“But you’re really fucking tired, like I am?”
He nods. “I need a nap and a shower. This humidity is not my thing.” The doors open on his floor, and he slowly backs out. “But I’ll see you tonight? Yes? Text me when you’re ready.”
I nod. “Hey!” I call out and stop the doors from closing.
Dave pivots. “Yes?”
“Humidity is also not my thing. I have to tell you that while I love Puerto Rico so much, I find this weather gross and disgusting, and I put fifty-seven products in my hair so it’d look moderately okay today. Basically, I melt when it’s even slightly hot.”
“Okay.”
“Like, I melt emotionally and physically.”
“Not a fan of the heat either,” he says. “Facing the streets here during the day is only for the food.”
“Yes.” I sigh and about flop with relief. “So, I just mean, I’ll look gross if we leave this hotel again. I can’t keep up this hair facade. Can we just hang by the pool? I don’t want to tromp around town again in this insane heat, worrying that I’ll pass out from dehydration, no matter how much Smart Water I drink, and fussing with my hair all the time because I do not have the patience or interest to manage my looks in this climate.”
What in the fuck am I doing? Saying?
Not only does he not laugh, but he doesn’t flinch at my weirdness. “We can hang wherever you want. And you’d never look gross, no matter the weather. Only beautiful. Your red curls are just…” He sweetly flails, to my surprise. “Your red curls are beyond enticing. So, meet up in the bar in twenty?” he suggests.
I balk at his compliment. “Deal,” I agree. “Maybe let’s hit the actual beach this time.”
I run to my room and panic-wipe myself down with wet wipes and deodorant to make myself not so smelly. I try to take a breath as I change into a new monochromatic and comfy outfit. This time navy. Remembering to swipe my neck with a few drops of citrus oil as a last-minute move, I pat myself on the back.
I arrive at the bar and see that he’s ordered two drinks. Then he escorts me through the hotel and outside onto the beach to comfy chairs, snagging two towels and some blankets from the hotel stand as we walk by.
The sand is somehow both rough and soothing as we make our way to our spot, and before I can lie back on the lounger, David dramatically waves a hand and leans down in a bow. “Towel?”
I grin. “Monsieur?”
Very formally and with a cute wink, he arranges the plush towel over my chair and then scoots our chairs together.
While looking at the ocean rolling under the night sky, David sets down his own towel and nestles into his seat before unveiling a blanket that he tosses over us.
And then it’s just quiet. He doesn’t say a word, nor do I.
Like, for ages.
And I am so grateful for this silence, the silence I didn’t know I needed.
But finally, I roll over, snuggling a blanket against me, against us. “Hi.Ciao.”
“Ciao. You said ciao to that person,” he whispers back as he turns my way. It’s a Schitt’s Creek mention that I love. “You said you didn’t want this trip. What’s the opposite of this trip? What’s the one you wanted? Like, your ideal place to stay?”
“Maybe somewhere freezing and isolated. Something really cozy.” I wave my hands around. “A log cabin. Fire place, wonderfully comfy bed, winter view of a stormy ocean. You know, Patrick and I were on a polar bear excursion once. I’m down with the cold stuff.”
“You like cold? Actually, I might have a place for you,” David says with a grin and throws a stupidly muscular arm over my shoulder in a cuddle.
He fesses up that he has a cabin in his hometown, not too far from his own house on the coast of Maine, which he rents out as an Airbnb. She should make the drive. His somber look kind of gets to me.
“Sounds like maybe you need to be alone for a while. And I can confirm that it’s icy and freezing during fall and winter months. Not Alaska cold, but still damn cold. A town called Snowshoe Cove.”
“Because all the residents are, what, fans of snowshoeing?”
Dave laughs. “I’m sure we have a fair share of snowshoe people, but it’s because of the hare. As in rabbit. It’s got big, fat feet that keep it from sinking into the snow, but more interestingly, it changes color, its fur turning brown in the summer and white in the winter. For camouflage.”
“That’s actually super cool.” I’m on board with an animal who knows how to hide.
