Page 9 of Love Off Course

Sheridan

“ A lone for five minutes and girlfriend is already trying to have his babies.”

“I am the worst friend!”

“She looks pretty okay if you ask me.”

“Do you think she likes to share? I’d like to be in the middle of that sandwich.”

“I knew they had chemistry.”

I groan, hating the way my head aches. The voices feel too loud. Too close. Too everything. I’m attempting to roll over but am trapped. Awareness settles around me as I realize someone hard and naked is pressed against me.

Oh God.

Last night was blurry.

Drinks. Dancing. The fight in the filthy office at the restaurant.

Camilo carrying me. Camilo dressing me. Camilo holding me.

And Camilo fucking me.

Heat floods my body. That didn’t happen, though.

I hate that I wish it did. What about David?

I stiffen at that thought. This week was supposed to be about him.

I was supposed to go to Daddy’s wedding and spend uninterrupted time with David.

Make him see how right we are together and commit to something.

It’s not like he doesn’t find me attractive.

He slept with me, after all. Kisses me on occasion.

Takes me to dinner often. We’re meant to be.

Sleeping half-naked with a mouthy, hot pilot is a bad idea.

What would David think?

He’d be disappointed. Just like Daddy.

Shame washes over me and I wallow in self-loathing until I hear the voices again.

“She’s red. Oh, Lord, is he doing her right now? Someone grab the blanket so I can watch!”

I snap my eyes open and glower at the source of the voice. Damian. It’s light in the room, though I can hear the rain still pattering, and he’s dressed like he’s the rainbow meant to chase away the storm. Too many colors. Too bright.

“Why are you here?” I snap, pinning him with a hard glare.

He winces at my tone, but I don’t feel guilty this time. They’re all standing around the bed, watching us like we’re some sort of freakshow exhibit. Carson, Estefania, Kyle, Lawton, and Damian.

“This is all my fault,” Estefania whines. “I should have come to check on you, but Carson said you would be okay with the handsome pilot.”

“I did say that,” Carson agrees. “It wasn’t a lie. They look pretty okay to me.”

Wait. Where did she go last night? I shoot laser beams at Carson and he laughs, shaking his head and pointing at Kyle.

Kyle’s eyes widen in fear. Luckily for him, Damian steps in front of him, blinding me with his red sequin tank top and short purple bike shorts.

More junk on display today. I can’t deal with this without coffee.

“Can someone hand me my shorts?” a sexy, sleepy voice murmurs beside me. “I seem to have lost them somewhere.”

“Pure chemistry. I knew it.” Carson’s smug grin is going to get slapped right off him. I’d do it now except they’d all see me in this horrible outfit I stole from my roomie.

I roll onto my back, drawing the covers to my chin, and turn to look at Camilo. His arm is bent and he’s resting on his hand, a sexy smirk on his face. Just knowing he’s naked under here with me makes my body tingle and burn.

“Get out of my bed,” I hiss, irrationally angry at Camilo, even though we didn’t technically do anything. “Now!”

He shrugs and then slides out of the bed, his hands covering his crotch. I get a perfect view of his sculpted, tanned ass. Too many muscles. Too hot. Ugh.

“Holy heaven in a handbasket,” Damian whines. “That ass is what people commit crimes over. Marry me, sexy Mexi. Please.”

Camilo chuckles, deep and throaty, as he takes his offered trunks from Carson. He keeps his back turned to us as he pulls them back on, somehow managing not to flash us his dick in the process. Not that I’m looking. Totally not looking.

“Who’s ready for breakfast?” Camilo asks, his almost black eyes searing into me. “I could eat.”

“Out!” I yell. “Now! All of you!” Estefania looks like she might cry, so I spare her. “Not you. You can stay. If you have a dick, leave!”

“If I tuck mine, can I stay?” Damian asks, batting his rainbow-colored eyelashes at me. “Please, bestie?”

“I am not your bestie,” I snarl.

“I am her bestie,” Estefania corrects. “Go. Shoo. Handsome pilots and lovely boys must leave. Goodbye, my friends.” She playfully shoves them out of the room. As soon as the door closes, she turns to me, grinning. “You borrowed my gown?”

“I, uh, it was a mistake.”

“You can borrow anything you like. We are practically sisters.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes because I, for some crazy reason, care about her feelings. “Yeah, whatever. I shouldn’t have worn that…with him.”

“Was he a good lover?”

I take note that she’s wearing the same outfit from last night, her lipstick is gone, and she has a hickey on her neck.

“Wait a minute. Who did you make out with?”

She bites on her bottom lip and squeals before jumping onto the bed beside me. It bounces and I want to puke. “Kyle is an amazing kisser.”

Of all the people she could have kissed, I never would have guessed the quiet, nerdy assistant to the Damian Birch.

“You kissed him? And then…”

“Fell asleep in his arms while listening to the rain.” She sighs. “So romantic.”

My night wasn’t much different, minus the kissing. It was hardly romantic. It was regretful. This place really fucks with my mojo. It’s like the universe is out of balance while I’m here or I’m in some alternate reality. I don’t feel like me here.

“Sherrie-dan?”

I roll on my side to look at her. In the morning light, she seems softer and younger. I don’t know much about her and I feel bad for that. I’m envious of the light easiness in her smile and the unguarded look in her eyes. Was I ever that way? I can’t remember.

“Yeah?”

“I am sorry I did not come to check on you.”

“It’s okay,” I mutter. I never expected her to babysit me.

“It is not. We are in a foreign place and alone. You could have been hurt or frightened. I failed you as a friend.” She frowns, her face growing troubled. “If we were in Costa Rica, and I were to slip away by myself, it could have turned badly. Could have been the same for you here. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I breathe, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I promise. I’m okay. And when we finally make it to Costa Rica and anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll kick their ass.”

