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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ☆
Puerto Rico reminds me of my mom. It's the trees, I'm pretty sure. The screamed mom. My mother always made it clear green was her color. It's all she wears when she's out of uniform. If she's going to a party, green. If she's going to the store, a green top and black pants, if she's getting her nails done, green. At some point, I avoided the color because I had enough at home. Yet the vibrant presence of the huge trees only made me more excited.
When we arrived we were greeted by Greta. A 5'3 Puerto Rican woman -with skin so white you could've mistaken her for a white woman. She held up a sign reading, "Cory & Sage (US > PUERTO RICO)" It took a little while for us to find her because of how short she is but we managed. She guided us to the taxi and drove us to the resort. It was a short bumpy ride but so many sights to see. Every other second another to-do thing was added to my mental checklist of things to do.
The resort was everything I imagined. Tall, expensive, and surrounded by palm trees and water. The sand was whiter than I've ever seen which caught me off guard but the main attraction so far was our room. The balcony highlighting the city was by far my favorite feature but Sage was stuck on the size of the bed. I'm pretty sure I even watched her make invisible snowmen in the blankets. I didn't say anything and just admired how happy she looked. If a bed made her happy who was I to stop it?
"What do you wanna do tonight?" I peek my head in from the balcony I was so obsessed with.
"There's so much here to do!" A squeal comes out at the end of my sentence. "We could..." I trail off as I flip through my mental notes of things I'd like to do while here. Honestly, anything she wanted to do was something I wanted to do.
"Ooh! We can try some street food and walk it off at the beach, take some cute pics?" She smiled lightly, and I noticed her smiley piercing I hadn't realized was missing. Classic silver. My eyes rest on her mouth for a second before looking away and pushing away any naughty thoughts.
"I like that idea, we can be like those couples in the movies." I don't miss her small scoff at the end of her sentence like what she said was a joke. The tone in her voice sticks in the back of my mind like every other unusual thing that's been happening with her lately.
"Which ones?..." I move to the bed she occupies and I stand right in front of her. She's lying on her back with her chest covered in a tiny string bra that could come undone if a 2-year-old pulled it.
"The ones that splash water on each other?..." I climb on the bed and place my thighs on each side of her. Instantly smelling her perfume that radiates flowers and honey.
"Or the ones that get naked and run in?" Her breath quickens. I can tell by the rise in her chest and the nervousness plastered all over her face. I'm not sure why, but seeing her so weak under my touch is something I love.
