Goodbye to You by Aj Matthews Read Free Book Online

back to make my boobs stand out more, and sweat beads his forehead and upper lip.
    I let him look his fill. Once he finishes, he grabs the underwater camera to take with us because I forgot my waterproof camera case.
    We gear up and descend the ladder into the warm, blue-green waters.
    We glide through the water, and I marvel at the array of colorful life under the surface. Schools of yellow and blue fish dart around as we swim above the purple and yellow coral. My heart races when a sea turtle paddles by me.
    Then I spy something I can never unsee.
    One of the other couples is hanging on floats a considerable distance from the boat. The man’s swim trunks are yanked to his knees, revealing a hairy backside. His girlfriend’s arm moves back and forth. Ha. Is that what Ed meant when he mentioned what other passengers leave behind in the water? Ewww.
    I tap Shay and point. His eyes widen behind his mask, and he reverses course, diverting us from the peepshow.
    At least no one can accuse us of being voyeurs.
    We swim back to the boat, dropping the used gear into a large plastic bin. I go to grab one of the provided towels, but Shay extends his hand and leads me back to the water after grabbing two pool floats. We lie on our stomachs and paddle out in the opposite direction of the “hand job” couple.
    He points to the horizon. Nothing but sky and water. “When things get crazy, coming here is a potent reminder of how everything doesn’t center around me. That I’m a small part of an immense world.”
    “When things get crazy. I know about that.”
    I know crazy well. Crazy has been and will be a part of my life for the foreseeable future.
    “Tell me.” He turns his head, and his eyes are heavy with concern, his tone is genuine.
    “I’m . . .” The secret of my surgery is hanging right on the tip of my tongue. I fling the bitter words to the back of my mouth and swallow them.
    He pulls his float closer to mine. His fingers circle my wrist, his grip firm but reassuring. The sweet friction ties me in knots, but in more than a lustful way.
    “You can tell me anything.”
    I believe him.
    Still, I withhold the truth. I’m leaving in a few days and will never see him again. What harm could come of telling a near-stranger about my life- and body-altering surgical procedure?
    Would he be so disgusted by my imminent “self-mutilation” he wouldn’t see me as a whole woman anymore?
    I want to be whole and normal for a few more days before I get poked, squeezed, and prodded by a team of dispassionate medical professionals.
    For now, I want the poking and squeezing to be as passionate as possible.
    “My sister . . . she’s been sick, and I’ve been helping to take care of her and her kids. I love them, but being a caregiver—it’s draining.” A partial truth of what’s been weighing on my mind.
    He releases my wrist, and I run fingers along the solid length of his forearm. He flinches faintly as I trace the puckered skin near his elbow.
    “What’s this from?” It’s an innocuous question, at least it’s meant to be. Instead of answering right away, he tenses and pauses.
    Then he jumps off his float and grabs me from mine. “Shark bite!”
    I calm my flailing limbs and lock my legs around his waist before he plunges us into the water. I surface, sputtering, then frown.
    “Those things are everywhere out here.”
    I’m sure he’s lying, but he’s smiling again, so I let it go and concentrate on the sensation of his flesh against mine.
    My hands drift to his arms and shoulders, caressing the taut muscles under the hot surface of his skin. His ever-present scent—salt and coconut-scented sunblock—is enhanced by the scorching afternoon sun. I don’t need another drop of alcohol for the rest of my vacation.
    I could get drunk from inhaling him.
    His large hands cup my butt, holding me up, and strong fingers knead at my sensitive flesh as he stands on his toes in the shallows.
    My lips are a whisper away, and