Stealing Phin (9 page)

I grasped his buttocks, feeling his muscles work as he worked at me. Despite his excitement, he demonstrated impressive restraint and control. He waited for me, and then rose with me to the brink, to the very precipice of orgasm. Our bodies moved in synchronized rhythm. And then he took us both crashing over the edge together. Except instead of falling, we shot upward. Up and up we flew, until finally, we were suspended somewhere outside the uppermost stratosphere.

After a few moments in the aether, gravity beckoned us. And eventually, we floated back down to Earth. Our foreheads touched as we rested against each other to catch our breath.

But as I regained my senses, another kind of gravity weighed on me. In those post-coital moments, when the surge of desire had passed and the higher levels of your brain that had been taken hostage were free to function again, I became overwhelmed with sudden panic and regret.

What
have
I
done?

Abruptly, I pushed Byron off of me and hoisted myself out of the pool.

“Phinegan, wait,” I heard him say.

But I didn’t wait. Instead, I ran into the stormy darkness.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt like someone had snuck in during the night and embedded an axe into my skull.

Señor
Guaro,
you
are
not
mi
amigo.

I cracked my eyes open and groaned at the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. I lay there for several minutes, hopelessly trying to close the curtains by sheer willpower so I didn’t have to physically get up.

Dez snored noisily in the next bed—a sign that her date had accomplished the task of making her come. She had always claimed that coming was the best sleeping draught. And judging by how completely Dez was knocked out, Estevan must’ve done one hell of a job last night.

Then, right on cue, a head popped up from behind Dez’s snoring lump. It was Estevan.

“Speak of the devil,” I said.

He smiled at me widely and put his finger to his lips as he quietly got out of bed, careful not to disturb his Sleeping Beauty.

“I will come back in ten minutes,” he whispered to me as he quickly got dressed, “with a present for mi princesa.”

I nodded, hoping he wasn’t going to run out to the local Tiffany’s for an engagement ring. Poor guy. It was all over his face—he was Dez-struck.

A few minutes after he’d tiptoed out of the room, I took one of my pillows and threw it at the back of Dez’s head. She jerked awake.

“What the fuck,” she croaked. When she tried to open her eyes, she winced and drew the pillow over her face. “Turn the sun off, will you? Before my eyeballs explode in my head.”

“Since when do you let a guy sleep over?” I asked. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always kicked them out as soon as you’re through with them.”

Dez rolled over and faced me. She had a big grin on her face and peeked at me with one eye open. “I never thought I’d break that rule either. But after making me come three times last night, I figured he deserved a little shut-eye before I sent him on his way. Plus, I thought with his stamina, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be ready to go another round in the morning.

“Ugh, while I’m five feet away?”

“We would’ve kept it quiet.”

“Who are you kidding? Last night, you were loud enough to scare the spider monkeys out of any trees within a mile radius.”

Dez couldn’t stop grinning. “I had no idea what these Costa Rican men were capable of. I can confidently say, though, that I now know why they are so good at rolling their R’s.”

“Can you save the gory details of your sexcapade until after I’ve had my coffee?”

“Speaking of delicious, full-bodied Costa Rican drinks,” Dez said as she felt the empty spot next to her that was probably still warm, “where is Estevan anyway?”

“He snuck out a little while ago. Said he was going to bring you a surprise. Very sweet, actually.”

“I hope it’s a new box of condoms. They’re expensive here. Twenty-five hundred colones for a pair in the gift shop. That’s almost five U.S. dollars per orgasm! Not that it wasn’t worth it.”

I laid my arm across my forehead. “If you insist on giving me the blow-by-blow of last night, then at least get the coffee maker going.”

Dez propped herself on her elbows and eyed me with a frown. “So, I take it Little Miss Grouchy Pants didn’t get it in with Carlito last night. I thought you’d taken him for some hot tub action.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think he was really in the mood for a make-out session after I’d spewed my dinner and half the Guaro I drank onto him.”

“Yeah,” Dez pulled a sick face, “I’d say that would take the wind out of his willie-sail. Well, it’s still early, and we’ve got plenty of time left here. And if not Carlito, then maybe some other guy. I’m telling you. It’d be a downright shame if you left this country without getting some rainforest loving!”

I turned onto my side toward Dez and picked at a loose thread. “You know what’s a shame?”

“What?”

“Me.” I kept my eyes down. “I drunk dialed Douglas last night at the Lounge.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I wish.”

“And what did the bastard have to say?”

“He didn’t pick up.”

“Good.”

“No, not good, Dez. I wanted to hear his voice. But he wasn’t home.” I didn’t want to tell Dez about who
was
home. Or, at least, what my intoxicated brain had concluded when I’d heard the girl’s voice on his line.

But as my hangover hammered away at my head, I realized just how drunk I was when I’d called Douglas. Maybe I’d just imagined the entire thing. Or maybe I’d accidentally dialed the wrong number.

“I wonder where he was last night,” I mused, bitterly noting how naïve I sounded even to myself.

Dez gave me a look. “Do I really have to say it?”

“No.” I pulled harder at the thread until it broke. “That thought crossed my mind, too.”

