Page 44 of The Last Sunrise

He leans over. “They’re worried that I’ve been brainwashed by a sexy, smart, funny American girl.”

“Damn it, they figured it out. Damn seagulls.” I raise my middle finger to them, and he falls back laughing.

“They said, and I quote, ‘Fuck you too.’ But don’t worry, I’ll cuss them out later and avenge you by not feeding them.”

“So, have you?” I sit up, putting my elbows on my knees, taking him in. The freckles on his cheeks are darker today, resembling a map of stars. “Been brainwashed, I mean?” I clarify.

“I’m afraid so,” he sighs, scooting the lounge chair even closer to me. “Capitalism wins again.”

“Ha. Ha. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve also been brainwashed by you.”

His expression is full of surprise, which I find equally as surprising given our time together, especially yesterday, and the fact that we haven’t gone a day without seeing each other since we met.

“It does make me feel better.” His grin is cocky yet charming. “Did you wake up thinking about me? I’m asking for a friend, of course.”

“Which friend?”

He looks up. “The seagulls.”

“I don’t think I should give them any more information about me. They’re already trying to sabotage me.”

“Your humor is perfect,” he says, making me flush.

The intensity of the slight language barrier is thrilling in moments like this. Or maybe he’s just the type of person who says what he feels? Either way, it’s refreshing and not at all what I expected from someone who looks the way he does. He could have any and every woman, and man, on this island, but here he is, sitting poolside with me on a Tuesday morning. I’m not thinking that in a self-deprecating sense, just glad he’s going out of his way to show me that he’s as into me as I am him.

“What are you considering right now? I can see the wheels spinning in your mind.” He circles his fingers around next to his ears, then opens his arms wide for me. I move to his chair, sitting between his legs, scooting down a little so my back is against his chest. Leaning my head back, I rest against his skin. I can feel his heart beating the most perfect rhythm.

“I was thinking how you could be anywhere but you’re here with me,” I admit at the risk of sounding insecure.

He wraps his arms tighter around my body. His skin is warm against my upper back. Our bodies fit together perfectly; yesterday on the boat was all the proof I needed of that.

“The only other place I could be is work, and this is more enjoyable.” Soft laughter falls against my ears, and he continues. “This part isn’t a joke.” Nervousness plays in his tone. “I mean every single word.” His hands gently squeeze my shoulders, kissing the top of each.

“I’m exactly where I want to be, and that’s damn terrifying, but I’m going to do my best with how confusing this feels, okay?”

His words come out as a timid warning, but I actively choose to ignore the alarm going off inside my overly active mind and respond with a silent nod. Whatever will happen will happen, and being worried about the potential of something going wrong isn’t fair to myself or to our limited time together. This feeling, whether it’ll be fleeting or not, is everything I imagined and more, and sure as hell worth any pain that will come later. I’m more of a risk than he is, and I wish I wasn’t too selfish to disclose that to him.

“Shall we swim?” he suggests.

Reluctantly I get up from the lounge chair and he pulls me toward the water.

As we float, my body wrapped around his, we glide around the pool, sometimes talking, sometimes letting the silence simmer between us. The water, to my surprise, is salt water, and I should have warned Julián when I smelled it, but he quickly found that out in the worst way, by taking a gulp to spit out at me. Our sleepy guest wakes up as we burst into laughter and Julián coughs, cursing in Spanish. With a grunt, the man mumbles something incoherent and heads back into the hotel, probably to finish his nap.

Julián bounces gently, holding me in his arms, my thighs and arms wrapped around his strong body as we glide through the warm, empty pool.

“It’s so easy with you. All my problems from my family’s business, my doubts and worries, all the things I usually focus too much on, they don’t cross my mind when you’re around,Oriah. I want to spend every waking moment with you. It hasn’t been like this before for me. Ever. I don’t feel like I need to hide, not from you, Ry.”

“Oriah?” My mother’s voice slices through our moment; I nearly jump out of my skin and the water, hoping I’m imagining her standing there.

Without thinking, I push Julián away and stand up straight in the shallow water. I was so lost in Julián’s words that I hadn’t heard the click of her heels approach.

“Mom,” I say, letting Julián know who this woman with a death glare directed at him is.

My mother’s attention drags between Julián and me, slowly repeating as if she’s trying to make sense of what she’s seeing. Me in the embrace of a man. I can imagine why it would surprise her, but I silently plead with my eyes for her not to treat me like a child in front of him.

“Hello, I’m Julián Garcia.” Julián pops out of the pool to politely greet her, wiping his hand on his wet shorts before stretching out his still-wet hand toward her.

Her face pales, and both of their bodies go rigid as the space between them seems to pulse. My heart quickens. Something’s wrong.

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