Page 78

I don’t notice Terrell behind him, though it’s pretty freaking hard not to because of Terrell’s size and dark skin. I don’t notice anything besides Asa when he’s smiling at me and giving me that look. The one that says if I could, I’d strip you down completely and ravish you. And I’d let him because hello, look at him. He’s six feet of pure sex.
Okay, enough, right? I’ll stop.
Asa moves toward me, winking, and places his hands on my hips. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“So do you.” I brush my hand against the stubble on his cheek. I love that he has a beard at the moment. Usually during the season, he shaves it off, but I’m digging the ruggedness it gives him.
And then he groans and grips my hips a little tighter. “It’s hard to believe we’ve been living together for over a year and I still can’t get enough of you.”
I hoist myself up to wrap my legs around his waist. “I agree.” We fall back on the bed with a giggle from me. “Let’s not go out today. This place is beautiful. We could take a walk on the beach, make love….”
Terrell clears his throat, his arm hanging around Joey. “I don’t think so. Knock that off. I hate being late and we have a date with pigs that we’ve already paid for. I have bets with JoJo on who gets bit first.”
“You’re the one who’s going to get bit.” Joey squishes Terrell’s cheeks playfully. “They’re gonna think you’re a big cupcake.”
Asa lifts up, winking, his hands low on my bottom. “We got time for this later.” I take his hand and let him peel me off the bed. I pout because I’m still not very social and hate going out, but I’m trying new things. Like social events. And the Bahamas, swimming pigs, and apparently, bikinis.
WE SPEND THEday feeding Bahamian rock iguanas—who chase Terrell and taunt him until we leave—and petting stingrays. I hold a starfish, and snorkel in to see Pablo Escobar’s sunken plane wreck. We visit Stocking Island where we have fresh conch—which I hate by the way. And finally, we take a private tour to see swimming pigs. On Jet Skis which usually wouldn’t be allowed but when you’re traveling with two football players, they’re amazingly good at talking the poor unsuspecting tour guide into it.
Everywhere I look there’s blue skies, white sand beaches, and amazing turquoise water. It’s the most beautiful place in the world, but then again, I’ve never been anywhere but Washington.
With my body pressed against Asa’s back, I can’t believe less than a year ago, nothing in my life made sense, aside from this guy in front of me. My rock.
I hold onto him as tight as I can. I cling to him, much like I have in the past, only now it’s for a different reason. It’s because I fear for my life and I’m certain he is a good football player, but not so much at operating a Jet Ski.
“Slow down!” I screech, feeling as though I might bounce right off this thing and be eaten by a shark.
Asa laughs as if my screaming in his ear is funny. And then he pins the throttle. “Hold on, honey.”
Hold on? Ha. Since he thinks this is funny, I slide my hands lower down his chest, lower, and lower, until I find the spot I’m looking for and grip him. “How about I hold on here?”
His speed slows, his hand easing off the throttle, but he doesn’t stop. He draws in a quick breath and then turns his head. “You could but you probably shouldn’t.”
“Why’s that?”
It’s difficult to hear him over the wind and the slapping of the water against the Jet Ski. “Because if you do, I might see how you feel about public nudity and sand.”
I think about it for a half second. I move my hand. “No way.”
Laughter shakes through him. “Worth a shot.” He lets off the gas completely and nods in the distance. “Ever seen a swimming pig?”
I’ve never swum with pigs. Have you? I’m a nervous wreck the entire Jet Ski ride to what I learn is an uninhabited island where pigs live. They’re not native to the islands, but they sure look comfortable roaming the white sandy beaches.
Asa laughs in front of me when he kills the engine. He touches my leg and I jump. “I’m so nervous,” I tell him, barely able to control my laughter. “Do they bite?”
“No, but I do,” he mumbles, smiling wickedly at me as he nibbles on my shoulder.
I notice a smaller one swimming over to us. “Oh my God, it’s a baby piggy.”
Terrell jumps off the Jet Ski and into the sapphire-blue water. “Ah, this one loves me,” he says, petting a big black one that looks like it could be his pet.
Joey shakes her head as she pets a smaller brown and white one. He’s not as small as the piglet at my feet. I smile at him, reaching down with a shaking hand to touch the pig’s ears. “I’m going to take you with me!”
“B, we can’t even keep plants alive let alone a pig,” Joey adds, giving me the same look she gave me when I brought a stray kitten home and he ran away the next day.
It’s true though. Between Joey, Terrell, Asa, and me living under the same roof, none of us have remembered to water the plants. We even tried succulents. Can’t even keep desert plants alive. Probably because if we use too much water, Terrell lectures us on how much it costs per month to water plants.
The moment we’re off the Jet Skis, the pigs invade us. I can’t get enough of how adorable they are. We wade into knee-deep water and I’m still holding the baby one in my arms.