A Night to Forget (6 page)

“What would you like to drink?” he asked.

“Sex on the Beach,” I blurted out, “—the drink,” I added after a slight delay, failing miserably at my attempt to clarify.

Though if I had a choice, I’d much rather have the real sex on the beach with you.
I thought as I bit my lower lip.

Ohmygod
, Emma, stop thinking that, and focus! Stop being such a lush!
a faint voice in my head screamed.

Brandon looked at me quizzically. His eyes were gentle, yet sultry. His smile was inviting and alluring.

“Would you like some water or soda first before we get you that Sex on the Beach?”

Did I seem that drunk?
I felt myself blush and prayed that my face was already red from the alcohol. “Um, sure. Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Well, we have a good seven hours to kill, so let’s pace ourselves.”

“We do?” I said as I looked up at him. “Are you planning on staying with me the entire time?”
Oh God, I must sound so desperate
.

“Sure, if you’d like the company.” He gave me a warm smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t feel right if I left you alone in this state, especially when I know you’ll be alone for the rest of the night.” He had a kind face, and as I looked at him, I couldn’t help but feel like I could trust him.

“Thanks, I’d like that. And I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

“Carlos,” he said towards the bartender.

Carlos turned around and smiled at us, “Señor Fisher, what would you like?”

“This beautiful lady would like a Diet Coke, and please get me my usual double malt scotch,” Brandon said to Carlos.

I froze.
Did he just say I was beautiful?
I looked around to see if there was another girl around us.

I must have wobbled slightly as I turned, because the next thing I knew, my stool tipped over and Brandon caught me before I fell.

His body was warm and hard, and his arms felt strong and protective around me. His intoxicating smell nearly sent me over the edge as I inhaled deeply.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked as he pulled me back on my stool. He was now standing next to my stool with his arms protectively around me.

God, this feels nice. Can I have you forever?

I looked up into his eyes, and thought I saw a spark of desire in them.

“Yes, sorry. I’m such a klutz,” I said slowly and softly, transfixed by his gaze.

“Well I’m glad that I was here to catch you then,” he said playfully. His voice was equally slow and soft. His face was only six inches away from mine now and I could feel his warm breath gently tickling my face as he spoke.

For a few long seconds, we said nothing and only stared into each other’s eyes. Even in my intoxicated fog, I knew there was an undeniable and inextricable connection between us that neither of us could explain.
I want you to kiss me. I need you to kiss me,
I thought as I silently willed him to devour me.

As if he heard me, he inched forward slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the need inside me grow stronger.
At that moment, the electric excitement between us was palpable as it buzzed between us.

“A Diet Coke and a scotch,
señor,” Carlos said as he rushed by to hand us our drinks before moving on to tend to a crowd of people on the other end of the bar.

Brandon pulled slightly away at Carlos’s interruption, and the
n the moment was gone.

Don’t be silly, Emma. He’s not interested. You’re having alcoholic delusions
, a convincing voice said inside me.

Brandon handed me my drink and sipped his scotch. “So how long have you been in Cancun?” he asked me.

“A week now. Today’s actually our last night here,” I said. Sadness filled me as I realized how short of a time I would have with him.

“Oh, I’m really sorry you missed the booze cruise on your last night.”

“It’s okay. It was my fault. I got lost looking for the restroom and missed the boat,” I said, realizing how stupid I must sound to him.

“Well, why don’t we do this? If you want to, that is. After our drink, we can take a walk on the beach, like you had planned, and I can take you to my favorite place to wa
tch the sunset here in Cancun.”

I look back at him. He was wearing a loose, white linen shirt that accentuated his sun-kissed tan and lightly hugged the muscles on his arms and chest. The first two buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing the toned contours of his pecks. My mind raced to thoughts of that same body, naked, and on top of mine, and—

“Did you want to do that?” Brandon asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

I blinked, and looked up at him. “Sorry, what?” I asked.

“Did you want to walk on the beach with me and see the sunset?” he asked, his voice was gentle and patient.

“Yes, that would be great,” I said, slightly breathless.

“Perfect.” He gave me a dazzling smile and his dimples came out in full force.
My God.

As we sipped our drinks, I told him about my week in Cancun and the things we had done. I noticed that I was speaking a little louder than usual and my words were slightly slurred. I knew I was drunk, but I thought I was doing a great job of hiding that fact from Brandon.

Before Brandon closed out our tab, I insisted that we should get a bottle of champagne—Dom Pérignon, of course—because I hadn’t had a drink yet, and I wanted to “celebrate” while we watched the sunset. I wasn’t quite sure what I thought we were celebrating and gave Brandon no further explanation. He only chuckled and said, “You’re a lady with expensive taste,” before he ordered a bottle and two flutes to go.

Chapte
r
6

After he paid the tab, Bra
ndon led me towards the beach. As we walked, I realized that I was drunker than I had initially thought. I was still standing on my two feet, but needed the occasional help from Brandon, which of course, I didn’t mind.

As we started down the beach, the alcohol was making me
uncontrollably giddy and light, and I started to giggle.

“What so funny?” Brandon asked with amusement.

“I don’t know, but something’s funny,” I said between giggles.

“Could it be the alcohol?” he ventured teasingly.

I hiccupped, and then said, “No, it’s not, I’m not drunk at all,” I said defiantly, but seconds later, laughed at myself. Brandon joined in.

Then a man who had been walking towards us interrupted our laughter. “Hey, it’s you from the other ni
ght,” the man slurred.

