Page 68 of Hate Wrecked

“He shouldn’t even have been anything to me.”

“No.”

My eyes flash to Rowan, and just as my mouth opens to curse him, his pole moves again, and I close my mouth. I watch him reel the fish in, and just as it emerges from the water, my own pole moves. The argument can wait; dinner needs to be reeled in.

I remember lessons on our needs. First, we ensure we are fed, watered, and sheltered. Then, we can tend to the emotional wounds between us.

It’s survival. The hate can wreck us later.

* * *

After lunch, tired and dirty, I collect a pile of our dirty clothes and find the bar of soap. While Rowan is busy clearing the Hilton of our sleeping bags and tent, I head toward the water and start to clean the clothes on the dock. I soak one item at a time, lather it with soap, and focus on the stained areas, using the soap sparingly.

I hate feeling this dirty. All I want is a fucking shower back home and to sleep in a cool room with air conditioning and no bugs.

After cleaning each item, I lay them on the dock to bake in the sun, grabbing rocks to anchor them down.

The last to clean is me. I glance over my shoulder at the Hilton, then turn back to the lagoon as I shimmy my bikini bottom down, untying my top next, tossing it on the shore.

Slowly, I walk into the water, my bottle of body wash in my hands. I squirt a tiny amount, immediately going to my armpits, and then venture down. I clean between my breasts, though I have no cleavage and sweat hardly pools. I quickly pass over the rest of my body, the suds sparse and barely there. When I turn back to where my bottle and shampoo bottle sit, I glance at the Hilton. Unfortunately, I don’t see Rowan.

I dip my hair into the water, submerging it, then stand, reaching for the shampoo bottle. I pour out a tiny amount and focus on my roots. My hair is dry from the sun and tangled from the wind, and the small amount of shampoo does little to clean it. Still, I’m satisfied that my roots no longer feel disgusting.

When I swim out into the lagoon, I turn onto my back, letting my hair soak in the water. My small breasts break the surface of the water, and it’s strange to have the sun touch every inch of me again. I haven’t sunbathed in the nude in a long time, and it takes me back to my younger years when I would tempt Rowan from the pool.

I close my eyes and let myself sink into the past, the way I want to pull him in and make him feel desire. I can’t help but hope he is watching now, from wherever he is.

We’re in paradise, surrounded by untouched beauty. And all I want is to be touched by him.

After a while, I swim back to the dock, pull myself onto it, and walk out of the water toward my small pile of clean clothes. Once I’ve put on a fresh bikini, I look at the Hilton again. Rowan is standing there, his back to me, surveying the inside, maybe assessing his work.

I slip on my shoes and walk to him, wondering if he saw me. Hoping he did.

“Need any help?” I ask when I reach him.

Rowan turns, and his eyes cast over me fleetingly.

Oh, he saw me.

I smirk, and he ignores it. So I press, reaching out and touching Rowan’s shoulder. “You next? You’re hardly clean.”

Rowan rolls his eyes. “I’ll clean up now that you’re done.”

If he thinks I won’t be watching him the whole time, he’s mistaken.

Rowan is made of marble. When I met him, he was thinner, young and lithe, babyfaced. Now, he has hard lines, strong shoulders, and...an eight-pack? It’s ridiculous, the way he looks. He must live at the gym and have no life at all.

By day, he protects my mother, and by night, he likely reads and works out. No vices. No cigarettes or alcohol. The way we live here. The way he lived back then.

I need a cigarette. Though I know Rowan would tell me how disgusting they are if I had one right now.

We leave the Hilton and walk back to dock. I gather the dry clothes as Rowan walks to the water. When everything is back where it belongs, I lie down on the dock—as close as I can get to him—closing my eyes, offering him privacy, but I can’t help myself before long. I open my eyes, and watch him in all his glorious beauty. I remember what it was like to be held close by him, to be in his space, to see him undone.

I memorize every line, and in my mind, touch him everywhere.

THEN

ROWAN

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