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One wink at her and her jaw drops, like she can’t tell if I’m joking or not. (I’m not, but I was double-majoring and taking on a lot of extracurriculars and just didn’t make time for a haircut.) Finally, Gwen rolls her eyes, smirking. “You’re such a pain in the ass, Sawyer Dawson.”
Gwendolyn
It’s true, he is a pain in the ass, but he’s also thoughtful. Some might say sweet. Growing up with his mom and grandma explains his awareness of things like my dress in the glass elevator that first night and his caring for me last night. I could have done without the nightcap back in my room, but I appreciate his respect for an independent woman, letting me make my own choices.
Nancy and Gram find us at lunchtime, their arms full of snacks from the gift shop. After our smorgasbord of Reese’s Pieces and pretzel nuggets, it’s time to head to our excursion.
We file in, part of a group of about a dozen, onto a wooden platform that floats in the bay just behind the gift shop. Gram and Nancy are the first to enter, with Sawyer and me right behind them. Winston, the trainer, explains what we’ll see and do today, and after reminding the parents in the group to keep their kids’ hands and bodies out of the water, he calls up our dolphin.
Her name is Freddie, because the way her silver body glides through the water reminds Winston of mercury. I can see it: her missile-like body darts under the far end of our platform straight through the center opening, right up to Winston for a high five and a fish. Gram is loving it; even with Nancy and Sawyer between us, I hear her distinctive laughter and oohs and aahs.
Winston teaches us about dolphins and their unique characteristics, like echolocation and how their pregnancies last for up to sixteen months—and yes, there is a collective shudder from the women in the group at that fact. Sawyer groans, then leans toward me and says, “They’d better get great Mother’s Day gifts.”
Winston sets up a few tricks with Freddie. We see her jump, fetch a football, spin in circles, and splash an unsuspecting tourist who’s been so preoccupied with taking the perfect photo that she fails to see what’s right in front of her until she’s drenched. Freddie laughs, her strong tail propelling her upright and backward across the water.
Then we’re pulled in groups of four onto the front platform for a flipper shake, kiss, and photo op, starting with the family across from us. It’s fun to see the kids in each of the first groups either beam or blanch when Freddie approaches, and Sawyer and I both let out an awww when a little girl no older than five tells Freddie she loves her.
When it’s our turn, Gram gets the first kiss. She crinkles her nose against the fishy smell but leans in, lips puckered and ready. Nancy whispers something I can’t hear in her ear and Gram laughs, and Sawyer whispers under his breath to me that it’s a good thing the children have all left the area. Then he turns toward Nancy, and his broad back blocks my view. I lean in, trying to see around him, just as a wave rolls in against the platform. Everything shifts and I’m off-balance, flailing to avoid falling into the water.
Some fearful noise (I choose to erase it from my memory) gurgles from my throat, and Sawyer whips around, throwing an arm out to steady me. He succeeds, but it would have been ideal if his hand had landed somewhere other than my boob.
“You okay?” he asks, scanning my face with concern etched on his own.
“Yeah, fine.” I can’t decide whether it’s more awkward to draw attention to his hand or to just let it stay there until he moves it naturally on his own, but Winston saves the day. And by ‘saves the day’ I mean ‘mortifies us both.’
“Sir.” He clears his throat. “This is a family-friendly activity.”
Sawyer’s eyes flit to Winston, then follow the trainer’s gaze, then double in size. “OH! Sorry,” he mumbles, jerking his hand back. He turns again toward Nancy, who’s been shaking a dolphin’s flipper for what feels like an eternity, and I watch color flood his neck and ears.
We both take our turns without incident, and Freddie even gifts me a smooth stone from the bottom of the bay before we pile in for our photo. Sawyer kneels behind me at the photographer’s command, and Gram and Nancy fill in behind us. When Freddie makes her appearance in the photo, it’s with a kiss on Gram’s cheek.
We wave goodbye to Freddie and climb up the ladder and off the platform. Sawyer and I offer assistance to our grandmothers, though Gram smirks when she lets Sawyer take her by the arm and cracks a joke about him getting handsy with multiple women in one day.
I lag a few steps behind Gram and Nancy, who take off giddily for the lockers, and cross my arms over my chest. “Thank you, for earlier,” I say. It’s an invitation, a peace offering, and Sawyer falls into step beside me.
He runs a hand through his hair, then shoves both into the pockets of his swim shorts. “Of course. And sorry, again, about…”
I force out a laugh when his voice trails off. “Sure you are.”
“Hey. Gwen.” He stops, so I stop, and if he was avoiding my gaze before he makes up for it now, staring straight into my eyes. “I’m not like that. I would never—”
“I know.”
Our gazes are locked another long moment, until he nods and shifts. “Good,” he says, resuming our walk back.
We get to relax another thirty minutes before it’s time to be ferried back to the ship, and Sawyer spends the whole ride with his hands wrapped in the swirling terry of the beach towel in his lap, his eyes fixed firmly on the water ahead.
Sawyer
The cold shower is exactly what I’ve needed since the “incident” with Gwen. I didn’t mean to grab her there—I just wanted to keep her from falling into the water. But since I did grab her there, since I know how she feels in my hand… Yes, the cold shower is perfect.
I meant what I told her, which is that I’m not that kind of guy, and I feel guilty for even thinking about it now. It just felt right, our bodies being connected like that. And last night? Best sleep I’ve had in months. It was nice, being close to someone. To her. And to be fair, I’m not just thinking about her body, but about her smile, her laughter, her brain, and her maddening wit, and I’m so fucking hard, despite the cold shower, despite knowing how very much I should not be thinking of her right now, like this.
Logic kicks in, and I reason that it’s just been a while. Chelsea and I broke up months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since then. Maybe that makes Gwen my rebound, which is why I feel this longing for her—to finally be able to move on.
I do everything I can—think about sports, what I want for dinner tonight, the fishy smell of that dolphin—but I’m in physical pain. I rest my forehead against the shower wall, increase the water temperature, and curse myself for thinking of nothing but Gwen when I wrap my hand around my erection and give myself a much-needed release.
After sequestering myself in my stateroom for three hours, I venture out for pizza and a sea breeze. I bite into scorching hot pepperoni as I wander the outer decks, enjoying the slow ship speed and ocean air. If the afternoon’s shower was any indication, I need more cooling down on this trip.
