Page 13 of Date and Switch

“You wound me.” He plastered himself along the length of the wall, dramatically gasping for air. “For someone with such an angelic name, you sure have a serpent’s tongue.”

I lobbed a smack to his chest, unable to stifle my giggles at his ridiculous display. His arm span however, was much wider than I anticipated, and the moment I got close enough to land a playful swat, I became ensnared in the collective wingspan of both of his arms.

My giggles unfurled into full on laughter, struggling while gasping for air to free myself. One minute I was wiggling to try to get him to release me, and the next our bodies aligned perfectly front to front. Our noses were mere centimeters away from one another. We shared the same air as our laughter melted into giggles.

He tasted like the powdered sugar from the pastechi we’d shared at the coffee shop. It took a minute for my brain to catch up with the action that felt as natural as breathing. This time Bryce kissed me. Not a friendly skimming of lips either. It was a full on, toe curling, muscle melting, hand cupped on my jaw, legs turning to jello, kiss.

A kiss I didn’t want to end. I wanted more of them. An evening of them. To jump into an ocean of the blissful feeling. To listen to that feeling while it whispered his name over and again in my head with each lazy pass of his lips against mine.

I cradled his jaw just as he did mine, trying to hold him in place so I could gluttonously store every ounce of goose bump inducing pleasure before the crystalline shell of the moment broke. Except it didn’t break, it shattered. The second I touched Bryce; it was as if I’d electrocuted him. He pulled away from me, wiping at his mouth like he was cleansing himself of every microscopic piece of evidence our kiss had occurred.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

nine

Why. That was the question of the hour. The one that pushed incessantly against my conscious. Why had I kissed her? Why couldn’t I stop? Why did I stop? Why do I feel like such a heel every time I look at the confusion in Sera’s eyes? I buried my head in my hands, trying to force the thoughts away.

The last two weeks of having Sera in my space should have made me uncomfortable. We were practically strangers, yet her presence provided an odd comfort. I liked to hear her humming on the balcony while she stared into the horizon. I enjoyed her tinkling laughter when she read a line in a book on her Kindle that struck a chord. Or all the times she’d brought me a bottle of water, a cup of coffee, or fixed me a plate at the buffet and brought it back to the room while I worked. Her presence, her sweetness, how considerate she was, it settled something inside of me.

Sera had to be one of the kindest women I’d met. At first, I thought she did it as a way to ease her discomfort in not paying for the cruise. But it’s inherent to her nature. I’d watched her for going on eleven days, and most of the time her kindness occurred on a subconscious level.

That comfort spilled into friendly hand holding while we were around town. Somehow that hand holding exploded into a kiss that I felt all the way in the nucleus of my cells. I’m certain it was transference. My brain hadn’t yet detached from “my” Sarah, in the past tense, to Sera my travel companion. It was obvious I desperately needed to feel some level of intimacy simply to stop my heart from burning in pain.

That wasn’t fair to Sera. She didn’t deserve to be my rebound. If that was even what it was. Whatever the title, she was clearly someone my subconscious wanted to use to selfishly plug up my festering wounds.

“Our group is next.”

Sera interrupted my thoughts, pointing towards the shore where the captain of the glass bottom boat began waving at us. After that earthquake of a kiss and my less than smooth rejection, I’d been desperate to find anything to distract us both from my epic fuck up. Glass bottom boat tour, snorkeling, and a visit to Flamingo Island seemed like the perfect afternoon to distract me from my reeling thoughts.

“Have you ever seen water this blue?” She shielded her eyes to look across the ocean into the distance. “I’ve been to Mexico, and to a few islands in the Caribbean, but nothing this far south. And I feel like my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

“Not to undersell this,” I tipped my sunglasses down as if I could look into her eyes, despite her oversized sunglasses, “but I’m pretty sure you’ll be saying that a lot this trip. Given we’re traveling around the world on the ocean, I have a feeling we’ll be experiencing every shade of blue imaginable.”

We both looked out at the ocean in silence. The dock came into view. We’d be off on our snorkeling adventure in a few minutes. I hated the weirdness that I’d created. It felt like a crevasse of discomfort between the two of us.

“I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out, unbidden. “The mixed signals, from earlier. It’s not fair to you. I told you implicitly from the onset that we’re nothing more than friendly travel companions, and then I kiss you senseless. I think I’m experiencing a bit of transference—you know because both of you are named Sarah, and this was supposed to be a grand gesture to sweep Sarah off her feet. Anyway, it won’t happen again. And I’m sorry if I’ve made the beginning of our trip uncomfortable for you.”

ten

Date & Switch Day 15

You know what no one ever tells you when you’re floating ass up, face down in the ocean? That your pasty white thighs have literally never seen the light of day. And also, the ocean acts like a gigantic magnifying glass. Yep, you guessed it. Second degree sunburn, on my ass cheeks and that flabby business between my thighs and my lady parts. Perfect place for searing pain. Our days in Bonaire, Curacao, and French Guiana were spent soaking up the sun (too much, based on the discomfort in my nether region), snorkeling, and experiencing the bluest water I’ve seen to date. Though Bryce reminded me we have lots of ocean still to see on this little trip and more than likely we’ll get to experience a multitude of shades. We have a few days at sea, we land in Brazil on Christmas Eve just in time for the entrance into my 35th year on earth! Seems like a pretty decent place to celebrate. Thankfully with just the ship to entertain me for the next four days, I’m hoping I can take care of the worst of this sunburn before this huge three week stretch of what promises to be some breathtaking sights! Don’t forget to check the pictures on our Instagram. Even when I can’t get a stable enough connection to post the blog (at sea internet isn’t perfect) I can usually get some decent wifi when we’re at port.

Until next time

Sera

* * *

It felt dishonest continually posting chipper updates about how great everything was going. Ever since Bonaire, I’d been living with a snowman. For a few days he’d been fun and charming. That kiss. Jesus he was a gold medalist in kissing. That kiss infiltrated my dreams. Teased me behind my eye lids every time I closed my eyes. Having him close enough I could reach out and touch him each night? To be surrounded by his smell, able to hear the tiny sighs and mumbles he made while he slept? It was all a tantalizing package that from far away looked beautiful and festive, but when you looked at it up close the wrapping paper actually screamed “Danger! Don’t Touch!”

Now to make matters worse, the whole lower half of my throbbed as if my skin had been soaked in acid and slowly peeled away from the bone. The pain took my breath away. I couldn’t sit. Standing was pretty uncomfortable as well. I’d spent the day face down on my bed wearing a sundress with no underwear and about a pound of aloe vera.

Bryce was practically a ghost since telling me we wouldn’t ever be anything more than friends. He’d collected his laptop and went to ships conference room to work on a project as soon as we got back. He didn’t return until the middle of the night. It was more of the same all day yesterday.

“I stopped by the infirmary,” Bryce’s appearance in the bedroom startled me nearly out of my inflamed skin, “this is a medicated ointment. They said it should at least make the pain tolerable.”

I turned my head on my pillow to look at him and collect the bag from his hand. He looked exhausted. And stressed.

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