Read Online Caribbean Crossroads by Connie E Sokol - Free Book Online

her out? It wasn’t like she was encouraging him. Because she didn’t want to encourage him.
    Right?
    Megan had spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to look for him, when she realized she was doing it again. Falling into the same trap, leaping before she looked, just because someone seemed so nice. No, the safe thing to do was to stay distant, disconnected, not opening any emotional door in the slightest. 
    Then yesterday evening while the rest of the cast enjoyed a pool party, she’d opted to jog on the indoor treadmills. Engrossed in her book, she hadn’t even noticed who was running on the machine next to her until she smelled an ocean and sand scent and looked up. There he was, smiling that smile—confident, almost arrogant. Like he knew her, knew her feelings, her struggle to act one way but that she felt another. For just a moment looking at him and his sharp blue eyes, she had felt raw, exposed. How did he do that? Afraid he had seen too much, she punched the stop button, grabbed her book and towel, and walked away.
    Megan had run Emergency Exit stairs to work off the frustration. How did he know her like that when she tried so hard to stay detached? Why wouldn’t he let her be—let her curl up and be alone? Yet at the same time something inside her yearned for him, his solidness, his openness. Then just as real came the fear, the out of control feeling that she would lose herself again. Her heart had already begun the Yo-Yo cycle of interested/not interested.
    Without warning, Jackson’s smiling face flashed through her mind. She’d felt the same way at the start, that compulsive pull toward him. And it had begun innocently enough, too. He’d pursued her but not in a pushy way. All along he’d made it easy and before she knew what was happening they were a couple, and her mom was hinting wedding bells at the Tuesday ladies’ lunch.
    Megan frowned. Jackson had made her believe it was love. But it had been like getting the measles when you were older, and it had hit her hard. The game had been so natural to him, one that he played well, and enjoyed. She, on the other hand, had to fight for every bit of understanding her emotions, avoiding them since her parents’ divorce. And now she was paying the price.
    But this time, she was smarter, right? She did have more control. And she would not be pulled in to another possible Jackson. 
    This morning, she had decided to change it up altogether, to be her bold self and swim. But early. Opening night was tonight and she was anxious to be well-rested for it. And she would avoid Bryant, especially in swimwear.
    Jillian had said, “You’re on a cruise ship. He’s going to see you in a swimsuit. Though honestly, I have no idea why you care, as you’d look gorgeous in a paper bag.”
    Megan couldn’t explain the truth—the swimsuit rating scale, the way Jackson had looked at her sometimes when she wore one.
    She fought down a burst of humiliation. Men.
    Well, she wasn’t going to give up being herself and the swimming she loved, but she would do it on her own terms. Alone. Quickly resurveying the empty echo-sounding pool room, Megan took off her cover up just as the door banged open.
    “Top o’ the mornin’,” Bryant said, walking straight to where she stood.
    Not possible!
    Furious, Megan stared in open anger at his face, trying to ignore his taught bare chest as he put down his key and took off the towel from around his neck.
    He looked up at her. Megan flushed involuntarily, feeling practically naked. With his arrogant smile he said, “About that swimsuit—”
    That’s it. Megan felt something lash out from inside. She didn’t care what she said, that knowing smirk was going to get wiped off his face.
    “All right, surfer boy, let’s get this straight, right off. I’m not Talia, okay, or Mahalia, or Brittany, or even Betty Boop. This is what a real woman’s body looks like, it’s got some curves to it, and it’s not drug-addict thin.