I can’t help but admire Memphis in those damn striped Speedos. I’ve made him wear them the last four days while lounging out in the sun or when we’ve been on the beach. It leaves nothing to the imagination. It doesn’t bother me in the least when other women stare at him in them. It’s fun to watch their necks crane when he saunters to the bar to get us drinks. In my head, I fist pump the air knowing it’s me that rides that machine every day and into the night.

“Relax, I didn’t tell them we were going to hang out on the beach today. I’m pretty sure they’re out on the island trying to score some pot anyway since it’s accepted here.” I use my hands to air quote the accepted part.

Memphis pulls me into his side, scrunching up the towel and letting the sand tumble in, seeping between our bodies.

“Thank fuck. Those two are cockblock O’clock city. They need to get back to their twins and give us some alone time.”

Memphis has been a good sport about Josi and Brenna. He’s the one who encouraged me to sit down and have a talk with them. It was well-needed and past due. It happened the morning after Memphis made love to me. The memory of it and every time since always sends goose bumps racing over my skin.

I let Brenna and Josi know everything from how much I love them to the times I feel like a third wheel and the butt of every joke. The conversation wasn’t one-sided. They told me how they feel shut out of my life. All in all, it was a typical girl talk, tears, some laughter, and then we went out for drinks. It started off like every drunken, horrible hangover morning. Once at the bar, one of us started chanting shots. A handful of Tequila shots later, we were feeling zero pain.

We ended up at the casino with Memphis. He was teaching me how to play twenty-one. I gave up not too long after since seeing double and gambling don’t go hand in hand. The girls lasted a lot longer than I thought they would with their attention spans. The Latino Twins swooped in, stealing them away. I’m not sure what’s going on with them now because the last two days they’ve been glued to mine and Memphis’s hip.

He’s been a good sport, but he’s at his breaking point. And if I’m honest, I am, too.

“Are you going to ride today?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean write. Are you going to write today?”

I roll over so that I’m on top of him, straddling his hips. I told Memphis all about my aspirations of becoming an author and that for now, it’s an outlet. He shocked me when he asked about the different stories, giving me his full attention. There’s one consistent argument that always pops open. Me publishing one of my stories. Memphis insists on it.

I’m in awe of how easy everything is between us. Hell, he knows more of my secrets from the time we’ve spent together than my two best friends. He knows about all the details of my current main character and the similarities that parallel our current situation. He encourages me to get a couple of hours of writing in every single day. He never leaves my side while I work. He’s found a way to entertain himself or simply relax. This story is flowing faster than anything else I’ve worked on. It’s almost magic as the ink flows onto the thin paper. The story is so bold it’s telling itself all on its own.

I reach down with lightning speed and grab his nipple before he knows what I’m doing and twist it. I’ve learned it’s his sensitive spot and makes him squeal every single time. Something about weightlifting and sensitive nipples, I don’t remember the exact details, but I love making him squirm and squeal.

He has me flipped on my back, hovering over me before I can do anything. This position always drives me crazy because it’s my favorite. Since the night we made love, we’ve done it every day since with crazy fuck sessions sprinkled in.

His room has become abandoned since our first official date.

“Are you looking to get spanked out in public, Sunshine?”

The use of my nickname reminds me of the necklace he gave me. Every single time my fingers go to the delicate pendant, my fingers run over the surface memorizing each bump and imperfection.

Memphis begins his assault on my sensitive part. My ribs. He’s perfected the art of getting the best tickle out of me.

“Don’t make me put you across my lap and play the banjo.”

His fingers dance up and down my sides.

“Stop. Stop. Stop.” I manage to get out the three words between my fits of giggles. “Seriously, stop, Memphis, or you are going to make me piss.”

This fuels him more. He sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin on my neck. He goes to town sucking harder than a Hoover all the while tickling the shit out of me. His mouth makes a popping sound when he releases my neck. My hand flies up to the spot, knowing he’s gifted me with another hickey. I’ve tried convincing him to leave them in places I can cover-up.

“You won’t piss on me. You’ll piss on the blanket, so I’m good.”

I push on his shoulders with all my strength, which is minuscule, compared to Memphis’s. He falls over to the side. I damn well know it wasn’t my strength that made him fall. He always knows when to give in a little, letting me have the upper hand.

“You and your way with words, Memphis. It’s a good thing you’re one hell of a sexy guy because your pick-up lines need some serious help.”