I looked up at Brandon, waiting for him to respond to the man. Brandon shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

“No, you,” the man said to me. “At Dady’Os the other night. You were the hot girl in the glittery tight dress. You girls high-fived me, remember?”

Then a memory from that night surfaced in my mind. He wasn’t wearing the same shirt as that night, but his lobster-tan was undeniable.

“Ohmygod, Mr. Muscle Shirt Man!” I yelled, and gave the man a high-five as I laughed.

“Mr. who?” Brandon asked, as he watched me. His eyes seemed to be filled with a mixture of confusion and hurt.
Why was he upset?

“You know, Mr. Muscle Shirt Man. We met him the other night,” I said, “I mean, the girls and I did.

“Who’s Mr. Muscle Shirt Man?” the man asked as he put his arms around me, almost dragging me down as he wobbled in his step.

Before I can answer, the man continued, “Hey, you should come back to my hotel. My buddies and I are getting ready go to out to this foam party at
Señor Frogs. You should definitely come. It’ll be fucking crazy.”

“
Aww, that sounds like fun, but I’m going to watch the sunset,” I said, starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the man’s aggressiveness.

Brandon looked concerned and pulled me away from the man, “Emma, maybe we should get going?”

“Okay,” I said.

“Hey, what’s your problem, man? She can talk to whoever she wants,” the guy said as he approached Brandon.

At well over six feet tall, Brandon was unfazed by the guy. He ignored him and turned to me, “Let’s go.” He held out his hand, and I took it immediately, grateful to be under his protection.

The guy protested, “Hey dude! I was still talking to her.”

Finally Brandon looked straight at the guy and said, “This conversation is done. We have plans that doesn’t involve you. So we’re going to say goodbye now. Don’t make me say that again.” Brandon’s voice was hoarse and threatening. For some reason, this violent side of him excited me.

“Dude, chill out,” the guy said. “You can fucking have her,” he yelled as backed away.

After the guy left, Brandon turned to me. “Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes were soft with concern.

I nodded. The unexpected protectiveness he had shown brought me to tears.

“Are you sure?” he asked with concern.

“Yes, I am. I’m just really grateful that you’re here,” I said as I blinked away the tears.

“Me too,” he said as he smiled at me warmly. “Now, let’s go see that sunset.”

***

The sun was now inching towards the horizon, and the sky was colored with hues of warm crimson and orange and the ocean was an ombré of dark turquoise. The light breeze blew gently through my messy braid and soothed my warm, flushed face. He held my hand as we walked down the beach. His hand was warm, and fit perfectly with mine.

“What do you think?” he asked
when we stopped walking.

I looked around in amazement. He was right. This was a great place to see the sunset. In the middle of the beach
, under a few small palm trees, was a plush canopy bed. On the bed laid several white oversized down pillows and a white lush throw. The sheer white chiffon that draped around the four posts of the bed flowed seductively with the gentle breeze. The foot of the bed was positioned towards the ocean, directly facing the sunset.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful out here,” I said as I took in the moment, trying to capture it forever in my memory. This beach, this sunset, this romantic
canopy bed, and with
him
right next to me, holding my hand. I turned to look at him, and our eyes met.

“Yes, it certainly is beautiful,” he said as he looked at
me. His words caused my heart to flutter in my chest.

“Why is this out here?” I asked
as I looked at the bed.

“They actually have a few down this area of the beach. A lot of honeymooners come out here, and the hotels set up these beds for co
uples to watch the sunset,” he said as he looked at me.

“Wow,” I said breathlessly as I looked at him. As he guided me towards the bed, feeling of happiness and desire rushed through me.

Brandon popped open the champagne and handed me a glass. I nervously drank it down quickly. Brandon chuckled. “Here, let me fill your glass again, but this time, can you wait for me?” he teased.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” I said, guiltily looking down at my glass. “I was thirsty?” I ventured weakly.

“Right,” Brandon said wryly as he refilled my glass.

He sat down on the bed next to me. He lightly touched his glass to mine and looked into my eyes.

“You have amazing green eyes, Emma,” he said. I held his gaze, afraid to blink, for fear that he would disappear if I did. “They’re beautiful.”

I let out a deep sigh.
How can this gorgeous man be into me?
I thought to myself.

“Did you mean what you said earlier about me?” I asked abruptly, allowing the
liquid courage to take control.

“What I said earlier?” He frowned slightly in confusion.

“You know, what you said to the bartender, and right before I fell off my barstool,” I continued. Even with the liquid courage, there was still a part of me that was shy.
I wish I could channel Steph’s confidence and directness
, I thought.

“When I ordered our drinks?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m not sure I follow,” he said softly, clearly still confused by the subject of my question.

“You know … when you called me beautiful,” I said sheepishly.
Yup, I’m definitely acting like a teenager
, I thought, embarrassed for myself.

A glimmer of understanding filled Brandon’s face, “Oh, Emma. Yes, of course I meant you,” he chuckled. “You’re gorgeous.”

I looked him in surprise.

“You have to know that, right?” he asked with amusement.

“Well. I guess—I don’t know what to say. Thank you?” I said feeling unsure of myself.
Oh my God, Emma. Thank you? Did you just thank him?

“No need to say a thing,” he said as he pulled me closer to him. “Do you know what’s strange?” he began.

I looked up at him, “What?”

“There’s something about you that pulls me in. I can’t explain it, but I feel connected to you somehow. Does that make sense?” He looked at me with emotion in his eyes.