Page 89 of Pick-Up
“Um,” says Charlie. “Yes? I know it’s a bit unorthodox.”
He locks eyes momentarily with Stephanie. She nods ever so slightly. And now I suspect she’s behind this subterfuge.
But why?
I can contemplate the answer and her demise later. Right now, I need to pick my chin up off the floor and act like a big girl.
I force my face into what I’m sure is a terrifying fake smile. “Okay! Great! Let’s do it! Can’t wait!”
The rest of the team remains where they’re standing, looking at me like they’re unsure whether to approach. Like I’m a rabid skunk.
“Now!”
Everyone jumps into action, setting up quick-and-dirty reflectors and styling the hammock just so. Brushing sand and dust from surrounding rocks and fronds.
Charlie wants to get a wide shot, to create the effect of us floating above the water, so he will shoot from a distance away. But, first, he walks down the beach to the hammock itself and gestures me and Ethan over. I approach like the condemned. I’m trying to keep my cool, but it is long gone. It’s bad enough that I’m having confusing feelings about Ethan, bad enough that we kissed last night and haven’t even acknowledged it, but now we have to get up close and personal in front of an audience.
“So, I want it to feel like you guys are a real couple on vacation together,” Charlie is saying. “Like just super relaxed. No need for posing or smiling at camera. I just want you guys to climb in and chill—like you’re blissfully alone at the farthest recesses of the world.”
Ethan nods, studiously listening—and maybe avoiding my eyes. At least that’s what he projects. He is the good pupil; I am the troublemaker.
“Chill! Perfect! Sounds good!” I say too abruptly. Like a drill sergeant on amphetamines.
Ethan and Charlie glance at me like I’ve lost it. They exchange a look I can’t read.
“We’ll get into position,” says Ethan, ignoring me. Charlie takes this cue to walk back up the beach and check in with Jackie. As usual, we’ve cleared the area.
Ethan takes a step toward me and dips his face close to mine, so I am shielded from prying eyes. He is trying to give us privacy, but it ratchets my stress up a level. He is sharing my personal space. Part of me wants to take a step toward him. The other part wants to run away. But staying where I am feels like torture.
“Are you okay?” he whispers. “If you feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to do this.”
“I’m good!” I try.
“Sasha,” he says. “C’mon.”
This diffuses me. I exhale, gathering myself. I was surprised by the request, but I can handle this. I can be close to Ethan and not fall apart. Even with his breath on my neck.
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “I’m okay.”
“Okay. Well, then we should…” He gestures toward the hammock. “I’ll get in first, so I can steady it for you.”
He falls effortless against the ropes, his tan forearms flexing as he shifts his body to make space on the near side for me. He lies back. And he is a vision. As sparkly as the sun. Lightly rocking, he puts his hands behind his head in full relaxation and sighs. “This is actually amazing.”
There are shadows of palm fronds playing across his handsome face. His hair is adorably shaggy, like the vacation has won. He looks up at me and offers a genuine, almost vulnerable smile—a little crooked in the best way. One-thousand watts and counting. “You coming?”
I am. I am coming. If I can just catch my breath. I grasp the rough hammock in one hand and, for a second, I’m distracted by the mechanics of climbing in without displacing the sarong around mywaist and my bathing suit top. There is no graceful version of this—at least not for me. I opt to go butt first and, by the grace of God, I’m able to shimmy on and into position, so that we are head to foot, my knees bent so that my feet are in line with his thighs.
But my bliss at having succeeded is short-lived.
Ethan lifts his head, peering at me curiously from the other end. “Um. I think Charlie intended for us to be lying in the same direction.”
“What? No! Why?”
“Well, because we’re supposed to be a couple on a honeymoon, not two twelve-year-old Boy Scouts sharing a tent.”
I see his point. Of course, I do. If I’m honest, I saw it from the outset. I was just hoping no one would notice I was nowhere near him.
I try for one last out: “How do you know that’s what he wants?”