I sit up, crossing my legs and placing my notebook in my lap ready to write. I feel bad when I spend time with my nose in my notebook. Memphis claims it’s one of his favorite things to do.

“My pick-up lines worked on you. That means they are some of the best.”

I shake my head, tapping his abs with my pen.

“They’re horrible, Memphis. You should file them away forever and forget about them.”

He wrinkles his nose at me and sticks out his bottom lip. “Hey, I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?”

I throw my hands up in the air. “See? You proved my point; that shit is terrible. It does make you adorable in my eyes, but I shouldn’t have admitted that because it fuels your fire.”

“You must be from Tennessee because you’re the only ten I see.”

I’ve started it now. He won’t stop until he has me rolling in laughter. I have no idea how the man retains all these dumb pick-up lines. He told me that he and Rhett perfected them back in their middle school years. God, I can imagine the little charmers they were.

“The only STD I have is a sexually transmitted desire for you. Hey, baby, want to sit on my lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up?” He pauses, cupping his junk for a beat. “Was your mama a beaver? Because damn, girl.”

I swat him with my notebook several times like I’m trying to kill a hornet. He relents, stopping with the stupid ass pick-up lines. I give him hell about them, but honestly, they make me laugh my ass off.

Memphis busies himself peeling an orange and then relaxing back on the blanket. I pick up my pen and begin writing. The words flow on the paper with ease as the story unfolds. Chapter by chapter the story almost flows out. It’s a scary feeling and I can’t explain why. I don’t want it to end, but in the same sense, I want to give these characters the happily ever after they deserve. That thought makes me nibble on my bottom lip. It's been on the fore part of my brain, but not with the characters but with Memphis and me.

My hand begins cramping after a chapter and a half of writing and I put down my pen and shake out my aching hand, stretching out each finger. I find Memphis staring at me. At first, it was creepy when I would find him staring, but now it’s my security blanket.

I know when he’s close by his gaze that is always on me, and that makes me feel sexy, special, and wanted. It's a deathly combination for a fling on a cruise. The original theme behind this cruise was a sexcation of a lifetime. I would’ve put up my entire savings account and paperback collection I would not be participating in the sexcation. Thank God, I didn’t.

“Hey, Sunshine. I have a question for you.”

I place my notebook in my bag and lay back on him, resting my head on his abs, making a T on our sandy beach towel.

“What’s that, big guy?”

“Remember that night when you saw the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and you accidentally fell in his lap?”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. He loves bringing this topic up every chance he gets. The story keeps growing and growing like a fishing story. Pretty soon the story will morph into me stripping him down naked in the middle of a restaurant.

“Yes, how could I forget?”

He wrestles around a bit, making himself comfortable before he gets to the next question. “I can’t remember if it was Brenna or Josi that was going on about you being clumsy, but they brought up a bike story. I think it’s time I hear this bike story.”

I groan. I forgot they brought that up. It’s the most embarrassing story of my life. I can’t believe I ever told my dumbass friends about it. That’s right, it’s wine’s fault.

“Oh, it was nothing really. Just something silly.”

He grunts and I turn my head to look up as he pops a slice of orange in his mouth.

“I guess I’ll have to ask the girls if you’re not going to tell me.”

I pound my fist into the towel on each side. If the girls tell him, it’ll get elaborated.

I roll over onto my stomach, propping my elbows in the sand and resting my chin underneath my hand, so I’m face-to-face with Memphis.

“I’ll tell you the story, but it is never to be repeated and never to be brought up in conversation to ridicule me about. I typically have people sign a contract bound by law before telling the story. But I’m going to trust you. Do you think you can handle never bringing this topic up again?”

Memphis pretends to mull it over, weighing out his options. I could tell him anything, and it would stay between us. He’s already proven that point with my passion for writing.

“I got your back, Sunshine. Now give me the deets of this horrific bike accident.”

My vagina hurts thinking about retelling the story. It’s crazy how an accident from when you were young can bring back memory pains, but it does. I take a deep breath and go for it.

“When I was younger, I was very close with my Grandma. She lived a couple of blocks away from us. She picked me up every Saturday at the crack of dawn, and we’d go to every yard sale in town and neighboring towns. One Saturday, she bought me the coolest pair of shorts. I don’t remember the name brand, but it was the highlight of my life. Fast forward later that afternoon. Grandma washed the new beauties up, and I was sporting them around the neighborhood.

