantly notice my swollen cheek is bright red. The heat and redness concern me. Wanting another opinion, I knock on Dallas’s door.“What?” she moans.“Dallas, something’s wrong. I need your help.” I try to keep the concern I’m feeling hidden until I get her opinion.At my words, I hear footsteps on the tile floor, then the door flies open.“Shit Schuyler! What did you do?” Dallas asks as she turns my chin for a better look.“I woke up this way,” I answer.She guides me into the bathroom for further examination under the lights.“
SchuylerStepping from my shower, I wrap my hair in a small towel on top of my head and secure another towel under my arms. I’m wiping the moisture from the large vanity mirror with a spare cloth when I hear a knock on the door.“Schuyler, your mother is on the phone,” Calvin calls through the closed door.“Come in,” I call back to him. “Can you put it on speaker on the counter for me?”He complies then leans against the open doorway.“Hi, Mom,” I greet, tightening the towel covering my chest.“Calvin seems like a perfect gentleman,” my mother swoons, unaware he can hear her.As a red blush graces his cheeks, I decide to not inform her she is on speakerphone. Knowing my mother, she’ll have much to say or, better yet, ask about him.“Dallas shared all the details this morning,” Mom continues. “I’m just calling to see what the diagnosis was.”“The doctor believes it’s a bug bite that I’m having an allergic reaction to,” I share, acutely aware that Calvin’s eyes haven’t left my towel-cove
Schuyler“I’m sorry I answered your phone,” Calvin whispers into my ear. “I should have carried it over to you.”I want to let him know I’m not upset with him; I want to apologize for my ass of a brother, but if I speak, I might lose my paper-thin hold on my control. I nod slightly instead. My cheek rubs against his hard, bare pectoral. I feel his racing heartbeat. His heat soothes me. I tighten my arms around his waist, nuzzling my face against his skin.Calvin slides one hand into my hair, holding me tight to him, while his other lightly caresses my back. An alarm bell in my head warns me this is too intimate. It feels good, and right now, I need this. I’ll worry about the signals I might be sending him later.“Are you okay?” Calvin murmurs. “I mean, I know you’re physically okay, but...”I pull in a deep breath. His musky scent mingled with the outdoors nearly distracts me. I blink a few times, clearing the fog he created. I place my hands upon his chest and push back, looking up in
Calvin“What are you looking at?” Schuyler asks, pointing to my phone as we enter her bungalow.“Promise you won’t get mad?” I prompt, hiding my screen from her view.“I’ll try to keep an open mind,” she states, raising her brow.“I created an Instagram account for--” I point to her still swollen cheek. “I posted the pictures I took of ‘Mo.’ The guys added some comments, and believe it or not, @MoDoesMexico now has over 200 followers.”“No way. My bug bite has 200 followers?” She smiles at me before glancing at the feed on my phone. “I should be mad that you created this account.” She gives me a small glare, but it’s half-hearted. She scrolls to the top of the feed, looks at my posted photos in order and all the comments. “How did you guys come up with all of this? You’re creative––you should write fiction or something; you have a genuine talent.”I shake my head. “It all sparked from when I referred to your bite as ‘Mo.’ After that, we fed off each other’s comments. It’s crazy, right?
CalvinThe next day, as we approach the volleyball court, I wonder why Schuyler told us to go ahead without her. She claimed she wanted to finish her current chapter. Now that I think about it, she refrained from joining us in the pool this morning, too. She contentedly read on her lounger, remaining distant.With sides chosen, we volley the ball to warm up. As I monitor the location of the white ball hurling from side to side, I also anxiously watch for Schuyler’s arrival. Something’s up, it bothers her, and I want to help.To my relief, she joins us as we prepare to start the match. Schuyler quickly removes her cover-up and takes an empty spot in the front row. The serve is up, and the match begins.Our team plays with the same enthusiasm as we did last time. We bump, set, and block while we communicate with each other. I admire Schuyler’s long, lean-muscled body in her tiny, navy boy shorts and matching sports bra. She’s distracting. I struggle to follow the ball with her beauty and
CalvinMy eyes open in the dark room. It takes a moment for me to remember I’m napping in Schuyler’s room. Instantly, I’m acutely aware of her slender arm drapes across my bare chest and her long legs twine with mine. I force my breaths to remain steady so as not to wake her. The longer she sleeps, the longer I can enjoy her body snuggling with mine. Two days in Mexico have flown by. I fear I will never have my fill of Schuyler. Our relationship differs from any I’ve ever had. It’s deeper than I’ve experienced with other women, and it’s not even sexual. I can’t fathom how it might feel if we were to sleep together. I already feel my body gravitate toward her. I want to know more; I want to know everything about her.Her arm tightens around me at the same time she lifts her head from my shoulder. In the sliver of light peeking around the edges of the curtain, I see her wipe at her mouth. It’s then that I realize there’s a pool of moisture on my shoulder.“I’m sorry.” Her voice is hoars
SchuylerI’m happy to see Dallas sunning herself on a lounge chair by the pool as we emerge from our afternoon nap. While Calvin quickly hops in the pool with the rest of his group, I signal for Dallas to follow me.“What’s up?” she whispers as we walk from the pool area to the beach. “And where have the two of you been?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.I cross the hot sand to the shade of a palm tree. When Dallas joins me, I whisper, “He kissed me.” I then wait for her wisdom and advice.“Oh. My. God.” she squeals, hopping up and down, clapping. “Give me all the details!” Hands together, her fingertips patter against each other maniacally.“Stop,” I demand. “This isn’t good.”Dallas places her hands on my shoulders, looking sternly into my eyes. “This is the best thing to happen to you.”I shake my head. I came to the wrong person for advice.“How?” I’m desperate to understand how this could be a good thing.“You promised to have fun this week. Calvin kissing you is fun,” she s