But then, as if to save itself from the ensuing pain, my mind dug its heels deeper into denial and tossed me a bone. I suddenly remembered something else that could explain his absence last night. “There was a lot of drama going down at the office around the time I left,” I said. “Douglas was super stressed about it. Said it could be career-changing. I bet he was working late to deal with that.”

I could tell Dez didn’t buy it, but she humored me. “Was his ass getting put in the sling for all the illegal stuff he was doing?”

“It wasn’t illegal.” I quickly defended him. “A little unethical, maybe, but not illegal.”

At least, that’s what Douglas kept telling me.

After he’d lost his biggest client six months ago, he felt pressure to keep his revenue numbers up because he’d just made partner. So, he’d instructed me to pad the hours the associates on his team billed to his clients when I filled out the monthly billing reports.

At first I’d hesitated, naturally worried about both of us getting into trouble, but he’d reassured me it was just temporary.

These
clients
have
so
much
money
they’re
not
going
to
notice
an
extra
hour
being
billed
to
them
here
or
there
, he’d insisted.
Plus,
the
work
product
I
provide
is
worth
more
than
my
billing
rate.
So,
at
the
end
of
the
day,
I’m
just
charging
them
what
they
owe
me
.

Although his explanation wasn’t enough to easy my doubts, I’d trusted him and his judgment.

I hoped Douglas didn’t get in trouble over this. He’d worked so hard to become partner that it would devastate him if he lost it all. His career was more important to him than anything else in his life. His ambition was something that I’d admired about him. I’d always worked hard in school. But Douglas had taught me the difference between being a hard worker and being driven. The more I thought about it, the more worried I got for Douglas. I wished I could see him and make sure he was all right.

Dez interrupted my thoughts. “You have any other confessions you want to make this morning?”

Suddenly, I found myself thinking about Byron. “No,” I said weakly as my cheeks burned. I tried to turn away from Dez before she noticed, but it was too late.

“You’re lying to me.” She sat up in bed and pointed an accusing finger at me. “I knew it—you
did
hook up last night!” She squealed. “It’s all over your face. Was Carlito good? Of course he was. He’s gorgeous and aims to please. Did you like it in the water? Sometimes it can make you chafe down there, depending on the temperature. I’m so glad you got to sample the local talent!”

Her words caused the memories of what had happened with Byron to spill over the dam of denial I had built up in my mind.

As I pulled my pillow over my face in shame, the door opened and Estevan entered.

“Did I hear someone say she likes to sample local talent? I bring you hot Costa Rican coffee and sweet bread from the most talented baker in La Fortuna.” He handed us both a to-go cup of the rich smelling liquid and a roll that was still warm from the oven.

As I gratefully sipped the smooth coffee, I couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for Estevan. Coffee couldn’t put back together my sorry wreck of a life, but it could at least ease my pounding headache a bit. Plus, his timing was impeccable.

I watched Dez and Estevan canoodle on her bed. She talking dirty to him in English, and he talking dirty to her in Spanish while they shared a piece of sweet bread. It was the closest I’d ever seen Dez come to intimacy—without the exchange of bodily fluids, that is.

Maybe Carlito had been right—Costa Rica has a way of seeping into your system. Everything about it, from the heat of the air that carried the scent of the lush rainforest into your bedroom to the impossibly bright splashes of color in the flowers to the sense of excitement at being in an exotic place—was enough to put a hopeless romantic in danger of falling in love every other minute.

But sure enough, as my headache eased, my heart began to ache. Guilt over what I did with Byron tormented me until I could no longer stand it. That wasn’t me. I didn’t know what had come over me, and it made me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and frightened. It was so outside of what was normal for me that it made me feel as if I didn’t know who I was anymore.

My grip tightened around the paper cup in my hands, as I made a resolution. It was time that I take control over my life again. I reached deep inside to draw on those old parts of me that I knew were still in there somewhere. The old Phin wouldn’t just sit around and let this feeling eat her alive. No. She would pick herself up and do something about it.

Filled with determination and renewed strength, I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts.

Dez looked up from rubbing noses with Estevan. “Where are you going?”

“To make things right again,” I said, grabbing my wallet. Before she could quiz me more, I walked out the door.

Jesus,
relax,
Phin.
I halted my tense, stiff-legged march and took a few deep breaths before continuing down the path to Room 203—Byron’s room.

After I’d purchased a new phone card from the gift shop, I’d used the payphone outside the front office to call and leave a message on Douglas’s cell that I wanted to talk things over with him and to call me back as soon as he could. Then, I inquired at the front desk about which room was Byron’s.

“We hung out at the Lava Lounge last night, and he left his wallet behind,” I’d fibbed. The front desk girl had known without having to check which room he was in. I’d ignored the teeny tiny pang of jealousy triggered by my automatic assumptions about how or why she knew his room number by heart, and I promptly set on to accomplish my next task…before my brave front faded away.

Too quickly, I arrived at his door. Feeling my resolve dissipating as my nerves began to fray, I clenched my teeth and knocked before I gave into the urge to abort the mission.