“My friend had the coolest bike where I could sit on the handlebars while she’d pedal it. I was badass. God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” I cover my face for a few beats.

“I’m not going to lie. I’m a bit nervous here for you, Raylan.”

I carry on. “We were hauling ass down a street. My friend was crazy, going through intersections without stopping. I was nervous and thought I heard a car, so I yelled back car.

“She slammed on the brakes, and my clumsy ass somehow slipped my foot off the peg, then I let go of the handlebars. The bike came to a stop via my crotch and my brand new, used pair of shorts. I cried for hours because the crotch of the shorts was blown out with black skid marks on them from the bike. It’s the day that sent my clumsy curse into action.”

I snap my mouth shut once the story is out. Memphis does his best job to conceal his laughter. It lasts for a few seconds before he’s in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. It happens every time I tell it, and that’s why I don’t tell it very often.

Looking back I laugh about it, but that day it happened I was traumatized about my new shorts being ruined. I roll over next to him and slap Memphis on the chest.

“You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”

He rolls us over, so we’re facing each other side-by-side. “I don’t remember what I promised before you told me that story, Raylan. That's the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not nice to make fun of a little girl’s bike accident. I was traumatized for days over those stupid shorts.”

“Did it hurt? You know, like in other places?”

It’s funny how he grows all shy asking about my eight-year-old vagina.

“Yes, it hurt for days. But it didn’t matter because all I cared about was the stupid shorts.”

His hand snakes down between us and before I know it he’s cupping my center.

“I think she deserves a good massage tonight for all the trauma she’s been through in the past.”

“That’s a fair trade for you laughing at me.”

“I’ll rub you all night and seduce you with my pick-up lines.”

“You can leave out the pick-up lines but massage away, big boy. Now it’s your turn to tell me something.”

He taps his chin, thinking long and hard. Even though it’s been a handful of days, we’ve learned a lot about each other over the course of it.

“My ideal marriage consists of Naked Saturdays.”

I stop him, pressing my palm into his chest. “Your ideal marriage and Naked Saturdays? What in the hell are Naked Saturdays or do I want to know?”

“Hell, yes. Naked Saturdays are the best idea ever and should be considered a national holiday. I’m thinking about getting the idea patented. Naked Saturdays are that damn amazing.”

“Spill already, Love.”

“All of these married couples bitch how they’ve lost their spark after a few years and begin growing apart. The solution is Naked Saturdays. It’s simple. Every Saturday is spent naked in the bed and around the house. Bam! Spark back. Marriage saved.”

“What would they do with their children on these Naked Saturdays because I’m pretty confident it would traumatize the hell out of them.”

He snaps his fingers together. “Pack them a sandwich and send them outside and in the winter build them a little box, so they stay warm and send them with two sandwiches. Brilliant, right?”

I wait for a few beats, knowing he has to be joking, but it doesn’t come. Even though I know he’s being a smartass about the kids in a box I have to give him hell.

I look him dead in the eye. “How many times were you dropped on your head as a baby?”

“Don’t knock it until you try it, babe.”

I roll my eyes at his ridiculousness. We pack up our area and head back to the ship.

“Babe.” Memphis tugs on my hand. “Let’s hit this shop real quick.”

I follow him, lost in my head. I let him pull me into the shop. Once I focus on where we are going, I realize Memphis is on a mission, knowing exactly what he’s going for. I’ve quit questioning the shit he buys. At first, I tried to find rhyme or reason, but it was worthless. He’s picked up little trinkets, a one-hitter to smoke pot, woodcarvings, random jewelry no one in their right mind would wear, and the one that tops the list? A souvenir for his goldfish. He bought a gem that was damn expensive for the tank. His friends are babysitting the damn fish for him.

I admire a case of crystal figurines while Memphis gets whatever he’s after. The sun from the day relaxed on the beach is catching up to me fast. My body is in desperate need of a shower, rinsing away the sand that somehow manages to get everywhere. It also doesn’t hurt that I have the best helper in the world. We’ve shared showers every single day. Memphis insists on washing every single part of me. He never misses a spot.

“Sunshine.”

I turn to see my hot as sin ginger striding toward me, showing off his dimples. When he’s close enough, he opens the palm of his hand. It takes me a beat to figure out what he has and when I don’t answer he does it for me.

“They’re bracelets. The woman back there has handcrafted them for years. She blesses the strings and uses certain fibers and colors for who they’re made for.” He grabs my wrist and slides on the dainty bracelet.