She hugs me abruptly, making me squeal in surprise. We both laugh. It’s then I realize I like having a friend. A lot. And in un-Sheridan fashion, I begin asking her about her. Because I care. In this alternate universe, maybe it’s okay to be Sherrie-dan sometimes.

We walk into Eddie’s, following the scent of eggs and hot sauce.

Once I got over feeling sick, now I’m just hungry.

After a nice long shower, I was able to ground myself again.

I pulled on some skinny jeans, my black Valentino Garavani leather booties, and borrowed an off-the-shoulder gray cashmere sweater upon Estefania’s insistence.

Best friends share clothes, I guess. I cringed when she rifled through my bag to borrow something of mine, but I have to admit my Kay Unger New York floral jacquard dress looks better on her than me.

“Kyle!”

Estefania waves to her make out buddy, who sits at a table wedged between Damian and Lawton, but she loops her arm with mine, showing me she’s not abandoning me again. Considering Carson and Camilo are sitting at the table too, I’m thankful to have her support.

“Come join the Funky Flyers,” Damian calls out, waving wildly with his rainbow fingernails and bright yellow bangle bracelets.

Camilo is wearing clothes, much to my relief. He’s put on jeans and a red, fitted shirt that showcases his muscular back all too well. Everyone is talking loudly, but it all blurs out as I stare at him.

Why am I so infatuated with this man?

He’s like the most incompatible person I could even dream of hooking up with. Besides, I’m spoken for. Sorta. Almost. Ugh.

“…everyone should plan to spend the night here?—”

A portion of Camilo’s words rise above the rest, sending me into a panic. I rush over to him and take the empty seat beside him.

“Why? What did the news say?” I demand, my fingers digging into his ridiculously hard bicep. He flies planes. How in the hell does he get arms like this from jiggling a joystick all day?

He turns to regard me. Up close, I can see speckles of gold in his dark brown eyes that are surrounded by thick black lashes. His lips quirk up on one side.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he purrs, his eyes sliding to my lips and then to my exposed shoulder.

“Eyes up here, buddy. Focus.” I swat at his arm, earning a chuckle. “What did they say?”

His playfulness fades when he senses my worry. I hate that I acted like a baby last night, but the truth is, the hurricane scares me.

“No new news, just that it’s imminent. By nightfall, it’ll land. Eddie’s is the safest place here at the hotel, which is why we encourage everyone to stay together.” His features harden. “Don’t fight me on this.”

I recoil as embarrassment floods through me. Am I really this difficult that he would assume I’d want to stay anywhere but the safest place? Feeling hurt, I turn in my seat and pick up a flimsy menu that’s grease stained. Tears prickle my eyes.

Breathe, Sheridan.

You’re a Reid girl.

Tough. Resilient. Brave.

A muscular arm wraps around me and I freeze. I’m invaded by Camilo’s masculine scent that somehow overpowers the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. His lips graze along the shell of my ear, making me shiver.

“I just want to keep you safe, little bee.” His fingers brush down my arm. “I’m sorry if I sounded gruff.”

I relax a little and nod, still unable to look at him for fear of crying. I’m so out of my element. I keep grasping for the real Sheridan and I can’t find her.

“After breakfast, can you help gather supplies?” He pulls away slightly. “We could use someone to boss us around. We’re lazy delinquents otherwise.”

I peek over at him. He’s smiling at me and his brown eyes are soft. I’m thankful he’s helping coast me through my weird mood.

“You do not want me to boss you around,” I warn, smirking.

“Sugar tits,” Damian chimes in, “I would pay good damn money to watch you boss beautiful buns around. As long as you both do it naked. I’m rich. I’m good for it. Name your price.”

We all laugh and it feels good.

Is this how normal people behave?

Laughs and silliness and playfulness with friends?

A yearning settles in the pit of my stomach that I try to blame on hunger or my hangover. I know better, though. I want more than what I’ve strived so hard in life for. The more has always been elusive and murky.

Today, it’s clear as day.

I want to feel connected.

Not lost and orbiting around everyone else like some lonely god in the sky. I want to be around others who make stupid jokes and poke fun at each other.

Like Momma used to always say, “When life gives you lemons, toss them back, grab some limes, and make margaritas.”

“Right,” I say, adopting my best boardroom voice that snags the attention of everyone at our table. “First order of business. Do we have limes, salt, and tequila?”

Camilo laughs, deep and sexy. “ Abejita , this is Mexico. That’s like asking if the county fair sells corndogs.”

Damian fans his face. “Don’t say corndogs in that sexy Mexi voice of yours, Mr. Pilot. I can’t be responsible for what’ll happen next.”

Kyle groans and Estefania laughs.

“Don’t do it,” Carson warns.

“I want to know,” Lawton pipes up. “Say it, CZ.”

Camilo leans in and murmurs, “Corndogs.”

And dammit if I don’t want to swoon as dramatically as Damian is right now, complete with an over-exaggerated sigh and fluttering lashes.

“You’re killing me, Mexican cowboy. Tonight I’m getting you drunk and stealing another dance.” Damian winks at him and then mouths to me, “But he’s totally yours, princess.”

The thought of having someone like Camilo as mine is not as horrible as I might have once thought.

In fact, it’s really enticing.

It almost makes me forget about the guy I’ve been relentlessly pursuing since I was a legal adult.

Camilo is worse than any hurricane, because unlike the storm that’ll blow through here, he is more daunting. He has the power to wreck me, I fear. What’s even more frightening is I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face just thinking about what that might entail.

I am so screwed.