Beach day is a huge success. Practically the whole team is here, which is great, because it means I’m finally meeting more of the wives, girlfriends, and families. A few guys brought their dogs, so Poseidon is having a huge time running and playing.
Tess is busy making the rounds, flirting up a storm with any single guy who looks twice at her. Which is all of them. They’re all looking twice. Langley is still wandering around like he’s been zapped by an electric fence.
“So…our Hurricane has a Tornado for a friend,” Caleb muses, handing me a sparkling water from the cooler by his chair.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t get me started.”
He just smirks, taking a sip of his own lime water. “Holy shit,” he mutters, tipping his glasses down as he peers over my shoulder.
“What?”
“Mars is here.”
I spin around, my gaze narrowing on him immediately. He’s impossible to miss. He’s wearing a pair of dark Ray-Bans and a white t-shirt with athletic shorts.
“He never comes to anything,” Caleb says, taking a sip of his drink.
“Maybe he just wants to be part of the team,” I offer. I hate feeling like I’m lying to him.
“What’s the deal there?” he says.
I turn around to face him. “What deal where?”
“With you and Mars. Did you invite him?”
I fiddle with my sunglasses. “There is no me and Mars.”
He nods, glancing back over my shoulder. “Does he know that?”
“Caleb, I—”
Just then, Tess drops down at my side, a wild grin on her face. “Girl, who is that?”
I look around. “Who?”
“Who?” she cries, incredulous. “Him, Rach. The hot as sin Ragnar Lothbrok lookalike!”
“Scuse me.” Caleb unfolds himself from his beach chair and walks off.
I sigh, rolling my eyes as Tess snags his chair. “Thanks for that,” I mutter.
“For what?” she replies, digging in the cooler for a soda.
“Never mind.”
“So, spill. Who is he?” she presses, slurping the top of her Diet Coke can.
“That’s Mars Kinnunen.”
“The goalie?” She gasps. “Oh—wait—like…the goalie? The one you…” She twirls her finger, leaving the rest silent.
As of now, Tess is the only other soul who knows about the kiss in the hallway. I don’t know why I told her, but I did. I just felt like I had to say something to someone. It meant nothing. He was mad and deflecting it all on me. That’s all.
“Girl, he’s looking at you like you’re a damn snack,” Tess murmurs.
I go stiff. “He is not.”
“I mean, he’s standing over there. But in spirit, he’s right behind you dripping an ice cube down your neck.”
“Stop,” I hiss, sitting forward in my chair. “You’re crazy, Tess.”
“Am I? Is Tess Owens known to be wrong about these things?” She leans over, elbow on the arm of her chair. “Let’s recap, shall we? Exhibit A: I told you that nurse at the clinic was way into you, and you ignored me, and then he tried to stalk you into our building. Remember how fun that was?”
“Tess—”
“Exhibit B, Your Honor,” she says over me. “I said the guy at Trader Joe’s was flirting with you, and you didn’t believe me, and then he wrote his number on your receipt. No one gives away free samples at Trader Joe’s!”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“And the guy at the bar with the tattoos and the lip ring? I said he was going to try to take you home and you said ‘no, I think he’s gay,’ and then he cornered you by the bathroom, and you made out with him in a stall. You remember that one?”
“Okay, fine,” I mutter. “I will admit that you do sometimes…on rare occasions…and usually fueled by alcohol…make educated guesses about men’s intentions where I’m concerned.”
“This is all I’m saying,” she replies, settling back into her chair. “So, what’s the deal there?”
“There is no there there,” I reply for the second time.
“Uh-huh…then why are you blushing? Do the boys know? Do they not want to share—oooohmigod, three-way sharing.” She slaps her forehead, mouth open in awe. “I don’t even—how would that work? I guess we have three holes…but I don’t see how that would—”
“Tess,” I hiss, slapping her arm. “Will you shut up about orgies? This is a family fun day at the beach. Emphasis on family.” I point to the many little faces dotting the sand in front of us.