It’s simple braided with fibers and strings. The colors range from blues, yellows, and oranges. They stand out from one another and blend, creating a perfect hue.

I look up to Memphis who’s deep in conversation securing the bracelet. I notice he’s wearing a matching one. Once Memphis is satisfied it’s on, he glances back up to me.

“I said a prayer while she was putting mine on to bless this one. I repeated the same prayer while putting yours on. When they come off, the gift of the blessing is no longer. The only way to take it off is to cut it.”

I remain silent, not having a clue what to say. Raw emotions are closing up my throat while tears fill my eyes, making everything blurry. Memphis made me cry one other time in the midst of a breathless and beautiful moment where we were lost in each other. It’s a time and place I’ll never forget like this one.

He keeps his fingers wrapped around my wrist covering the bracelet, saying everything we both want to, but are too afraid to verbalize. We’ve touched on it here and there, both knowing the outcome. Off the cruise ship, we live in separate worlds both on different paths in life. He fought to get where he’s at whether you agree with his actions or not. Memphis deserves to travel the world, and I’d never stop him from that. The same way he wouldn’t pull me from everything I’ve built from the ground up for myself.

It’s a solid respect for each other and the greatest love two people can exchange. The bottom of my world falls out every time I’m reminded of it. We chose this. Given the opportunity to go back in time to change my mind…I’d pick him again. The heartache of loving this man is etched upon my heart, soul, and skin forever.

Still barely able to breathe, I whisper words from my heart.

“I love you, Memphis.”

His tears don’t spill over like mine. They remain pooled, but are there. He grabs my other hand and rests his forehead on mine.

“I’ve never been in love with someone until you, Raylan. It’s everything.” We share a chaste kiss in the middle of the shop. “I love you, Sunshine.”

I grab his hand this time and lead him out of the shop into the sunshine.

“Hey, that’s three presents now from you. And I haven’t bought you shit.”

“Your pussy will do.”

You’d think I’d be used to his crude remarks, but I’m far from it. They cause me to flush with embarrassment every time. It’s worse when we’re out in public, making me feel like all stares are on me.

I don’t have a chance to scold him when my sandal breaks. Should’ve worn my Sanuks flies through my head while mid-air into a face-plant on the gravel path.

“Bab-”

I hear Memphis’s voice then feel my hand in his jerk back. Somehow, he rights me up into a standing position. I imagine it looks like a father saving their toddler from falling, performing a swooping, pulling maneuver by their hand.

“Holy shit.” I bend over at the waist, trying to steady my racing heart. It’s the worst when you see it coming, but can’t do anything to stop it.

“My clumsy girl.” Memphis rubs circles on my back.

“Hey now.” I stand up, pointing at him and then my sandal all the while filling my lungs with oxygen. “That was one hundred percent my sandal. I’m innocent this time.”

His crooked grin says otherwise, but he doesn’t verbally express it. He turns his back to me and squats down.

“Jump on.”

“Like hell, I will. I’ll fold you like a taco.”

“Jesus, woman, the ship is a hundred yards away. I could easily pack you a few miles. You blew out your sandal. Get on.”

“It's not my fault when I blow out your back, big guy.” I place my hands on the top of his shoulders. I damn well know he can handle my weight. It’s the fact I’m more worried about my ability to successfully get on his back and stay put.

“Don’t be chicken, Raylan.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. It's not the smartest move on my part and leap. My front smacks his back, Memphis grunts then rises to a standing position.

“I did it,” I squealed. “Now just to hold on.”

He cranes his neck, looking back at me. “You’ve never had a problem holding on before.”

“You would make this sexual.” I kiss and lick his neck.

“Kinda hard not to, babe. Your pussy and tits are pressed into my back.” He squeezes my calf. “Quit doing that. You’re making me hard.”

“Point the way, stallion.” I bite down on his neck.

“Raylan,” he warns.

“Fine, I’ll stop.” I rub my nose up and down his neck instead. “Hey, if I kick you, will you trot and run like a horse?”

“If you kick your foot right now, you’ll break off the dick you made hard.”

“Abort mission! We can't have that going down.”

We both erupt into laughter, gaining the attention of others heading toward the ship. We pass Iris and her new toys, which include Roberto and one of his friends. The best part of the cluster fuck is Memphis and I are so wrapped up and lost in each other that we don’t pay them an ounce of attention. I have no idea what made Iris stay away, but the woman hasn’t glanced toward us.