“This is so exciting,” Molly said. “Oh, here comes the cutie.” She pointed.
The dark-haired man approached her table with a stack of towels, weaving between the crowded plastic tables and gawking patrons. She wanted to crawl under the table and dig a pit she could disappear into, hiding the melting slush and blossoming black eyes of her embarrassing situation.
“He’s the cat’s pajamas,” Molly said, waggling her eyebrows. “Just how I like ’em.”
Sabrina wanted to agree, but her mind threw up every defense. He was going to talk to her, and she would only be able to stare back at him. She started cataloging facts to distract herself. He had thick, wavy hair flopping in different directions, longer on top and shorter on the sides, and a few days’ scruff defining his jaw and framing his full lips. Small red patches flanked the bridge of his nose where glasses must usually perch. Later, when she replayed this moment over in excruciating detail, she’d realize he was exactly her type, but for now she ignored it and moved on. He stopped in front of her.
“They take their seating seriously here,” he said with a smile.
Sabrina blinked. He’d made a joke about the asinine situation. She wanted to respond with something clever, or at least something not idiotic. Instead, her mouth went dry and she focused on the pulsating pain increasing across her head—anything to distract from her racing heart.
When she didn’t speak, he continued. “I thought you might need these.” His voice was low and smooth, yet with a touch of roughness, like he had been out too late at a concert the night before or spent the day in the chemical-laden air of WWW. Blue eyes took in her sloppy appearance and stopped on her nose—ground zero of her misery. She pulled her eyes from the wet concrete floor to look over his right ear, close enough that he might think she was making eye contact.
“Thank you.” There, that was a perfectly normal response. Sabrina grabbed the top towel and wrapped it around her shoulders to stop more slush from sliding down her swimsuit. Molly stood behind him, signaling that Sabrina should smile by pointing at her own dimpled grin. Sure, smiling like a fool was exactly what this moment needed.
Sabrina ignored her and grabbed another towel to wipe off her face. Not being able to see him gave her time to take a calming breath— in through the nose, out through the mouth.
“Are you okay? I saw that giant margarita hit your face,” he said. “I can’t believe the distance that flew. I think we have a new Olympic event.”
More jokes she’d ignore. Witty banter rarely worked for her; instead it came out as awkward. Even through the terry cloth, his attention burned on her face, adding to the stuffy heat in the waterpark.
“Not great.” Sabrina patted the towel carefully around her nose. It hurt to touch the skin. She hoped to hide any bruising, which would be difficult to explain at work, in addition to her Kool-Aid-stained skin. It would take forever to scrub off. There was only one way to handle this. She gulped in some air so she could keep talking. Thinking about it only made it worse. She blurted the first comeback that came to her. “Red’s my color.”
He laughed at her joke.
He laughed. At her joke.
But was he laughing at her because what she said was funny? Or because she looked funny? Or because she was being so bumbling it was funny? Either way, it was a good laugh that came from his belly, where all real laughs were born. It wasn’t a cruel laugh. Those she could recognize.
Molly gave Sabrina two thumbs up. Sabrina struggled to stop a scowl from forming in response. It had been too long since she’d had to ignore a ghost while talking to a non–family member.
“I’m Ray.” His lips curved up at the corners, and their fullness didn’t flatten when he smiled. She didn’t want to be thinking about his lips. She wanted him to go away. She bowed her head, and he kept talking. “Do you want to shower off?”
Shit. He wasn’t going away. Sabrina tried to relax the muscles in her body, the ones that wanted her to remain stiff and alert to all potential danger. Peak flight mode.
“I’m going to grab the kids and head out.” She pointed in the direction of the giant bucket as it dropped the water and a wave of air blew a loose strand of hair into the sticky residue on her nose. She wanted to say something clever, maybe hear him laugh again, but the words melted on her tongue. Her conflicted body and brain exhausted her.
“You have kids?” Ray said, searching the play area. Good, he wasn’t looking at her anymore.
“No.” Sabrina said. Molly crossed her forearms to form an X behind Ray’s back, making it clear she didn’t want Ray thinking Sabrina had kids. Molly liked to worry about things that didn’t matter. She gave Molly a quick frown while Ray still looked toward the splash zone. “My brothers’ kids,” Sabrina continued. “I’m the cool aunt.”
There, that was better. She could have normal interactions, even when covered in margarita.
“I bet you are.” Ray reached out to pull the hair off her nose. Sabrina winced as even that small touch hurt. “That’s not going to look great tomorrow. You should really get ice on it. I’ll get some.”
Before she could call him off, he headed toward the bar. Sabrina turned to Molly.
“You need to knock it off. I’m trying to have a conversation, and you’re being very distracting.”
“I’m helping.”
“You think you’re helping, but you’re not. He may not be able to see you, but he can see my reactions. Just shush.”
If Sabrina hurried, she could be gone before he returned, ending this awkward encounter. Ray seemed like a nice enough guy, but why bother getting to know someone well enough to get over the Awkwards when she’d be gone in a few months?
2
When Ray returned to the disheveled woman, her lips moved as if she spoke to herself silently. Even stained red, there was something charmingly honest about her. If anything, she didn’t know or care about who his family was. With her short responses and lack of eye contact, she probably wanted him to go away. If the situation were reversed, he’d wish for the same, but he wasn’t about to leave her without helping as much as he could, even if it meant carrying a towel full of rapidly melting ice through an obstacle course of vacationer detritus. After seeing her rescue towels from a puddle before the food fight, he knew she would have done the same for him.
“Here you are.” He held the ice out to her like a peace offering.
“Thank you, Ray.” The words came out muffled because of her swelling nose. She grabbed the ice from the top, avoiding his hands. “I’m Sabrina. You said your name. That’s mine.”
Her brows scrunched together like she was suddenly unhappy.