How to Honeymoon Alone

“Oh my God.” I brush a wet tendril of hair back from my face. “The sky just split in two!”

“Who’s the cynic, huh?”

“Fine,” I say, grinning. “You’re a realist.”

“Thank you.”

I dig through the pocket of my thin cotton shorts for my phone. “We should keep valuables dry,” I tell him and slip it inside my sports bra. It’s the classic move I’ve done a hundred times at the gym or when I’m walking around at home, listening to a podcast, and my shorts don’t have pockets.

His eyes linger on my chest for a heartbeat before he looks away. “Good idea,” he murmurs.

I watch as he does the same, tucking his phone into the inside pocket of his backpack. His hands move slowly, solidly, looking large against his bag.

The tree’s foliage provides shelter from the rain, but only right next to the trunk, forcing us to stand close. Men don’t kiss women as favors, I think.

My heart is beating fast, and I need to do something, to be something, to avoid this clawing feeling inside. I pull my phone out and hand it to him.

“Keep this safe, too.”

He takes it with a frown. “Where are you going?”

“Into the rain,” I say and back away from the tree. It only takes a few steps for the few drops to turn into to turn into a deluge. The ground beneath my feet is dark and spongy from rainwater.

“Eden!” he calls.

I tip my head back at the sky and close my eyes. It’s rare to be able to do this, to stand in the warm rain and not be worried about ruining your makeup or your clothes, or your electronics. The rain hitting the ground and leaves around us is a steady beat. It sounds like hands on a drum.

“You’re really staying out there?”

“Yes!” I shout. “This is my next crazy thing. You said you wanted to keep me around for that, right?”

I hear him curse, and I laugh, spinning around. My hair is soaked and the T-shirt I’m wearing feels plastered to my skin. It’s magical. The air smells earthy-wet and fresh, with a hint of sea salt. It’s warm against my face and tastes like the promise of a kiss.

I feel alive.

A firm arm wraps around my waist. I blink my eyes open to see Phillip’s face. His hair looks darker in the rain.

“You’ll get cold,” he says.

“No, the rain is warm.”

“But after it’s over, you’ll be soaked.”

I nod at his own clothes. His T-shirt is sticking to his chest and molds to his shoulders. “So will you.”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

He shakes his head, his lips tilting up at the corners. His arm is still around my waist and I lean into the contact.

“I watched you by the pool,” he says. “One of the early days after we met. You were smiling at the tropical rain when everyone else was scrambling.”

Water sluices down my body but I can barely feel it. His eyes are on mine, and I can’t look away. I don’t think anything in this world could make me.

“It’s so rare,” I murmur.

He reaches up with his free hand and brushes a lock of my hair back from where it stuck to my cheek. I can feel the heat from his hand, even in the rain.

“Yes,” he says. “It is.”

He leans in and pauses for a second, just long enough for me to know that he’s savoring the moment before his lips touch mine.

His kiss is shockingly warm against the rainfall, gentle and strong at the same time. I rest my hand against his chest and melt into his touch, into the arm around me, and the lips that move with determination.

He tips my head back, long fingers curving down toward my neck. It sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the storm around us.

I’m the one who deepens the kiss.

My tongue brushes his lower lip, and he groans. It’s a rumble through his chest and into mine, and he pulls me tighter against his body.

Around us, the rain continues its frenzy. The droplets turn into a curtain of water that blocks out the real world. I wrap my hands around Phillip’s neck and press my body against his, drowning in the moment. His fingers burn trails on my skin, along my arms, across my back. Each promises more.

I feel on fire.

He lifts his head an inch. “I should be getting you out of the rain,” he murmurs. His voice sounds hoarse.

I shake my head and draw him back to me. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh?” He kisses my lips gently before tracing the edge of my jaw. “I didn’t expect this, Eden. I didn’t expect you.”

A shiver runs through me again, and it’s not because I’m cold. Pressed against him, our clothes soaked and bodies molded to one another, I’ve never felt warmer.

“Me either,” I say. “You were a complete surprise.”

He rests his forehead against mine. We’re both breathing hard. And there’s no one here watching, no one we’re performing for.

“What are we doing?” I whisper.

“I have no idea,” he says. “I don’t know what I’ve been doing this entire trip.”

“Vacation self,” I murmur.

He runs his fingers over my wet hair before coming to rest on the bare skin of my neck. “Maybe,” he says quietly. “Or maybe it’s just me, and it’s just you.”

I feel unmoored, like holding on to him is the only real thing left. “Kiss me again?”

He smiles crookedly and lowers his head. Our lips meet, and around us, the rain keeps pouring down.

When we finally get back to the resort, I have exactly forty-eight minutes to get ready before I’m meeting Kaelie. My clothes are half-dry and my hair is frizzy from the rain and humidity. I throw myself into the shower to try to put it to right.

The water is warm, just like the rain had been. But there are no lips pressed against mine this time.