Going Down......Under

I guess it was the sound of movement in the room that stirred me. Then I felt a hand brush through my hair. In that moment of just-awakening-semi-conciousness I had the most terrifying thought...I don't know where I am.

My eyes slowly opened, to the sight of him standing next to my bed. Wait, this isn't my bed. And who is this guy?

"Morning. I thought you might like some coffee," he said through his amazingly bright - at least for that time of the day - perfect teeth with a heart-melting Australian accent. Are my eyes still fuzzy, or is he naked? Oh wait. Yep. I'm naked.

"Thanks," I said while attempting to at least sit up. Oh. My. God. I know where I am. I know who he is. Holy Mother of Disco. I slept with DAN!!!

As he handed me the coffee, he leaned in and kissed me, a quick little kiss. Oh please don't let me spill the coffee.

The first time I ever saw Dan was my first time on the beach here at the shore house. Dan was the lifeguard. I truly remember sitting there everyday with my friends discussing all of the ways I could possibly fake drowning. If you had seen him, you would understand why swallowing a wee bit of sea water was worth it! The boy was hot. Lifeguard hot. "I swear I am going to spend my life at the gym to look like that" hot. Australian lifeguard hot. My days were spent drooling all over the white sand. And plotting how to drown without actually drowning.

One night my housemates and I went out to a local place for some libations and gyrations (as we call it). The place was packed and the huge bar was seven-people-deep to even get a drink. It was decided that I should be the one to push my way through and get us all refills, since I was the tallest (logic in my group of friends is a whole other story). I was about 3 people away when I noticed who the bartender was. My hands started to shake. My knees felt like they were going to give way, and of course when I got to the bar, I could barely utter anything. Dan. In front of me. Leaning in to me. Smiling. Perfect teeth. "What can I get ya," spoken in a beautiful accent. Hot.

I finally ordered the drinks in whatever language and combination of words that came out of my mouth. When he brought them, I tried to put the money in his hand (because by that time I figured this may well be my only chance to ever touch him). He pushed the money back into my hand, closing it, and wrapping his hand around mine and holding it for an all too brief lifetime. He was grinning as he said, "On me". He had no idea how much I wished that was true.

The weeks flew by as I stalked him spent days on the beach, and nights at the bar. And well, you already know where this tale leads itself. After getting to know him, and finding out there was interest on his part as well (Naive Joey, remember?), we started to spend a lot of time together. And there were more nights like the one at the beginning of this story. Lots more - he said grinning. But at the end of summer he had to return to Australia. We still write. He has a great guy in his life, and so do I. But some summer days, when I am on that beach, and I look up at that lifeguard chair, I wonder where life would have led me if he had not gone back.