She just laughs. “Girl, better you than me. I don’t know if I would enjoy being made into a human Twinkie, I don’t care how good the books make it seem. When I’m with a man, I want to give him allll my attention. And you better believe I want all his attention on me.”
I follow her gaze with a frown on my face. “Tess,” I say in warning. “This is not the humane society. Stop looking at that puppy right now. He is not up for adoption.”
She snorts, dragging her eye away from Langley. “Hey, if you get to juggle three hot dogs at once, I’m allowed to take an All-American cheeseburger out for one little dinner.”
“And on that note,” I say, getting up out of my chair.
“Yeah, go get him,” she teases. “Go invite him on a whirlwind getaway to charming Cincinnati!”
I roll my eyes, crossing over the sand towards where Ilmari stands watching some of the guys play volleyball. “Don’t feel like playing?” I say, standing next to him.
“Can’t,” he replies. “Don’t want to risk it.”
I nod, taking a sip of my drink. I can’t even offer him one to break the tension because he’s already holding a bottled water. “Come meet my friend Tess,” I say.
He follows next to me as we go over to the rainbow striped beach umbrella. Tess is now stretched out on a beach towel. Her eyes are closed, but she’s got a little smile on her face. I know the faker was watching me talk to him.
“Hey, Tess,” I call. “Meet Mars.”
She sits up, one hand holding onto her hat. “Well, helloooo, handsome,” she sings. “My, you’re a tall drink of water, aren’t you?”
He glances at me.
“I’m sorry for your pain and suffering,” I say by way of explanation.
“Come have a seat, Mars,” she coos.
He sits down on the beach chair Tess was just in, and I take up my seat again.
“Why don’t you take your shirt off and stay awhile,” she says, perched up on her elbows. The angle does great things for her curves.
“Can’t,” he replies.
I share a quick look with Tess, who asks the question both of us are thinking. “You can’t take off your shirt at the beach?”
“I have a tattoo. Sun is bad for it,” he explains, taking a sip of his water.
“Well, good thing you’re in the shade,” she teases, pointing up to the rainbow umbrella.
“Tess, will you leave the man alone? Mars, you don’t have to—”
Too late. He sets his water bottle aside and tugs it off one-handed, tucking it in to the top of his shorts. I’m trying really hard not to look but Tess makes no such effort. She ogles him shamelessly, her mouth tipping up appreciatively.
“I don’t get it, handsome. I don’t see a tattoo.”
“It’s on my back,” he replies.
I can see it. Well, part of it. And I was right, it’s practically a total blackout.
Tess being Tess, she crawls around the side of his chair and pushes on his shoulder, a silent request for him to lean forward. “Oh, holy fuckballs! Mars, this is gorgeous. Rach, look at this. What am I even looking at?”
I look. I can’t help myself. His entire back from the base of his neck, across his shoulders, down to his waist is blacked out in a full-back tattoo. It’s incredibly intricate, with multiple scenes playing out. It’s like some kind of creepy, death-themed fantasyscape—skulls, wolves, an open-mouthed, rabid-looking bear, a demon king, a raven in flight at the top. Those are the wingtips you can see even when his shirt is on.
“What is it?” I say.
“Stories from the Kalevala,” he replies.
“The kale-what-a?” says Tess.
“The Kalevala,” he repeats. “It’s the Finnish book of folklore. Our mythology. The making of the world, Ilmarinen and the forging of Ukko’s hammer, mighty Otso guarding his forest, the death god on his throne.”
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, fighting the urge to reach out and touch it. For some reason, it’s making me emotional. This means something to him. It matters so much, he doesn’t want sun to touch it. He doesn’t like sharing it either. It’s art not meant for consumption. It’s a piece of his soul he wears on his skin.
And I suddenly know without doubt that he didn’t show it to us because Tess teased him to take his shirt off. He’s showing it to us because he knew I wanted to see it that day on the plane.
He wants me to see it. He didn’t before. Now he does.
Fuck, I am in so much trouble.
